What does truth feel like?

If someone writes something about some place, time, thing or circumstance, and that someone claims that what they write is true, then I'm engaged in a different way than if that someone says that what they write is fiction.

Further, if what they write is about something I haven't myself experienced, then I'm engaged in a different way than if I have experienced it myself.

In one (the truth) sense, I engage with Doris Lessing's "Briefing for a Descent into Hell" differently than with Barbara O'Brien's "Operators And Things: The Inner Life of a Schizophrenic." In another (experience) sense, I engage with them similarly.

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