For the past 10 years, my Mom has been writing books. Until November, I’d never read any of them, except for a rough draft of her first one about 10 years ago.
The reason I’d never read any is because I thought it would be weird. I imagined that it would be like watching a movie in which your good friend was an actor… where you couldn’t take the movie seriously because you know that the actor is really just your friend, and that he’s faking it. Similarly, I thought that knowing the author of a novel would prevent me from taking the story seriously. And I thought it would be especially awkward if my mother wrote in a style that was different from how she spoke.
Let me kill the suspense: [Read more...]