Okay. I take it you prefer metaliterary discussion to having the proverbial wool
pulled over your eyes. I bet you like John Barth and you prefer the Robert Coover
of Seven Exemplary Fictions to the Robert Coover of Origin of the Brunists.
You (the reader) are an educated person who approaches a fiction highly
aware of the strategies the author uses to lull you into the fictional world. But in this
late age of print, with the transparency of the sign on the wane, the only good author
is the non-fiction author, the author who disdains attempting to fool the reader and
discloses the conventions with intellectual games. Like me (the author). The willing
suspension of disbelief died about the same time God did, or if it didn't, it should have.
Right?