So people were actually nice to my draft memoir last night. A few sharp people pointed out the parts of it that are weak, but several also said that it was pretty. Come to think of it, maybe they were saying that it was “pretty weak.” I don’t quite remember.
The fun part is that they spent over an hour talking about, yes, ME. One rule is that the author is not allowed to speak at all, so that made it this cool fly on the wall experience. Sarah said that I looked like I was in agony. Some people thought it meant that I didn’t like being a father. One guy said that references to some fairly well known movies and a couple of books were off-putting because he didn’t get them. “Then read more,” I thought.
Overall, though, people were pretty nice to it. Maybe nicer than they had to be, sure, but it was an encouraging experience.