Some of my best friends are women. My mother is a woman. So is my wife. And my daughter. Probably half my fans (maybe more) are females. And so are a lot of fine writers, aspiring writers, editors, and so on.
When I wrote “he,” I wasn’t ignoring you people.
I meant
To my way of thinking, “he” always refers in general to any human, male or female or any combination thereof, unless I’m writing about a specific male.
Whenever you see “he,” just let on that I really wrote “he or she” and that the “or she”
part is invisible.
It’s there. You just can’t see it.
It’s there, waiting to pounce.
Introduction
This self-styled “autobiographical chronology” is intended to give readers some of the basics about my life and some very detailed information about my career. Wanting it to be more than just an exercise in vanity, I have provided the sort of information that will give everyone a vivid, in-depth portrait of this writer’s struggles, disasters, and successes.
Though it is
General readers may find it to be a unique behind-the-scenes look at what
It might be seen by my fellow professional writers as a travelogue of pretty much the same journey they’re taking themselves. Though none of us follows exactly the same route, we’re mostly roaming similar territory, running into similar adventures and mishaps.
Aspiring writers are certain to find it instructive, sometimes terrifying, and possibly I hope inspiring. Because it is the story of an average guy who wanted to be a writer, overcame plenty of obstacles, and managed to succeed beyond the wildest hopes of the kid who first sat down and tried to write a story.
This is not intended to be the complete story of my life.
It is a sketch, not a portrait. Plenty is missing. I only included information that I figured might be instructive or entertaining.
I based the earlier years of this chronology on my memories and on assorted documents.
Starting in 1979, however, the information is based on calendars kept by myself, Ann and Kelly.
The ladies have been keeping track of our individual and family activities on the kitchen calendars. From those calendars, I was able to find information on book signings, our trips, our social engagements, etc.
On my office calendars, I have been keeping track of my career. They provided very detailed information about how many pages I wrote each day on what story. And when I mailed a manuscript. And when it was accepted or rejected. I pretty much noted everything about my career that seemed significant.
Unfortunately, Ann and I have failed to locate my office calendars for two years, 1980 and 1985. We were able to fill in the gaps to some extent, but some interesting material is missing. Maybe those two calendars will turn up some day. If so, and if there are future editions of this work…Who knows?
In the meantime, here is more than you ever really wanted to know about Richard Carl Laymon.
I was born in Chicago, Illinois on January 14, the second son of Hugh Kelly Laymon and Wanda Kathleen Hall Laymon. My older brother, Robert Kelly Laymon, had been born on March
We are Americans without hyphens. My great aunt, Emma Laymon, was a member of the Daughters of the American Revolution, so at least one of my ancestors was here in the days of the founding fathers.
My great grandfather, Joseph Laymon, grew up in Illinois. During the Civil War, he fought for the Union with Company B, 6th Regiment of the Indiana Cavalry Volunteers.
He was captured and survived incarceration at the infamous Confederate P.O.W. camp, Andersonville. His son, my grandfather, Hugh Kelly Laymon (along with Aunt Emma) grew up in a sod hut on the plains of Nebraska. My grandfather later lived in Charleston, Illinois where he drove a locomotive for the Nickle Plate Road. My other grandfather, Carl Hall, ran a moving company in Charleston, Carl Hall Transfer. Carl Hall Transfer is still in business in Charleston.
My father served in the Army Air Corp during World War Two, and “flew the Hump” with the Air Transport Command. He was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross.
I spent a few early years living in a duplex in Skokie, Illinois. Then we moved into a duplex in Lincolnwood. My great aunt, Emma, lived on the other side of the duplex with her cousin, Daisy Bliss (a member of the Women’s Temperance Union). My father worked for Henry Regnery, a Chicago publisher, during the early years of the company.
(Now run by Alfred Regnery, the firm courageously publishes many important, controversial books.) My mother was a housewife who stayed home and took care of my brother and me chauffeur, cookie maker, den mother. She introduced me to the joys of literature, reading