The problem with writing what you know is that what you know is often embarassing. If I wrote from what I know, good people might come out portrayed in ugly ways, as cheats, liars, gossips, brawlers, deluded, medicated, hypocritical, resentful, pitiable.
That's not who they are, but everyone is so happy to rush to a judgement so they can stop experiencing, stop thinking.
Someday, soon? I'll put that certain book in my head to paper, it's already written, up there in my head, until then, I'll admit my cowardice, until then I only want to entertain and mildly disturb you, I don't think either of us is ready for the other yet.