they say that you should write what you know. i like to fancy myself a writer, but i never really feel like i have stories to tell... my life is fairly mundane, normal as lives go. i've crossed paths with people whose stories are much more interesting (from a writer's perspective) than mine, but i don't feel like i would have the authority to write their stories without their consent.

take, for example, my mom's friend tony. tony (who died a number of years ago already) had lived in san jose for most of his life, and had been around the table when lots of early growth was happening there. he owned an oft-visited bar in the downtown area-- heck, eggo waffles were invented in his bar's back room! he rubbed elbows with a lot of the movers and shakers, and had access to a lot of information (and people) that made the decisions for the city-- both above and under the table. tony always had stories on his tongue, but he was always very guarded about using names because of the implications. my mom always wanted to write his story, because he had so many tales to tell. he was reluctant to tell it in any detail or order. however, i know she would have held onto it until he died so that there would be no ramifications for him.

so, where does one draw the line about what stories we can make our own? when is it fair for us to test the trust and respect for the person whose story we tell in order to be the author of those stories? it's funny, i wonder these things even as i talk about my life and those in it on this little blog of mine... i'm well aware of most of my audience, and i try to maintain an air of decorum so i'm not in any way putting anyone in uncomfortable exposé. but, as so often i find in my life, human courtesy is not a consistent thing. i would hope self-indulgence would at least be questioned when the actions we take affect people we care (or once cared) about.