Letter to Taki Theodoracopulos

Open letter from Robert McNally to Taki Theodoracopulos
“Love to send you my memoirs”

16 December 2014,

Hello Taki Theodoracopulos,

I read your piece Dazzling and Dangerous. It was great. More than a few things caught my eye, especially the reason you don't read novels anymore.
Unlike most novelists today, I didn't have writing lessons or much of an education. A writer friend said I had something better. The narrative voice. Reviewers of my memoir, I Had Jelly on My Nose and A Hole in My Breeches , said I was a gifted author with the ability to make the reader fall into his childhood so naturally and well that you find yourself feeling as though you're right there with him. According to the reviews the book has sweet honesty, gentle humor and no embellishing truths. It makes for a lovely slice o'life, feel good, easy read.
The first nine reviews each gave my book five stars on Amazon. When I gave the e-book away free, I was number one but I rarely have a sale. Reason, I guess: No exposure.
I would love for you to read my memoirs. No narcissist am I . I'm not interested in money and fame. If that ever happens, it's okay. What I woud like is for everyone to enjoy my stories.
If you would like to read something totally different, please let me know where I can send it.
In the meantime, I will leave you with a Christmas story from 1938 when I was five.

Christmas 1938 was a great one. Our tree was set beside our piano from which we could see the fireplace in the adjoining room. The Grandfather Clock was in the nearby hallway. All these features blended together to make for a beautiful Christmas. The most astonishing thing of all was the gift I received. It was the surprise of surprises and my greatest present ever. Of that I’m certain. Charlie McCarthy. A replica of famous ventriloquist Edgar Bergen’s dummy. I did not call Charlie a dummy, but a doll. In the movies he appeared smarter than I did, and certainly more intelligent than Bergen. I took great care of Charlie’s silk hat, monocle, tuxedo, patent leather shoes, white satin shirt and black bow tie. My Charlie looked so authentic that I came close to thinking Mr. Bergen sent his to me. Charlie had a string at the back of his neck that when pulled would open his mouth, which enabled me to talk twice as much as before. I played with him during all of the holiday season and for a long time afterward. For a while he was my best friend. With this great gift came a book by Edgar Bergen on how to be a ventriloquist. I did my best.
The year opened with the death of Granddad, and it closed at the time I received Charlie. It was often that he and I sat on the couch together. We had long conversations, and it’s funny when I think of it, we always agreed.
Merry Christmas,
Bob McNally

Author: Robert McNally