What if the most dangerous lies are the ones we tell ourselves?
Baker McCloud is writing what he believes might be his best book. A strange, ambitious project that has an unruly life of its own, All Writers Are Liars is part novel, part provocation, and part confession. Inside it live two men: Malcolm, who is consumed by grief that is killing his marriage and may cost him his job, and Murray Flout, who doesn’t give a shit.
As McCloud pours his thoughts onto the page, the line between creator and creation begins to blur. Malcolm is trying to work his way to redemption through a novel of his own, and his character Murray pushes the boundaries of taste and authorship. Most dangerously, Murray questions who has the right to tell which stories – he’s writing a raw, confronting tale of survival that may not be his to tell.
Meanwhile, McCloud’s process of creation and the eccentricities of his chaotic writing life are all on display, often humorously so, sometimes disturbingly. Through it all he enjoys the unwavering support and encouragement of his wife Edie, who isn’t afraid to speak her mind or deliver the odd gem of advice. But he’s disconcerted by the realisation that the truths he’s uncovering in his writing say more about him than he’d like to admit.
Sharp, funny and uncomfortably honest, All Writers Are Liars explores the uneasy space between fiction and reality, and asks a question with no easy answer: if our stories are built on invention, does that make them lies – or the only way we ever tell the truth?