My grandfather, who went by Henry his entire life, was really born Francis Michael Laskin. On occasion a few of the older relatives would call him Frank, a name he neither acknowledged nor accepted. I had never understood it as a child but... now in my early thirties, everything I knew about the man, his entire life, those that loved him and those that tried to control him all became clear and it all began with a pair of my grandfather's pants.
This book has a current Amazon Rating of 4.8*'s.
Get your copy for just $0.99!
REVIEWS FROM THIS TOUR
May 3 - A Life Through Books - Review
May 4 - Texas Book Nook - Review
May 6 - Mismatched Bookends - Review
May 7 - Rhythem Poets - Review
I was raised pretty much the same as everyone else... devoted mother, strict father and all the imaginary friends I could conjure. Not that I wasn't friendly, I just wasn't "people orientated". Maybe I lived in my head way more than I should have, maybe not. I liked machines more than people, at least I did until I met my wife.
The first thing I can remember writing was for her. For the life of me I can't remember what it was about... something about dust bunnies under the bed and monsters in my closet. It must have been pretty good because she married me shortly after that. I spent a good number of years after inventing games and prototypes for a variety of ideas before I got back to writing.
It wasn't a deliberate conscious thought, it was more of a stepping stone. My wife and I had joined a dream interpret group and we were encouraged to write down our dreams as they occurred. "Be as detailed as you can," we were told.
I was thrilled. If there is one thing I enjoy it's making people believe me and I like to exaggerate. Not a big exaggeration or an out right lie mine you, just a little step out of sync, just enough so you couldn't be sure if it were true or not. When I write, I always write with the effort of "it could happen" very much in mind and nothing, I guarantee you, nothing, makes me happier.
My grandfather, who went by Henry his entire life, was really born Francis Michael Laskin. On occasion a few of the older relatives would call him Frank, a name he neither acknowledged nor accepted. I had never understood it as a child but... now in my early thirties, everything I knew about the man, his entire life, those that loved him and those that tried to control him all became clear and it all began with a pair of my grandfather's pants.
This book has a current Amazon Rating of 4.8*'s.
Get your copy for just $0.99!
Get your copy for just $0.99!
REVIEWS FROM THIS TOUR
May 3 - A Life Through Books - Review
May 4 - Texas Book Nook - Review
May 6 - Mismatched Bookends - Review
May 7 - Rhythem Poets - Review
I was raised pretty much the same as everyone else... devoted mother, strict father and all the imaginary friends I could conjure. Not that I wasn't friendly, I just wasn't "people orientated". Maybe I lived in my head way more than I should have, maybe not. I liked machines more than people, at least I did until I met my wife.
The first thing I can remember writing was for her. For the life of me I can't remember what it was about... something about dust bunnies under the bed and monsters in my closet. It must have been pretty good because she married me shortly after that. I spent a good number of years after inventing games and prototypes for a variety of ideas before I got back to writing.
It wasn't a deliberate conscious thought, it was more of a stepping stone. My wife and I had joined a dream interpret group and we were encouraged to write down our dreams as they occurred. "Be as detailed as you can," we were told.
I was thrilled. If there is one thing I enjoy it's making people believe me and I like to exaggerate. Not a big exaggeration or an out right lie mine you, just a little step out of sync, just enough so you couldn't be sure if it were true or not. When I write, I always write with the effort of "it could happen" very much in mind and nothing, I guarantee you, nothing, makes me happier.
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