[NOTE: The folowing dialogue between the author and one of his personae, the one he trots out on the occasion of a public appearance, was first performed at the Universidad de Zaragoza, Zaragoza, España, on April 25, 1996. The author extends his thanks to Professor Francisco Collado Rodriguez of the University for making his appearance there possible. Indeed, all of us who went along on that occasion are grateful, since a good time was had by all.  —MD]

The Author’s Persona faces the audience. On a projection screen behind him the following appears:

The Persona takes a small tape recorder from his pocket. He presses the play button. (He may, if the spirit of the moment suggests it, fumble a bit, as if he were unfamiliar with the recorder's operation.)

Thank you for coming to listen to me—to my words, these words, of which I am the author—and to him—that is, that fellow standing in front of you, who is also me, of course, who will read my words (other words, not these, but words of which I am also the author) to you and, later, answer your questions. 

I am writing these words on a chilly morning, at home, in my workroom, sitting at my computer. I am not in a good mood. A nasty storm is expected this afternoon. When I raise my eyes I look out over a gray bay under a gray sky. My fingers are cold.

The Persona rubs his hands together, as if unconsciously, and then blows on his fingers.

Now, of course, things have changed. I am reading these words, and "now" is not the same as it was when I wrote these words. Now the storm has passed, and time has passed. This day is mild, though still blustery. (I don't really know this. I'm writing these words on the same gray day, and I'm imagining the day when I will read them, and I am asking my future self not to alter them, even if they do not match the facts when he reads them.) 

Reading these words, I am not now the person I was when I wrote these words, not quite. I'm older; perhaps I'm wiser; perhaps I'm in a better mood, and maybe my fingers are not cold now. Now I am the author and the reader, composer and performer, but what I am today is partly a result of what I wrote (what I am writing on this gray day). I made myself what I am today, this milder day.

The Persona takes a manuscript from his pocket or briefcase and begins looking through it.

Now what about that fellow standing there in front of you who is looking through my manuscript and will soon read from it? 

He and I are no more the same person than I (who wrote these words) and I (who am reading them now) are the same person--less so, in fact. He knows more than either of us does. He's lived longer. He has seen more of life. 

You--and I mean you, listener, straining to decipher the dim voice on this little recorder--can see him there in front of you, but I, at this moment, the moment when I am writing these words (and also I, at this moment, the moment when I am reading these words into my little tape recorder) can only imagine him there, standing in front of you, about to speak, asking himself whether the pages of the manuscript are in order . . . or whether they've gotten shuffled.

The thought seems to strike terror into the Persona's heart. He begins looking through the pages of the lecture manuscript. He may appear frantic.

If he is there at this moment, then I have a pretty good imagination, or at least I did when I was back at home, at my desk, in front of my computer, in another time and place, when I imagined him standing there, and when I imagined you . . .

The Persona looks at the Audience and smiles.

. . . all of you . . . out there, in front of him, listening to this tape, and now here you are, very much as I imagined you, and if you would now welcome him with a little applause, everything would be as I imagined it, and I would be very grateful.

If the Author's imagination is good enough, the Audience applauds.

Thank you. Thank you very much. It’s a pleasure to be here.

have in mind two sorts of cross reference—one concerned with words and the other with things. . . .
    Denis Diderot, Encyclopedia

A Topical Guide to the Complete Peter Leroy (so far) is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, dialogues, settings, and businesses portrayed in it are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. 

All rights reserved. No part of this guide may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. 

Portions of A Topical Guide to the Complete Peter Leroy (so far) were first published by Voyager, Inc., as part of The Complete Peter Leroy (so far).