Thank you, Narco News, and Stephen King, too

I have only read one book by Stephen King.  I may never read another.  It is not that I have anything against Mr. King.  I actually consider him a friend, although we have never met.  It is simply that I don’t like horror stories.

That dislike probably goes back to my childhood.  My older sisters used to listen to a weekly radio program, Inner Sanctum Mysteries.  It was on the air in the early evening and began with the sound of a screechy door.  I would cover my ears and ask them to shut it off.  They laughed and never did.  And I?  I continued to hear that damn door until the next morning when I awoke. Part of the problem was that we had screechy doors in our house.  Built in the late nineteenth century, we also had screechy floors and screechy ceilings.  As an adult, those sounds became soothing, like an old grandparent with false teeth chattering wrapping arms around a child.  But as a small boy, it was continuous Inner Sanctum Mystery .

As I grew up, just reading the morning newspaper was sufficient to fill my daily nutritional needs of horror.  Crimes on the streets were a small part of that.  Constant wars and worldwide hunger have made up the major part of my intake.  Reading a horror book or going to a scary movie would have only caused indigestion and so I have avoided them.

But somewhere I heard or read that Stephen King had published an excellent book entitled, On Writing, A Memoir of the Craft .  I have since read and re-read the book.  I love it.  That is where I encountered the fantastic and true quotation with which I started this essay.

The book does have some frightening scenes in it such as when his mother describes a sailor who jumped out of a building and “splattered.”  She added, “The stuff that came out of him was green.”  That’s horrible.  But King’s presentation made me laugh.  I like writing that makes me laugh.

So, today, I want to thank Stephen King for all that he shared in On Writing and all that I learned in it about writing.  Even more, I also want to thank you for all you have taught me and for your belief in me.

Two years ago, on my birthday, we officially inaugurated my blog, Cowboy in Caracas.  Two weeks ago, shortly before my birthday, I received a letter from a publisher with these words:

“I have just finished your moving manuscript on Venezuela...  We definitely would like to publish it...  Tomorrow I will send you a contract for your consideration.”  On my birthday, I signed it.

I have been told that getting a publisher for a book is like winning a lottery.  There are millions of unpublished manuscripts in homes throughout the world that have never seen the eyes of anyone except their authors.  And suddenly, one day, Charlie Hardy receives a letter saying, “We definitely would like to publish it.”

It was night when I received the e-mail with those words.  No creaky doors, no creaky floors, suddenly just sunshine and lollipops at ten p.m.

The book is about Venezuela.  I will let you know when the publication date is announced.  But for the moment, I simply want to thank all those who have encouraged me as a writer as well as all the people who have shared their lives and their love with me through the years.

In that context, I have a huge debt to the people I have met through Narco News and the Narco News School of Authentic Journalism.  It was the donations of many people that made it possible for me to be a part of these.  Therefore, I have decided to donate the first ten percent from the advance that I am receiving for the book to The Fund for Authentic Journalism.  I would not only encourage others who are reading this to also contribute to the fund, but I would beg you to do so.  Narco News deserves our support.

Finally, I hope that my writing is never about me, but about you and all the other people I have had the privilege of knowing.  Again, thanks for believing in me.