I recently read a Jane Austin book called Northangar Abbey. The main character has a very active imagination. Sometimes it runs away with her, and she makes up wild stories about the people she encounters.
I also have a very active imagination. Writing helps me burn some of it off. And yet I don't make up wild stories about real people. It just feels disrespectful to make up fake scenarios and imagine what they'd do. Even if you're not necessarily thinking ill of them.
The most I ever do is try to imagine a complicated conversation I need to have, so I can think of what I want to say. And of course I'll worry about what people think about me. It's probably impossible to never imagine things about people, at least to a minor extent such as this. But if I'm going to make up stories, I save them for the fictional characters.
Red ruffed lemur, warming his belly in the sun
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