Yesterday, I had a wonderful talk with my grandfather. He told me about his past, from the time he ran away from home at age 14, until when he met and married my grandmother at age 18. He also told me about his journey to find his father. It's really a wonderful story, an adventure.
I took notes, and already I have more questions, so I'm going to call him again next weekend. Problem is, I think he's misunderstood my intentions. He left a message on my answering machine saying, "call me before you write my story" because "I left a few things out and I want you to get it right." Ok grandpa.
Grandpa is a voracious reader...of the Bible. Anything else, he'd probably consider too worldly, and therefore a waste of time. Or sinful. I'm not sure if he's understanding the concept of my writing fiction based upon his real life events. I think he'd prefer I write a biography.
Thing is, I'd love to write this story, and maybe I will someday, but right now it feels too overwhelming, particularly given my already busy schedule. The amount of research would be a project in and of itself. The Great Depression. Center Street, a one-time bustling business and entertainment district in the African American community. Railroad workers. Race relations in the midwest during the depression. I'm just not ready to take on something so big.
So in the meantime, I'm just going to enjoy listening to the stories about my grandfather's past. And hearing his version of how grandma pursued him even though he thought she was too mean and had his eye on other girls. Lol! Grandma would be so maaad if she knew what he said. I can hear her fussing at him now.
In other news: Welcome to the blogosphere, fellow Austinite and children's writer, Liz Garton Scanlon.