i have started to read "in the darkroom" last night. it is a memoir which centers on the author's father who at the age of 76 came out as a transgender and underwent a sex re-assignment. it is an interesting read but it was like reading my own emotions about my father. the author starts to tell about her journey to hungary in 2004 to interview her father. well, didn't i travel in 2004 to manila to interview my father for that book i've been writing by the piece-meal since i could remember.
while the author's interview bore fruit and she was able to write her book, mine didn't. all that my father told me were lies, the same lies that i have heard over the years, and not the truth that was very seldom whispered about. there had been no verification of the what and the why. he had promised to record everything and would give me the tapes when he died. of course he died and there were no tapes. the fact is my father was a coward and he couldn't admit to us his children the wrong doings he had committed during the war. he had been blackmailed by his relatives so that they wouldn't tell his children the truth. i knew the truth from my mother but i needed him to confirm it. in 2004 i confronted him to tell me if it was true or not. he took a long time to reply to me, i could almost see the cogs and little wheels inside his head turning madly, debating with himself whether to admit the truth or not. in the end what he said was, it will be on the tape.
the bastard died in 2018. of course there was no tape and in the last few years of his life, he became estranged again with us his children. until his last days, i did what a good daughter would have done, supporting him and his second family. but i could write the book if i want to, to hell with whoever would get hurt because, unlike him i am not a coward. his sins aren't mine and i know i could write objectively. my relatives can try to murder me if and when this book gets published. i have made this known to them with a warning: i will throw stones in the air, tough luck if one falls on you. so far, only one, has communicated with me, pleading me to not write the story. oh, yes, i am writing it.
Love the shot of your gorgeous sunflowers. It sounds like quite a thriller you are writing and makes me rather curious. Of course many know what went on during the war when the Japanese where in the Philippines. Hope you get to finish your book ;-)
You are reaching for a lot of courage here and i think you are quite capable of it. I'm sure you won't put anything down that could be challenged but as long as its your thoughts, it will be OK! Go for it, strong lady!
These two sunflowers are facing up to us!
FAV for the photo Which is such a delicate feminine looking image and completely the opposite of the strength you show in your narrative. I confess you have piqued my curiosity and hope I get to speak to you personally someday!
Are you writing more than one book? Or is the book you are writing the biography?
Lovely image. I had difficulty deciding whether I like the light on the right side or not, but I believe I do, as it sort of balances out the flowers.
Just a thought related to the book, I hope that writing it will purge some negative feelings or serve some uplifting purpose otherwise it might be better to let it go. You would be the bigger person.
These two sunflowers are facing up to us!
Are you writing more than one book? Or is the book you are writing the biography?
Just a thought related to the book, I hope that writing it will purge some negative feelings or serve some uplifting purpose otherwise it might be better to let it go. You would be the bigger person.