Another textbook? Yeah. Another one. And one that makes me pretty damned proud.
I spend a great deal of time with folks my age and older, and the one thing many of us have in common is the desire to leave something behind–some insights into what made us the people we’ve become. Many of us, myself included, hope our children and grandchildren will one day cherish knowing how we grew up; how we faced the crises of our generations; how we endured the challenges that came our way.
The sticking point is knowing they couldn’t care less right now. They’re kids, at least compared to our generations. And to be brutally honest, when we were their age, we didn’t give a damn about where our parents and grandparents came from either. Now, however, most of us would kill to have some written record of our ancestors’ lives. I sure would. And that’s why I wrote this book.
For many people, the best way to provide family and personal information is via memoir. But for that same crowd, just getting started–let alone finishing–can be a monumental task. Where do you start? What do you include? What will dear old Aunt Ammonia say?
Navigating these bizarre corridors can be time-consuming and energy-depleting. So, those are two more reasons why I wrote the book. A memoir doesn’t have to be *that* tough. Buried in there somewhere are laughs and lighter moments. There must be, else we wouldn’t have survived this long or have the desire to write about what we went through. Our kids and grandkids will care, one day. It’s an absolute, guaranteed, gonna happen deal.
You owe it to yourself and your survivors to tell them your story. I just wanted to make that job a little easier. Anyway, that’s my raison d’etre. There are certainly worse reasons for writing a book. I’d love to hear yours!