I love a good unreliable narrator. I know, I’m weird that way. My classmates way back in high school made that perfectly clear.
The first time I realized that a narrator didn’t have to tell the truth – even about their own story – the world just opened up. We were reading Tim O’Brian’s The Things They Carried. It had just come out and my teacher was unusually excited about it. When we got to the first “inaccuracy” most of my classmates just assumed the author didn’t do enough research.