When my friend read the draft of this, she wept.
The nutshell is this:
I wanted to write a story that captured my story.
Recently, I was intrigued by the phenomenon of “The 6 Word Memoir” idea. I like that idea that you can share a lot about your self quickly.
It’s poetry, really. (But that word scares -some-people.)
I’ve also felt nudged to write a memoir myself. But on which part of my life? There’s a lot of drama!
And really, I don’t have the fortitude to cover the seriously painful parts of my life. It wrecks me. I see why people just hire editors for that sort of thing. But, those are the parts that offer the best memoir material.
Also, any successful memoir is written by a famous or infamous person that has a following of some sort. The other kind of written for family member to read. The only reason I want to create one, or a few (it’s not an autobiography I’m interested in, mind you) is because have so many stories that beg me to tell them. To birth them into the world. But, it’s a lot like yelling into the void or dancing alone in a hall of mirrors.
And then the idea hit me to write a short story that was a kind of universal memoir.
In the same spirit as The Little Prince and Where the Wild Things Are I started writing something and in about a day and a half it was done. It was gestating for a long while. Years. (And of course, I just mean the first draft was done.) But, in truth, the story came out in nearly one whole piece. That never really happens.
So, now, I’m in the final stages with the layout. Gorgeous photos are in place. Illustrations are forthcoming. It’s a passion project and those sort of things have to be done independently–not for the publishing industry Machine.
Since an ebook can be done so easily, that bit should be available semi-soon and I’ll list it for free or a low cost. But, the nature of this book is not good for that format. It’s just NOT the sort of book. It won’t “work” 100% if it’s only digitally available. It should be material.
It should be held and kept by the bed table. Read to children who turn its pages and hear the sounds of the paper, and feel the texture on their little fingers. It should hold the occasional tear puddle like some of my Narnia books, and my Little Prince book have. It should be beautiful and lasting and not just a click away.
And for adults it promises to have the same magic of the classic stories read to them once in the twilight nights of warm summers when the lighting bugs danced, and everything was possible.
So, I’m going to raise money and self-publish with art book quality as a short run. You can join me in this leg of the journey.
Here is the cover.
(Stop by within a week and see another spread.)
I’ll gave you more details soon.
Again, last night I heard from a man about my age whose been locked up for more than 20 years. Plenty of the men I encounter have spent more time behind bars than outside them.