March 27, 2008

Eighteen years ago

(Quick book biz: I made a best-seller list, here in Dallas. Not the end-all hootenanny of hootenannies, I realize, but baby steps, I tell you. More stuff coming, too, so stay tuned. My plan to eventually install Schuyler as the Cyborg Queen of America is proceeding on schedule. Mwuh-ha-ha-ha...)




This week marked eighteen years since my father died. It wasn't exactly a sad anniversary; eighteen years is a long time, after all. It won't be long before I will have lived without him for longer than he was here, and not that much longer before I find myself having lived longer than he did. So I've had some time to come to terms with not just his death, but his life, and mine as well.

If you've read the book, you know better than others how many of my father's most egregious faults have become my own. I'm aware of them, and I've fallen prey to some but not all of them. I'm a better husband than my dad was, but not always by much (and fans of Chapter Seven know what I'm talking about), I'm a better diabetic by far, and while I have my father's temper, I watch it constantly and at the very least vent it in ways that don't hurt anyone. I'd like to do better with that temper, but I remember just how afraid I always was of my dad when I was Schuyler's age, and I won't allow her to feel that same fear, ever.

It's one of the reasons I refuse to spank/beat/whatever-word-you-like my kid, and to be honest, it's the same reason I don't think anyone else should, either. Who has the temperament and self-control to be trusted never to cross the line between discipline and abuse? You? Are you sure about that? I'd want to be pretty sure myself, but that's just me.

(Sorry, tangent. Settling down now.)

I'm working on a new project, and what started off as a book about fatherhood is turning into something more personal, sort of a fatherhood memoir, from my perspective as a father but also as a son. There are still other stories I am including, such as Paul and Gage Wayment, and Joseph and Rolf Mengele. But it's my own perspective as the father of a broken but extraordinary child and the son of an abusive but complex father that I find myself wanting, or perhaps needing, to explore.

I'm forty years old, and I'm working on a second memoir. How narcissistic is that?

Will anyone want to read it? Well, obviously I hope so. We'll see. I wasn't sure anyone would want to read about seven years in the life of a mute child, either. There are plenty of inspirational warm fuzzy fatherhood books out there. I don't know that the world needs another Tim Russert book, and if it does, I think Tim's probably got that one covered.

Eighteen years ago, standing at my father's graveside, I thought that perhaps I hated him, and that he certainly hated me. Almost two decades later, I know that I don't, and probably never did, not for long, anyway. As to how he felt about me, I find myself not much closer to that answer. He took that one to the grave with him. Which is perhaps just as well.

24 comments:

Shannon said...

Well, based upon what you wrote in this post I know I'll want to read the second memoir of a 40 year old :)

I think it will appeal to a lot of people because more people than not will have dads like yours.

I know my dad was very volatile being that he had a temper to begin with along with being messed up mentally from Vietnam.

My husband talks about how volatile his dad was. My best friend talks about how volatile her dad was. My best friend in H.S. used to call me in hysterics as I heard her father in the background crashing around the house.

Believe me. Your book will appeal to a lot of people.

Jenn said...

I think it will appeal to a lot of people, including your daughter. I would love to have two books that allowed me to have a better understanding of my father.

Anonymous said...

While the specifics of my situation are different, I think I might hate my father (who is still living and is quite healthy.) I'm confused about my feelings today and I often wonder how I'll feel when he does die and how those feelings will evolve after he's gone. It is a very complex issue and I look forward to reading your take on it in the next book.

Anonymous said...

I think you are an amazing writer and I'll buy the next book. But I really think there is a great children's book in you (or two or ...) -- stellasmom

Anonymous said...

I think you are a wonderful writer, and I will certainly buy your next book. But, I think there may be a children's book (or 7) in you?!?

-- stellasmom

Anonymous said...

I really enjoyed your book, and I will read the next one for sure.

I have similar conversations in my head about my own father, and do my own analysis of my own situation in my own way. But it would be very cool to read about someone else's approach and conclusions from their own situation.

Anonymous said...

Hey, you beat out Joel Osteen *and* Glenn Beck. Groovy!

Linda Ball said...

I think you are SO cute in that picture. I was kind of afraid of my dad and he could be stern, but he was also gentle when he wanted to be and now I see myself in him. Now, I'm his caregiver. He is afraid of me! I cajole him to wear his hearing aids, take his cell phone when he leaves the house, wear his "I've fallen" button. He is afraid of upsetting me. I understand him very well now that I know his personality, at the core, is very like mine. My mother even kind of felt 'ganged up on' when it was just Dad and I. My sister thinks like my mom. I find that after I lost my mom I was able to be more rational about any faults she had. I can still remember her saying to me: "You are JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER!" with the most disgusted voice. Sadly or happily she was right.

These tales are universal. That might mean that a book about fathers would be less interesting than one with the mysterious child at the center, but really it's how you spin the tale. I assume it will involve Rock 'em Sock 'em robots??

Anonymous said...

While my father was never violent or ever raised his hands to me, there are things that he did that I will never, ever forget or forgive. I did hate him for a long time, but learned the hard way that it really hurt no one but me. When he passed away, I hadn't seen him for over ten years and I did not shed a tear. I think the book you are contemplating will have a great appeal to many people.

Anonymous said...

Considering that you area kind, caring, and introspective father yourself, I am amazed that you were not parented in the same way.

I only knew my husband's father toward the end of his life, after all the bitterness had leeched to the surface. I would not treat a dog the way I saw that man treat his son, my husband. So even if your father had lived longer than he did, there was no guarantee of resolution.

But I guess you know that by now.

Ignatz

Anonymous said...

i will never spank my child again, your words had impact on me. i was abused, and i rarely spank my 4 kids, because i've always been afraid of losing control like my parents did. why take that risk at all? there are other ways to discipline. thank you for your words. i will be buying yoru book when i can, and would buy another if you wrote it.

Anonymous said...

Rob, I'd read it too.
My father was sexually abusive, but I have lots of friends who've had physically or verbally violent dads, and I think all of us struggle with some similar issues when we become parents ourselves -- How do we parent in a good way when that was not at all modeled for us?
Are you familiar with the research being done on forgiveness? Here's a link to an article about Robert Enright, a prof. of educational psych. at Univ. of Wisconsin -
http://www.jsonline.com/story/index.aspx?id=694625
He developed some steps for forgiveness (which is not the same as condoning a behavior), and then worked with incest victims and theorized that those who were able to go further in the steps of forgiveness had better mental health. I don't know if this would be interesting to you in your research.

PS - you are a really cute boy in that pic!

Anonymous said...

You talked about trying to be a better parent and husband than your father was, and I wanted to say that when it comes to being a parent, trying is probably more important than anything else. Even succeeding. Cause in parenting, there is no success. There is no sense that the job is over with, that your role is done and you can quit now. There's no point at which you quit being a dad. Even when a child dies, you are still their parent. And you never know how good a job you did. You know you did some things well, but not if you could have done better. And you know you made some mistakes, but not how badly they affected your kid. The only thing you can know for sure is that you tried. And hopefully, your kids will know that you tried and it will give them strength and hope as they lead their lives. Knowing that someone loved you enough to try is a solace and a comfort that all of us should have. And Schuyler will know that you tried for her. And no matter what she goes through, it will help.

Bev Sykes said...

Maybe one of the reasons why I have been so taken with your relationship with Schuyler all these years is because I'm jealous of her and the unconditional love she has always known from her father, the same kind of love our kids have known from THEIR father, which skipped my generation.

I think a second memoir would perhaps even have a broader audience because while not all of us have "broken children," all of us have or had fathers and many of us had complicated relationships with them.

You are such a skillful writer, and perhaps never better than when you are doing introspective self-examination. I think it would definitely be a book I would read.

BethE said...

Rob, I wanted to tell you- there is one (1) copy of your book in our library system. I put it on reserve so that I can check it out when its available, but I am the fourth (4) person to do you. YOu rock!

Courtney Kay said...

sometimes there are some things we should never know...

Liana said...

First of all- I'd like to read it!
Also, I think fatherhood is still undervalued in this country and society, I really do.
Last year I went to a baby shower and the mother-in-law of the pregnant woman was all "Motherhood is the Most Important Job in the World!" and I had to bite my tongue...and wrote a blog entry about it later called "Dads are Important Too." I know BOTH of my parents shaped and affected me in countless ways, ways I'm still discovering.
Fatherhood needs to be explored and appreciated more!

Anonymous said...

Congrats on making the list!
I do plan on reading your book, I really do. Looks like I will have to order it since I can't find it around here at our sorry excuse for a book store A.K.A. Hastings.

Solcat said...

You can file this under fancy pants..
In my WR243 course as 20% of my final grade I am to write an 'author study' (choose writer of creative non-fiction i.e memoir, personal essay, ect. and study one book length work of the author's. The study will culminate in a short, informal essay about the writer and brief study of what was learned from the assignment)
So now you're the subject of a college paper :)
I admit to be torn between three authors. Yourself, Augusten Burroughs and John Elder Robison.

Anonymous said...

The last paragraph made my eyes fill up with tears. As a parent, nothing would be worse than to imagine your child at your grave someday wondering if you loved them. Thanks for the poignant reminder of how important it is to show our children this love while we can. Loved your book, BTW.

Anonymous said...

This might be creepy, but I will go valiantly forth anyway:

I received your book for my birthday (not that I begged for it, mind you, because of course not, that would be silly) and I've read almost the whole thing in about two days. I took a nap this afternoon after polishing off a few chapters, and I had a Schuyler Speaks dream. In my dream I was babysitting her for some reason, and she just... started talking. I don't remember what she said, but it was all very normal stuff. I took a little video with my digital camera for you and Julie, just in case she suddenly stopped talking, and then she and I wrote a story and had some cake. (And complained about Smallville, but that's probably not an essential part of the dream.)

Your gorgeous daughter and gorgeous words are giving the whole world awesome dreams, Rob. Thanks for letting this stranger into her world for a while.

Anonymous said...

Look what I found on Ebay today!
http://cgi.ebay.com/Schuylers-Monster-Robert-Rummel-Hudson-Memoir-ARC-New_W0QQitemZ250231295751QQihZ015QQcategoryZ378QQrdZ1QQssPageNameZWD7VQQcmdZViewItem?_trksid=p1638.m123
I don't think I have ever seen a book for sale that was not corrected yet. So who gets these books in the first place and can they sell them? Just curious!?

Robert Hudson said...

Those are Advance Reader's Copies, uncorrected because they haven't had the final copyedit yet. They get sent out to reviewers and any media group that operates on a monthly lead time rather than weekly. Early reviews are generated by these, as well as good word of mouth. Buyers for bookstores also rely on them to decide what they're going to carry in stock.

I'm not sure if they are supposed to be sold or not (probably not), but it's actually not a bad thing when they are, since it helps generate word of mouth, which is what they're supposed to do in the first place anyway.

I hope it goes for more than five bucks, though.

Anonymous said...

You're a better husband than your dad???? Just what kind of husband was your dad, a polygamous cannibal axe murderer?