I was sure I’d had a terrible childhood, but when I told people about it, I discovered that my perspective on it changed. Eventually I wrote stories of life with my very difficult-to-live-with father. Growing older, I kept telling my stories to friends and co-workers. Folks would laugh and then they’d suggest I write a book.

“Can’t write a book,” I’d say. “I’ve tried and I always get bored in the middle.” But those books were novels.

Then a niece directed me to a social media site called Gather.com (now defunct), meant to help writers develop their skills and help each other. I put a few of my stories out there, and got the same response… “Very funny.” “Loved your Old Man.” “You should write a book.”

“Sorry, can’t write a book. I get bored in the middle.”

But that didn’t work this time. We were there to help each other, and one person decided to “do something.” She word-counted all the stories from my Gather pages. When she finished, she e-mailed me, “Chuck, you’ve written over 100,000 words about your Old Man and you. That’s a book. Find a publisher.

It wasn’t that easy, of course, but I made 53 stories into a memoir I titled The Old Man and Me, and now there are two volumes in circulation. They’re funny, and filled with joy and disappointment and good stuff and bad (but mostly good). I’m working on volume three.

http://rclarlham.com/

 

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