mind the gaps

so it happened.  be careful what you wish for.  My random thoughts and scribblings were read by some who know me, and there was a bit more recognition within my words than I had expected.  I have often wondered what the fallout would be from writing a family book - where the characters are composites, where the sister-in-law is actually more like the half-sister and the cousin could be mistaken for the brother. It's a dangerous task writing a book - and all the more dangerous when the author doesn't REALLY know what presses a button, and what might be dangerous territory.  All the more dangerous for family, where the relationships are inviolate, or so they should be, but in fact, so often are not. What we discover, to our shame, embassassment, puzzlement, astonishment, is that the bit of concrete fact, the spark that fanned into a flame, is mistaken for a good part of the blaze.  Relationships are not inviolate, and bonds that are tenous can be broken all too easily.  I have reviewed all my writings, and my horror during the day, when I imagined the worst, that I had held an image in my mind and somehow ranted about someone I know and respect but might have been miffed with - that horror has dissipated.  I recall that I was interested in creating composites that exaggerate foibles and realities different than my own,  but I seem to have conveyed very different meanings, and I did not review the work through the eyes of my composites sufficiently. The first lesson of an author - no need to be even remotely explicit, the merest shadow will convey the shape of the beast.  My words did not reflect enough cognizance of the gaps that form between them, and that much vaulted prize called perspective, has a second edge that can cut rather sharply.