But for me, writing began when I was a very young child—the fifth
grade—and the biggest encouragement came from my grandparents, Oscar and Irene.
They bought me books, coaxed me to read and write more and more, and were some
of my biggest cheerleaders on simple things like being the high school
newspaper editor and writing short stories for class. When I disappeared for
years into the military to chase adventures, my grandmother remained
steadfastly in my corner and always reminded me of my first love—to be an
author. It took years for me to settle down and begin that journey with
deliberation and not as some fanciful pipedream. But all the way, I could hear my grandparents
pushing me on until the years—and they—had gone by before I knew it.
Age has taken its toll on me one day at a time—and oh hell, I ain’t that old! My swashbuckling days are in the
past with great memories and lost friends. No more hot surveillance through the
streets of Athens and Istanbul. No homicide interrogations or drug deals. I
can’t go days without sleep on operations looking for Abu Nidal or 17 November.
No more protecting world leaders or celebrities. Crime scenes have been
replaced by desk tops and keyboards. My steadfast partner replaced by two
Labradors and a Mastiff. Fast cars and cool guns are replaced by, well, fast
motorcycles and cool guns—okay some things never change.
I miss those days being an adventurer and pseudo-tough guy (that
definition is very loose, mind you). In my earlier days, it took a lot to
control me or keep me in line. I’ve always kept my emotions and weaknesses
protected. It took a lot to break through the outer shell and get inside. I
always kept my feelings and real persona hidden because of a business most only read about in books
or see on the six o’clock news.
Not anymore. Age and green eyes felled me.
 |
| Rail waiting for Papa to finish writing... |
How could the toughest of men not melt to that?
Since moving in with us—her mom and dad are building a new house—Rail
has installed herself as my constant companion, editor, supervisor, and
chief-assistant. My other five kids—all adults and most married with kids of
their own—cannot believe that this hardcore, workaholic, blustering rock has
been felled by a three year old.
Neither can I.
Now mind you, I’ve chased terrorists and criminals, spent sleepless
days-on-end running operations in foreign countries during wartime, and had my
share of nail-biting moments and terrifying misadventures (bad guys and divorce
lawyers included). But never in my days have I ever felt so helpless and not in
control as when I hear the words, “Papa, you and me, let’s … play ball, watch
Doc, make breakfast, play hide and seek, watch Doc, watch Ponies, play Barbies,
make popcorn, watch Doc, hide from mommy, watch Doc, read another story …”
 |
| Teaching Papa to cook... |
When did I become a little girl’s teddy bear? When did this
metamorphosis occur and what happened to the real me—you know, the gruff,
solitary, biker-dude? Is there a peapod growing in my basement? An unreported
alien abduction?
Nope. Just green eyes. And every time I think of it, I remember Oscar
and Irene.
When my kids were young, I spent most of my time on the road—often times, not even in the same country. Later on, in their teenage years, I worked a billion hours a week and travelled constantly. Stress, exhaustion, and career were bad combinations and I dare say I missed some of the best years of my life. Thankfully, they’ve grown into very successful people on their own. Now, they are experiencing those same things and it makes it hard to have family close all the time. Understand, I have six wonderful grandchildren spread from Virginia to Japan. They all have a different, but personal bond with me. Jack, of course, joined the family last week and I've yet to introduce myself. No worries, Jack, you're part of the crew. With all six, the one bond I value the most is that bond that binds all of them together - regardless of me - as cousins. I know, I know, I'm too young for all this. Tell me about it!
Despite her rank as second to youngest, young Rail moreso benefits from
location. She’s with me every day and night and never far away. If Papa is
working, he must stop. If Papa is writing, he must move over and let her sit on
the desk and instruct him on prose and grammar and Doc McStuffins. If Papa is
cooking dinner, move her stool up and let her show me how to stir and spill and
drop eggs and create a mushroom cloud of flour.
Why is it, Papa, that you can’t work, write, cook, and clean and still
have time for hide and seek and Doc? Hmmmm? What the hell, Papa? What’s wrong?
Are you tired?
Never too tired. Yes, Oscar and Irene, I hear you whispering in my ear.
And she loves books too—something from me in her DNA that couldn’t have
come from my blood. We read everywhere and she loves to sit on my desk while I
write—normally in the middle of my desk, on front of the monitor, holding my
keyboard. And she knows my novels on the bookshelf and likes to look at them
often. Once, she carried one around for an hour and kept telling me, “Papa you
did this.” Yes, sweetie, I did. Maybe you will one day, too.
I have no doubts. Do you hear me Irene?
One only has to look at the young biker chick to know who wears the
leathers in this household. Last year, my Harley scared her to death. A month
ago, she began asking for a ride, but there’s no way I can do that yet.
Instead, I told her she had to be old enough to take the noise, had to be able
to sit on the bike safely, and had to be able to wear the gear.
Last night, she had enough of my solemn mood and writing. I didn’t have
time for hide and seek and wasn’t up for another episode of Doc. Instead, she
grabbed my hand, dragged me to the garage, and insisted I begin her training as
my biker chick and backseat companion. Sure, the leather jacket weighs more
than she does. The gloves are elbow length and the glasses can’t find a hold.
But the helmet ... that has possibilities!
So this once toughguy and world traveler extraordinaire has been tamed.
It took youth and green eyes to laugh in this old guy’s face and command my
obedience, playtime, stories, and of course, Doc. Soon, it’ll be, “Papa, take
me on the Harley.” Yes, ma’am—get your helmet, kid, let’s ride.
My grandparents were my biggest fans even before I’d published a book. They
knew it would happen. In being there for me, I learned a lot about how to
be one—a writer and a grandparent—even in my very, very young Papa-age. If I
can do nothing else for these youngs ones—all of them—I’ll show them that whatever they
want in life, whatever dreams they have, they can have them.
I did.
Now, other dreams—those new ones I hope I’m not too old to chase
(naw)—better look out. I’m ready to go—adventure, new novels, life’s missing
pieces, and yup, many Harley travels.
Someday—soon I hope—my rear Harley seat will have a passenger for those
new stories. It’s empty now and just waiting for those green eyes. Until then,
I’ll just write my adventures and wait …
Thank you Irene and Oscar for showing me the way. I’ll pass it all
along.
Tj O’CONNOR IS THE GOLD MEDAL WINNER OF
THE 2015 INDEPENDENT PUBLISHERS BOOK AWARDS (IPPY) FOR MYSTERIES. He is the
author of Dying to Know, Dying for the
Past, and Dying to Tell—and New Sins for Old Scores, a new
paranormal mystery coming in 2017! He is currently working on a new thriller.
Tj is an international security consultant specializing in anti-terrorism,
investigations, and threat analysis—life experiences that drive his novels.
With his former life as a government agent and years as a consultant, he has
lived and worked around the world in places like Greece, Turkey, Italy,
Germany, the United Kingdom, and throughout the Americas—among others. He was
raised in New York's Hudson Valley and lives with his wife and Lab companions
in Virginia where they raised five children. Dying to Know is also the 2015
Bronze Medal winner of the Reader’s
Favorite Book Review Awards, a finalist for the Silver Falchion Best Books of 2014, and a finalist for the Foreword Review’s 2014 INDIEFAB Book of the
Year Award.
Learn about Tj’s world at:
Web Site: www.tjoconnor.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/tjoconnor.author
Blog: http://tjoconnorbooks.blogspot.com/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7148441.T_J_O_Connor
