My name is Lawrence Tudgeman. I am sixteen years old, and today is the end of an era in my life. My father, Garrison Tudgeman, has hit the big times.
Yep, he finally wrote something an editor liked. It's a TV series about a girl in junior high... Anyway, he got the letter this morning, and he hasn't left his study since. On the one hand, we're rich! He's already promised me a shirt for every day of the week, and my mom can go back to school like she's always wanted. Still, I can't help being worried.
Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that I can go to college loan free and my dad's the happiest I've ever seen him. But I'm not sure I'll be able to see him that much anyway. He's going to be busy writing almost all day.
When I was little, he was almost omnipresent. He was always suffering writer's block and all too easy to interrupt. I learned how to throw a football, tie a square knot, and fish from him (not as cool as some of the stuff Ethan's dad taught us, but still pretty neat). Gary Tudgeman was a guy you could talk to any time. I don't know if that's true anymore.
Almost everything I am I learned from him. He taught me to have pride in my actions, even when others didn't like them. He showed me that the popular kids were the ones having the least fun, and that it didn't matter how you looked to the world, but how the world looked to you. He watched me change from a cynical little boy to a strong young man, and I never would have made it without him.
I suppose it's a good thing. When I go to college, I'm really going to miss him. This might ease the separation process (whoa, maybe I am learning something in psych). That doesn't make me feel much better, but it's something.
Ever hopeful,
Larry Tudgeman