Though both are based on the past, there is quite a difference writing historical fiction versus a memoir. One is based on events, people, and circumstances known to history while the other’s focus is unique to the author. Historical fiction requires topic research and some degree of subject matter expertise while a memoir is defined solely by the writer’s personal experiences. Historical fiction also uses plot devices and character development to drive the story while a memoir relies on the writer’s memories to relate a very private tale that hopefully strikes an emotional cord which resonates with the reader.
With few exceptions, the majority of my blog posts have related to my novel of westward expansion and the Plains Indian Wars. It is my more recent book, and I concentrated on it to build interest in a genre that not only reflects my writing preference but the focus of future book releases.
I didn’t initially promote my first book because it was a very personal endeavor that I wrote with my children and grandchildren in mind. It spoke to my relationship with my dad and his influence on me as I grew up. He was my hero, and I wanted them to understand why I held my dad in such high regard and why I wanted them to never forget him or the values that he tried to pass on to each of us. I must have succeeded to some degree as it was my children that encouraged me to publish and market my memoir.
Later this month (August 26th) I’ll be holding a book signing at the Twig Bookshop at the Pearl in San Antonio that will feature both my books. And, while I’ve written extensively about my novel, I thought it important to return to the book that began my love of writing. In so doing, I hope that current and new readers of my blog might learn more of who I am and might also make a connection with one or more of the themes that I addressed in my first effort as a writer.
The book evolved into a personal journey, becoming a catharsis of sorts for me… coming to grips with the loss of the man I was privileged to call a friend, brother-in-arms, role model, and most importantly… my dad. Equally important, the book also allowed me to redefine my relationship with my sister after our father’s death. It is neither autobiography nor biography. It is merely the memories, anecdotes, and musings of a son written down for his children and grandchildren. If it finds additional readership, it will be the result of a chord or chords struck amongst other sons and daughters who remember a father who loved them and whom they loved. – excerpt from Silver Taps.