A friend in my old writing group declared he'd never, EVER write to an author -- particularly not one whose books he'd admired. He made it sound like reaching into a bag of snakes, and said he didn't want to talk to some stranger while assuming he knew anything about that person.

I know that to contact the writer can possibly ruin the experience you had reading something you liked, if say you discover you can't stand the person. Or possibly discover something you don't like about him, that you didn't know before.

I'm torn about this. When you read something you like a lot, it's natural to want to reach out to the person who wrote it and try to share your feelings about it. But I think I agree that writers and written material are two very different things and a lot of what happens on a printed page has nothing to do with its maker. A lot of what a written work "is" is not due to the writer.

Many years ago, I started liking spy novels and action movies, and found the "Rogue Warrior" series, which is a series of novels co-written by John Weisman and a man named Richard Marcinko. John Weisman is a professional writer hired to help create these military-adventure-action books, which were begun after the big success of Marcinko's autobiography. Marcinko was a Seal Team leader during Vietnam and is outgoing and funny.

One night, after finishing the latest book, I impulsively emailed John Weisman and asked him why he had the main character (who is named Marcinko; he "plays" himself in the books) actually torture a bad guy they captured. The guy was a terrorist but it was shocking nevertheless. I didn't like it -- I wondered if he didn't think this would push the character a little too far and lose reader appeal.

You see, I didn't think anyone in this country would suborn torture. This was of course before the Bush years, so I had no idea.

I got an immediate email in return. He told me that torture of prisoners happened among Americans... and I don't really remember what else but he sounded sort of mad that he was being questioned.

It was a disagreeable experience. I decided to back off and let the imaginary world I had enjoyed return and re-form itself around me, and try to forget the real writers. My opinion of Marcinko himself would undoubtedly destroy things too, if I ever met him. He is a real person made into a sort of harmless cartoon, actually. I thought he -- with his amazing courage, outgoing personality, humor and that long French braid of hair -- would make an excellent subject for action movies and I waited for years for these to have been made.

But he was also sort of an ugly American in those years living in Vietnam, according to his autobiography, and I would not wish to know him.

I'm not bothered by thinking about it anymore... but I prefer pure fiction, that's for sure. I remember that when I'd read all about Marcinko and his Seal Team buddies under his command, they brought to mind the characters in the pulp novels about Doc Savage and his 5 assistants. Books I still love.