To be a writer of literature, on the other hand, is to not be in doubt about one’s access to the truth (maybe only in some doubt about one’s ability to convey or articulate it). There are, however, constant doubts about whether the truth is interesting, and beautiful. That’s why the author does not look for the truth. It is already hers.
The truth of philosophy is no different from the truth of literature. (There are no different truths!) But the corruptions of the truth are different in philosophy and literature. The temptations are different. In philosophy, one is keenly aware of one’s tendency to be tempted by attractive illusions of the truth, and therefore has to be suspicious about oneself. In literature, the temptation is to trade beauty for the truth.
(Of course, I’m not assuming that I already know how to identify philosophy and literature. I’m merely trying to help myself identify them truthfully.)