Dilemma

Writing memoirs for public cosumption is tricky. Even fiction-writing, with its veils, composite characters and name-changes has its risks, because authentic writing is based in experience. Writers wrestle with this, looking for ways to disguise identities and avoid offense. Sometimes offense is unavoidable, like maybe now.

Staying safe would mean having to wait until every character written about is dead, which can prohibitively cut back on writing time - the author may also be close to death, or worse, senility, by the time the path is clear to write without offending anyone. It's a carpe diem, sieze the day sort of day when the muse descends - can't put it on hold and get back to it later.

This writer is not harboring vengeful  intentions towards her characters, real or imaginary, but only wishes to report her wacky Mancos experience as faithfully as possible. After two years of germination, I was ready to write without fear - time and distance make the heart grow braver.

Word of Field Notes from the 40th Parallel has reached Mancos. Small towns being what they are, it's a matter of time before sundry imaginary characters, in their alternate universe, will stumble or be directed here. If they could hear me in their other dimension, I would say, "No serious offense intended, but it's my truth, and I feel entitled to call it like it happened. In my imagination."

I would also wish them the best, hope they stay out of harm's way, and say Happy Holidays.

That said, onward - it's my story and I'll blog if I want to. You would blog too if it happened to you.