Why would I do this, you ask?
Ever since I showed him a poem at age 5 he thought I should have been a writer. Fast forward to now. I recently lamented to him that I wanted to dump the PR career and become a full-time writer. [[Enter self set-up.]] He asked to “see my stuff.” (He has a PhD in American literature.) I didn’t. I mean I couldn’t!
But then he came to visit me – in person. Ignoring his request was no longer an option. This was especially true since a few weeks earlier my first novella published on Amazon. (Amazon is the Holy Place for readers like my father and stepmother, who was never separated from her Kindle the entire trip). Had he discovered I was actually PUBLISHED and not told him? Well, I’d have been in Big Trouble. So, I figured either way, I was in Big Trouble. So, why not just go for it?
Our conversation went something like this.
Dad: “So, how’s the writing coming?”
Me: Well, I have something to tell you. I’ve been published.
Dad: What? Why didn’t you tell us?
Me: Um, there’s something I have to tell you first. I write some pretty steamy stuff.
Dad: That’s okay. [[waves hand]]
Me: Well, uh, I mean, I write erotic romance. You know, with sex and stuff.
Me: No, really, dad. I use the “c” words and the “p” words. Stepmom maybe you should read it first.”
She looked up from her kindle and simply said. “Don’t worry. Your father has been places.”
And there you have it. My father’s “been places.” Let’s hope he feels the same way once he’s read my novella. Because he’s about to get a whole different viewpoint of Washington, D.C.
Before my father left I gave him one last warning. “Uh, dad, I also use the “F” word. A lot.”
His reply? “If you don’t hear from us again, it means we’ve melted. Like the Wicked Witch of the West in a puff of smoke.” At least he was laughing when he said it.
I’ll report in once he’s read it. If he hasn’t melted, of course.