Note: I’m cribbing this from Patrick Rothfuss’s blog, for reasons I will explain below… and this is edited from the original – cut sections designated by individual lines of “…” (I encourage you to follow the link above for the full story)
A couple days ago, the two of us were taking a walk, giving mom some time to herself. We were looking at trees mostly.
Then out of the blue he says, “Y’know dad, I’d like to see you write your own book.”
“What was that?” I ask. It’s caught me a little off guard. He knows I’m an author, but he’s never asked anything like this before.
Anyway, Oot repeats himself, he says, “I’d like to see you write your own book.”
I thought about it a little bit, then asked, “What do you think that would look like?”
“Oh you know,” he said, very matter-of-fact. “You’d pull a feather out of a turkey. Then dip it in some ink and write on some paper.”
I nodded. “That is probably what it would look like.”
Then I asked, “How much time do you think it takes to write a book?”
“Oh you know,” he said. “Not so long….”
I’ll admit my heart fell a little bit when he said that. I found myself thinking, Oh Oot, not you too….
But then he kept going, “…but long.”
And you know what? He’s exactly right. That’s exactly how much time it takes to write a book: Not so long, but long.
Cute, right? That’s part of why I wanted to share it. The other reason, is that it’s a father-son moment similar to one that I hope – nay, anticipate – having at some point in the future. I hope when the time comes, it goes somewhere near as well.