Living to Tell the Tale: The Complicated Ethics of Creative Nonfiction

Abstract

t's 5:00 a.m. when I arrive at the university hospital. I mean to go to the emergency room, but instead find myself lurching toward the main registration desk with nausea so profound that every few yards I have to sit on the floor of the long, glistening corridor to keep from fainting again. I must have hit my head when I fainted in the dorm room. My hair is matted and sticky and beginning to stiffen where the blood is drying and I am here because I understand, in the lucid intervals between violent stomach cramps, that my head needs stitches. I finally reach the desk and croak my name to the attendant: Lynn Marie Zimmerman. Were you ever in this hospital before? she asks. This is my fifth year at Michigan, where I am now a master's student in English and an R.A. in charge of a hundred first-year women who all need help with their papers on The Waste Land. Yes, I say and cling to the counter as another wave of food poison-

Cite this work

No public copy is stored for this record, so only the metadata is cited.

Stored only when both papers are in the corpus — 29 citations exist upstream.

Papers that cite the same references — the relational fallback while embeddings are still backfilling.