In recent months, I’ve been finalizing my memoir The Troubles (subtitle to be added later), sending it out to various beta readers who have been enormously helpful in catching all kinds of stuff that slipped through. The intention was to prepare the manuscript for professional editing. If I can make the editor’s job easier, they’ll be able to better focus on what matters rather than simple stuff like grammar or punctuation. Editing costs money, and I want to make sure I get my money’s worth.
Back in October, I found out our local library put on a “Writer in Residence” program featuring author Marc Mason. There were sparse details, but I thought, what the hell, and signed up. I thought I would show him some of my work and get his take on things, maybe get some advice. If nothing else, it would force me out of my shell. And it did!
We talked about my book, and in the end, Marc asked if I would come back and read a sample in front of an audience. I agreed.
Yesterday, I read an excerpt from The Troubles about my first trip to Saudi Arabia. I was nervous and forgot to put my introduction sheet on top, which would have given some context. Like it was 1978, I was thirteen, that we had moved from Alaska to Saudi Arabia, that Roger was my older brother, and that I was in Ireland during the Troubles. I at least introduced myself as Richard Nixon and added I was not named for that Richard Nixon. Just as well, because I apparently went over time. Thankfully, I was so intent on my reading that I didn’t see Jesus in the back making the “T” sign with his hands. But I read loud and clear, got laughs at the right times, and when I finished, the audience of about twenty applauded enthusiastically. I’ve one more beta reader to go, and then the real fun begins. Barring some unforeseen disaster, I think 2026 will be a good year.