Author Letter
February 8, 2010
I was born to a family that couldn’t afford for that to happen. My father had been drafted to serve in World War II and was dismayed to discover that a corporal’s pay provided far less than he had earned as an attorney. Being forced to live with my maternal grandparents in their apartment was tough for my grandparents. But it enabled me to grow up with my grandfather and grandmother in constant attendance. I believe they shaped me into the person I am today, which is why I dedicated Waking Up to them.
Grandpa exemplified courage, having left everything behind in 1910 when he emigrated from Russia to America. He offered his grandson the wisdom of his years. I remember a particular lesson, when I said something I soon regretted. He taught me, “You’re the boss over your words until they leave your mouth. Then you no longer own them.” Grandma gave me love and support and my name. The “A” in “A. Joseph Traum” stands for “Alan,” a fine name but a word she couldn’t pronounce in her Austrian dialect without adding an “H”, making my name sound like “Helen.” She found “Joe” much easier.
Writing a novel is arduous and lonely, and I often wondered why I had undertaken it. I had written for publication in my early years—as a sports columnist for my high school paper and later, as editor-in-chief of my college newspaper. But for forty plus years, I had been limited to preparing things like minutes of meetings, offering brochures for real estate sales and financings, and reports to clients, and then in the mid-90s, a chapter for a shopping center textbook. At times, when it seemed like Waking Up would never happen, I would think of my grandparents, perk up, and move forward.
My wife (Rhoda) and my children (Juliet and Seth) supported me with total faith and more; especially Seth, who believed me when I told him I welcomed his criticism of the early drafts of Waking Up.
If you’ve read this far, I appreciate your interest in me and my work. I hope you enjoy Waking Up and the novels that I promise to finish over the coming months and years.
Sincerely,
