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Bad Dad Tale: Mentor, Monster, or Mercenary?

Richard Williams groomed his tennis daughters, Venus and Serena, from the time they were toddlers. They practiced returning hundreds of volleys, often into the wee hours. He was proud of their achievements, but regretted pushing them into tennis instead of a more lucrative sport. For another bad dad who saw fatherhood as a means to get rich, read The Great Stork Derby, based on an actual contest in which a husband pressures his wife to have babies for cash and, fifty years later, learns the true meaning of fatherhood. Read more about the book in NOVELS.

Richard Williams, father of Venus and Serena, is the controversial subject of the film “King Richard”

Toronto, 1926: A husband pressures his wife to have babies for a large cash prize

Early May Lament

From the erstwhile Poet Laureate of camp, dormitory, and office, verses inspired by rain, rain, and more rain during the first week of May in Michigan:

Endless precipitation
Breeds rank frustration
Storm clouds of hurt
As rains wash o’er dirt
Wading through mire
I fain would expire
Oh for a dry-eyed fling
Romping with glorious spring

Bad Dad Tale: Kafkaesque Kernel

Without Franz Kafka’s papa Hermann, the term “Kafkaesque” might not exist. In one famous wintry anecdote, the father shut his young son outside on the balcony in his nightshirt for daring to ask for a glass of water. In his mid-thirties, Kafka wrote his father a 100-page “lawyer’s letter” citing years of intimidation and emotional abuse, but, true to the genre, he never sent it. For the story of another bad dad, read The Great Stork Derby, based on an actual contest in which a husband pressures his wife to have babies for cash and, fifty years later, learns the true meaning of fatherhood. Read more about the book in NOVELS.

Father Hermann was the seed for his son Franz’s nightmares

“Mine!” Okay for Toddlers, Not for Cultures

As a novelist and short story writer, I have criticized charges of “cultural appropriation” because they stifle creativity and don’t acknowledge the role of empathy and imagination in fiction (see my essay “Theirs or Ours? Who Owns Culture? Appropriation on the Docket”). Claiming something is “Mine!” is normal in toddlers, but damaging in literature and the arts. So, it was with many head nods that I read The New York Times opinion piece, “The Limits of Lived Experience” by Pamela Paul, which says, in part, “According to many of those who wish to regulate our culture, only those whose ‘lived experience’ matches the story are qualified to tell the tale. As with most points of view, some of it is valid. Clearly those who have lived through something — whether it’s a tsunami or a lifetime of racial discrimination — have a story to tell. Their perspective is distinct and it’s valuable. But it is, crucially, only one perspective. And to suggest that only those whose identities match those of the people in a story is a miserly take on the human experience. Surely human beings are capable of empathizing with those whose ethnicity or country of origin differ from their own. Surely storytellers have the ability to faithfully imagine the experiences of ‘the other.’ If we all wrote only from our personal experience, our films, performances and literature would be reduced to memoir and transcription. What an impoverished culture that would be.” For additional notes from Paul’s essay, and more of my literary thoughts, see REFLECTIONS.

Crying “Mine!” is a normal stage in toddlers, but a dangerous trend in cultures

Why writers write: “There is no formula for how to write a book, and everyone works differently, so you have to figure out what works for you. Don’t let other dictate what you can and can’t do in a story.” – Alexandra Diaz

What I’m Reading: The Ones Who Remember: Second Generation Voices of the Holocaust

My Goodreads and Amazon reviews of The Ones Who Remember: Second Generation Voices of the Holocaust edited by Rita Benn, Julie Goldstein Ellis, Joy Wolfe Ensor, & Ruth Finkel Wade (Rating 5) – Inescapable and Unforgettable. We are all admonished to “Never Forget” the Holocaust, but for the children of survivors, remembering has a special significance. It requires bearing witness to the horrors their parents suffered. It pits a burning desire to know against a paralyzing dread of the anguish that probing for details will unleash. Remembering also means confronting the multi-generational trauma that children of survivors carry within themselves. The heartbreakingly honest collection of essays in The Ones Who Remember delves deeply into the scars carved into survivors and, in a unique contribution to Holocaust literature, the emotional and physical stamp left on the next generation. It is an inheritance these sixteen writers bear with pain and pride: the pain born of anxiety, depression, and the fear that one can never live up to their parents’ expectations or replace their inconceivable losses; the pride that swells for ancestors with the strength, wits, and determination to survive and begin anew. As a fiction and memoir writer myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I’m in awe of the complex portraits these authors paint of their parents, whose behavior ranges from smothering love to emotional numbness to fits of rage, and of themselves, whose reactions range from childhood puzzlement and resentment to adult empathy and forgiveness. This richly populated book is a tribute to the past and a testament to the future. The Holocaust’s casualties exceed the 6 million Jews and 5 million others murdered by the Nazis. A full count also includes the offspring who carry the memory in their DNA, marked as indelibly as their parents’ tattooed forearms.

What does “never forget” mean for the children of Holocaust survivors?

Why writers read: “Reading is an exercise in empathy; an exercise in walking in someone else’s shoes for a while.” – Malorie Blackman

No to Netflix, Yo to Novels?

The value of Netflix stock dropped 35% in April after the service lost subscribers for first time in over ten years. Some pundits attributed the loss to Netflix tightening the screws on password sharing; others to folks going out more as pandemic restrictions eased. My theory: people have reset their mental bandwidth and now have room to read at length. I haven’t owned a television for nearly twenty years. I opted to read instead. By coincidence, however, I signed up for Netflix shortly before COVID. At the pandemic’s height, when anxiety peaked, I unwound each evening with a half hour or so of screen time. I still read, but not with the same concentration. Now that COVID anxiety has abated, I can again dive deep into books. So perhaps other Netflix subscribers are also hitting “reset.” Their spirits up, they’re settling down with a good book. More literary thoughts at REFLECTIONS.

Are Netflix subscribers resetting their attention spans from screens to books?

Why writers read: “You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me.” – C. S. Lewis

Learn History Through Fiction: National Geographic’s “Dynamical Pictures” Damned

A character in my novel-in-progress collects old issues of National Geographic. When I was growing up in the 1950s, the iconic yellow-and-oak-leaf-bordered magazine took pride of place alongside the World Book Encyclopedia and Reader’s Digest Condensed Books in the Bronx apartment of our aspirational working class family. The magazine began in 1888 as a scholarly journal sent to 165 members of the National Geographic Society. In 1905, under the direction of Society President Alexander Graham Bell, it shifted to what he called “dynamical pictures.” The Board of Managers censured Bell for making the magazine “unscientific” but its popularity took off. The border was introduced in 1910 as an early attempt at branding. Color photos appeared in the 1930s. Today National Geographic has 40 million subscribers.

“Dynamical pictures” made the once-scholarly magazine “unscientific” but wildly popular

The yellow oak-leaf border was an early example of branding

No more oak leaves, only a bright yellow border

Bad Dad Tale: Heedless Father with Headless Wives

Henry VIII fathered an unknown number of children but acknowledged only seven as legitimate, among them Elizabeth I. He annulled two of his six marriages, beheaded two wives, and was the last Henry to head England. For the story of another bad dad, read The Great Stork Derby, based on an actual contest in which a husband pressures his wife to have babies for cash and, fifty years later, learns the true meaning of fatherhood. Read more about the book in NOVELS.

England has never been headed by a Henry IX

What I’m Reading: Blood Up North

My Goodreads and Amazon review of Blood Up North by Fredrick Soukup (Rating 5) – Hope Among the Hapless. Some people are bad; others are stupid. Some folks try to be good or smart but keep messing up. That sums up the hapless characters in Fredrick Soukup’s gritty, lowdown, yet often hilariously over-the-top novel Blood Up North, whose body count threatens to rival Hamlet. Don’t trust anything anyone says because they’ll change their story by the next page, if not the next paragraph. Cassie, the plucky protagonist, seems to have learned this, but out of her inherent kindness and/or search for love, she occasionally appears gullible. Whether she actually is, or merely joins every other character in taking the rest for a ride, readers will have fun following the plot’s convoluted twists and turns, even if, like me, you lose track of where they’ve been or might be going. As a fiction writer myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I admire Soukup’s ingenuity and ability to sustain the story’s momentum. What ultimately steers this book and makes readers care about the outcome is Cassie. She’s tough yet surprisingly vulnerable, competent with lapses of helplessness, a veritable venison stew of unresolvable parts. The girl has been dealt a lousy hand and deserves to outwit her tormentors, who are motivated by greed, revenge, and male ego. Root for her. You’ll be rewarded in the end.

Why writers read: “People can lose their lives in libraries. They ought to be warned.” – Saul Bellow

Bad Dad Tale: Seesaw Sire

In Never Mind, a work of auto-fiction by Edward St. Aubyn, the father in an aristocratic family is manipulative, sexually abusive, and alternately cruel and apologetic. The cost to his son is depression and heroin addiction. For the story of another bad dad who messes up his kids, read The Great Stork Derby, based on an actual contest in which a husband pressures his wife to have babies for cash and, fifty years later, learns the true meaning of fatherhood. Read more about the book in NOVELS.