I wrote my first novel for the man who put me on his shoulders and showed me the world, happy Father’s Day
That’s my father, he died many years ago on a business trip to London.
And being my father’s daughter, this is the deal—this portrait of him is a link to my Hollywood novel, click and it’ll take you to Amazon. Hold onto your hats for a rare “non-fiction” moment, I wrote my father into the book.
Why is it the deal? Because one of the things my dad taught me was to stick with a project and to push it as hard as you could, as big as you could, all the time.
When things went south a couple of years ago and my publishing deal disappeared in a flash of— something—one of the reasons I didn’t stall out was because of Dad’s influence, to quote:
“I’m gonna let you in on something eighty years of experience have taught me. For the better part, whatever the circumstances were that led you here in this life, whatever the past was, and whatever excuses you can come up with—this is it. This is a philosophy you can live by: Nobody cares, you have to get over it, and grow a pair.”
The character is the same, a few of the details are different.