I am not a fan of fiction. Quite the opposite, in fact. But I am now overcome by fleeting dreams of a novel. My first and perhaps my last. It would be about a little town in a remote costal region of an ex-Communist country. Say, Crookistan. The town’s name would be Mongrelville, and the region’s Ignotia. I imagine it as an old Venetian outpost on the Black Sea, whence caravans would depart to and return from India and China. By the way, I am not sure about any of these names yet, but they can always be changed as the novel gathers shape. And portent. As is the case with many ex-Communist countries, Crookistan is ruled by corruption and organized crime. However, Ignotia becomes most attractive to tourists from all around the world. And Mongrelville is one of the more eye-catching spots not far from the coast.

Politicians from the capital of Crookistan and those from Ignotia work closely together to exploit tourist development to the best of their ability. Real estate is the name of the game. Mongrelville’s politicians play along according to their talents, but the mayor of the town is quite good at the new game. He and his closest associates hail from powerful families that used to be the movers and shakers under Communism. After its breakdown, they invent all sorts of schemes to exploit vast tracts of land that used to belong to everyone under the old regime. Close to power since childhood, they work together to divide the spoils. Mongreelville is ruled by café owners and shopkeepers who belong to the ruling party of Ignotia, which is working closely with the ruling party of Crookistan. Slowly but surely, they squash all opposition and competition by hook or by crook.

The novel delves into the innermost desires and fears of Mongrelville’s rulers. Greed and envy motivate their every move. Every individual is laid bare. And so is every family involved. Café owners and shopkeepers are singled out for most detailed scrutiny. All the twists and turns of their fortunes are exposed in fine detail. Those closest to the mayor are the leading characters of the novel. In spite of minor problems that plague the ruling clique, everything is moving smoothly for them. They are relentlessly amassing buildings and tracts of land in Mongrelville and the surrounding villages in expectation of riches to come.

And then tourist development suddenly collapses in the middle of a global financial crisis. Crookistan is stopped dead in its tracks. The spoils of corruption and organized crime run dry. The prime minister ends up in jail. The crisis grips Ignotia, as well, and its governor is in danger of following the prime minister’s ignoble demise. By and by, Mongrelville turns into a nasty place. Sorely disappointed, the town’s café owners and shopkeepers go berserk. Feeling cheated out of their just rewards, they set out to revenge themselves. At first they revert to the legal means at their disposal, but then they look for all means available to them. Mayhem ensues. All opposition and competition is annihilated with a murderous vengeance. Everyone runs scared. Beatings and killings ravage the town. By and by, it turns into a ghost town that it used to be under Communism.

I am enthralled by the evolving narrative, entirely fictitious though it is, but I wonder about the novel’s ultimate fate. Will it land me in court once again on account of some awkward similarities between fiction and reality? Although all similarities would be there purely by chance, they could not be ruled out in advance. Who knows, there might exist just such a country, region, and town somewhere in this world, and perhaps even on the coast of the Black Sea. What is worse, fiction that bears no resemblance to reality is hardly worth the effort on both the writer’s and reader’s part. In any event, I am a bit apprehensive of my fleeting dreams of a novel. Even fiction can land you in serious trouble. Intellectual freedom I am courting at my peril may well be a thing of the past.