I’m writing my memoirs and hoping to finish them by the end of the year. The memoirs are a different product than this novel I finished a while back. Don’t worry, I’m not holding back on you guys. I want to do a re-write on that iconoclastic book before I make it available for download. I hope to have that novel ready for the public by mid-year.
Meanwhile, I’m plugging away on the memoir and sifting through thousands and thousands of family photos, audio files, and home movies. Approximately 10,000 family photos. The oldest are from the 1880s. [We’re a shutterbug family with an obvious streak of vanity.]
I’m getting really good at tracing family physical characteristics in the photos and can even recognize individuals from grainy baby photos.
But I took a break and had a bit of fun with my daughter’s picture.
That’s me on the right at my grandmother’s chateau, Castel St. Jean, in la Dordogne, overlooking the field that was the site of the Battle of Castillion. [When the French talk about a “chateau” it’s not really a castle so much as a large, old, damp, and mildewed house that will make me sneeze and feel miserable.]
In that photo, I was five-years old. That’s my daughter on the left at my great aunt’s house, also five-years old, standing next to the same lion statue.
I’m loving my “haughty-to-the-manner-born” face. I promise I’m more down to earth than the photo would imply! 😉
Poor li’l lion statue is starting to look worse for wear.