On the eve of your inauguration to the highest office in the land, I wanted to pass along the thoughts of someone you’ll likely never know or meet. I don’t mean to be a scolding parent. I’m just Joe Citizen, living in a great country.
If you want me to like you, I hope you can start by being more civil. Be respectful of people whose politics you don’t agree with or whose words have hurt you. Show that open mindedness is preferable to reflex partisanship. Erase “loser,” “garbage” and other name-calling from your vocabulary. Think of all of us Joe Citizens as your extended family. We don’t expect to be invited to Thanksgiving or Christmas at the White House, but look us in the eye and tell us the truth whenever possible.
If you want me to respect you, study and read the appropriate material before you speak on any serious subject. Shooting from the hip is for people who don’t know the importance of consequences. Refrain from thinking of world leaders as a battle of the superheroes or clash of the titans, but if you must, know that winning is not a zero-sum game. Don’t keep secrets that you wouldn’t abide in others. Refrain from rumors. To paraphrase a song of your generation and mine, love and tolerance are a temple, love and tolerance are the highest thing.
If you want me to have faith in your presidency, never do anything that I’d be ashamed of if I did it, because sooner or later the word gets out. Everything you’ve done in the past, I forgive you. Everything you do in the future, our lives depend on it. So do our children’s and grandchildren’s. Trust the judgment and wisdom of people around you who do their jobs well. That’s about it.
Michael R. French
Santa Fe, New Mexico
I hope readers of the novel can relate to [the characters'] struggles and impulsive judgments, even when we react by thinking, “no, please don’t do that!” Their lives twist and turn like ours, and realistically not everything ends up tied in ribbons. But life lessons are real.
I try to challenge myself as a novelist by communicating what I understand the world to be. I like reading other writers who storytell a different vision than mine, as their narrative is as unique to them as mine is to me. Everything is about a point of view, realized through three-dimensional characters embedded, hopefully, in a compelling and memorable plot.
In Once Upon a Lie, a story of the Eighties, my two principal characters seem as different as the Americas they live in—one in a white and privileged enclave in Los Angeles, the other a Texas town with walls to climb if you’re poor and black and have the ambition and talent to escape. Their paths cross and a relationship as complex as their differences begins to bloom. Jaleel and Alexandra (“Alex”) deal with societal problem as well as the personal ones they make for themselves. I hope readers of the novel can relate to their struggles and impulsive judgments, even when we react by thinking, “no, please don’t do that!” Their lives twist and turn like ours, and realistically not everything ends up tied in ribbons. But life lessons are real. Jaleel and Alex even have their own Facebook pages, their interweaving stories continuing in the present, picking up where the book leaves off.
Michael R. French
Michael French is a graduate of Stanford University and Northwestern University. He is a businessman and author who divides his time between Santa Barbara, California, and Santa Fe, New Mexico.