The big untruth in More Ketchup than Salsa

A confession by the author

I’ve thought long and hard about revealing the one big untruth in my first memoir, More Ketchup than Salsa, but I feel I should. Memoirs are supposed to be an honest account, warts and all. But there was one part, and only one, where I wasn’t completely straight with my readers. And it’s something that I did feel a little guilty about after the book was published.

Everything else in the book happened as described, though admittedly embellished in parts for dramatic or comedic effect. This, though, was a lie.