I hate the adage “write what you know.” Hate it. But I don’t hate it because it’s wrong. As an author, there are plenty of things about your life woven into your fiction, and most of the time this is done unconsciously. The car your character drives has a striking resemblance to your own. A few choice turns of phrases that you’ve been known to use pepper your manuscript. Your protagonist’s drink of choice is, coincidentally, a margarita on the rocks, two parts tequila, one part lime, touch of orange liquor and a drizzle of agave nectar. No salt, not ever. No, I hate that phrase “write what you know” because too many readers take it as an unalterable truism. By readers, of course, I mean family members. They mean well, God bless ’em, but boy do they want to know where all that darkness comes from. It has to come from somewhere, because, you know, you write what you know, and if the villain in your book fancies choking out hookers and making totem poles out of their torsos, well, we may need to revisit that time you went to summer camp when you were sixteen. My mom always…