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INSPIRATION

Stories of 

& Healing 

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Mildred J Mills is the third of seventeen children born and raised on a sixty-acre farm in Wetumpka, Alabama, where she grew up picking cotton. She is a retired IT executive and holds a Bachelor of Arts and Master of Arts in creative writing/nonfiction. Her essay, “Daddy’s House,” won the 2022 Etruscan Prize and is published in The Etruscan Press. She authored “Amazing Grace,” an essay which was published in the anthology, A Journey into Art, in 2023. Daddy’s House: A Daughter’s Memoir of Setbacks, Triumphs & Rising Above Her Roots is her first book. Mildred lives in Atlanta, Georgia, with her husband and enjoys tennis and travel. Learn more about the author on her website


 

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In my memoir: "Daddy’s House: A Daughter’s Memoir of Setbacks, Triumphs & Rising Above Her Roots," which will be published in December, I share many stories over a sixty-five-year period. But, like with any editing process, some stories do not make the cut. In this week's episode, I share some of those stories. One of my favorites is about the tradition of Christmas and my continued belief that the best presents are ones given from the heart. If you want to give your loved ones a heartfelt present this year, purchase my memoir. I share stories for readers of all ages. Connect with me to be notified when my book is ready for pre-order.

The Birthing of Daddy’s House

by Mildred J Mills

 

 

Did you know that only 3% of people who start writing a book ever finish it, and only 0.6% go on to publish one? So, to celebrate being part of such an elite group, I am kicking off 2024, reflecting upon the path to publishing my book, Daddy’s House: A Daughter’s Memoir of Setbacks, Triumphs & Rising Above Her Roots. 

I will share how patience—even through rejection—factored into my thought process of publishing my book. I am excited to share that the Kindle version of Daddy’s House is now a #1 Bestseller & Hot New Release on Amazon. I can only say, “What a Difference A Year Makes.” 

 

At the beginning of 2023, I was sure a traditional book deal with a literary agent was in my future. A publisher had written a glowing review of my book, and almost everyone who read the story remarked that it was a page-turner they could not put down. I sent query letters to literary agents suggested by friends. But I continued researching alternative methods in case the traditional route did not pan out. And, boy, am I glad I did. 

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          One of the first responses I received from a literary agent was a sign of things to come. It was the sweetest rejection I have ever received. The woman who shall remain nameless said, “Mildred – I read and enjoyed every word of this, but the truth is I cannot find a way to succeed with it. In memoir, there is a tremendous need for platform. It’s a word I hate, but it’s very real in the commercial world of publishing. I just can’t come up with a hook that can take the place of platform. Sorry to disappoint but I thank you for a most impressive read. Wishing you the very best.” 

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I was learning that regardless of how moving or well-written your story, if the author is not “famous” or doesn’t have tens of thousands of social media followers, sadly, most agents and traditional publishers are unwilling to invest in you or your book. And, for most people, repeatedly hearing the word NO is that crushing blow that breaks the spirit or the fire that motivates. Rather than be discouraged, my new motto, “Never underestimate the power of rejection,” was born. I used that woman’s denial as a springboard to higher heights. 

I changed courses, took matters into my own hands. With months of research and recommendations from friends, I found a hybrid publisher—a cross between traditional and Self-Publishing—and negotiated a contract. The company provided heavy lifting like proofreading, typesetting, assistance with a book cover, and finding a distribution channel. 

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          I am so thrilled I went this route. Unlike with a traditional publisher, I retain the rights to my work and will receive substantial royalties for all book sales. Rather than taking up to two years to release my book, it took three months. I had spent time and money crafting and shaping my story, putting it in the best shape possible before hiring a copyeditor to polish and suggest final touches for the work.

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          So, as I sit here at the beginning of 2024, an Amazon number one bestselling author in several categories, I am humbled to have bested Caroline Kennedy and Paris Hilton in the fashion biographies and memoirs category for at least a few days. I sat in awe within twenty-four hours of its release as Daddy’s House topped the charts in Women’s inspirational spirituality, Black African American biographies & memoirs, and spiritual biography categories. You—my listeners and supporters—did that. 

 

I want to share words from a small publisher who did not accept my book due to budget constraints. But he was kind enough to analyze the work and provide a report, suggesting changes to ensure publication. His words were instrumental in moving me to not give up on publishing Daddy’s House.

 

This unnamed Source highlighted many of my strengths by stating, “Mildred’s writing is mostly excellent, with a strong poetry in her choice of words. While the first few pages have some rough spots (more on this below), Mildred’s language really carries the reader through the full manuscript. Sometimes her sentences are very effective in their economy (“So many porches, only two bedrooms”) but her command of language is varied so that word economy does not become a crutch; rather, it is just one of many tools in Mildred’s literary toolbox. (At the end of this “Strengths” section, I have listed some of my favorite sentences and turns of phrase.) 

 

          This memoir is filled with contradictions, most of them beautiful and effective. The primary contradiction is her love/hate relationship with her parents. The misery and conflict are obvious, but through careful writing, Mildred is able to simultaneously convey a deep love and respect. I’m still not sure how she does this. 

 

          The contradictions start early in the book. Soon after fantasizing about physically hurting her father, Mildred enjoys “a piggyback ride on my handsome daddy’s back.” How can she enjoy a piggyback ride from this brutal man? The answer is: because Mildred is a human, and this is the unpredictable way that our emotions can flow. In this sense, I found the radical honesty of this manuscript to be riveting. Another poignant contradiction comes when a racist white teacher gives Mildred a leg up and introduces her to the American Automation Technical School in Columbus, Ohio. 

 

          Mildred effectively portrays herself as relentlessly ambitious, and this becomes infectious to the reader. Mildred’s forward momentum starts in the Prologue and carries all the way to the end of the manuscript. This momentum is a key element of this story, and Mildred captures it in a profound and inspiring way. 

 

          While some of the manuscript’s most dramatic moments are beyond harrowing, Mildred also mixes in wry humor, which helps to bring just enough levity so that the reader doesn’t become too overwhelmed by the enormity of challenges she faces. (Some examples of wonderful clever sentences are listed below.) 

 

          I also like the pro-woman orientation of Mildred’s story, beginning when she is five and she sees two dogs having sexual intercourse and she is “happy the female was winning.” Though it sounds odd to say, this is the beginning of a subtheme of sisterhood that runs through the manuscript. (On the subject of intercourse, in one funny paragraph ruminating on the sex lives of farm animals, Mildred concludes with, “Even Mama and Daddy contributed to the labor force with a new baby almost every year.”) 

 

          By sharing the horrors she has faced, the path toward forgiveness feels both powerful and very real. When late in the manuscript Mildred finds her father weeping on his neardeathbed, I miraculously felt this sadness deeply, even though Abraham is an absolute tyrant for most of the story. 

 

          Indeed, very early in the manuscript we learn how violent Mildred’s impulses are toward her father. That violence is, of course, taught to her by her father. But it’s shocking to read about how a young girl wants to “gouge his eyes out with that hot poker” or “punch him in the stomach for playing us like that.” The force of these emotions really sets the stage meaningfully for the overall narrative arc of the story.”

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Here are some examples of sentences and turns of phrase that particularly moved me: 

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And here are some good examples of Mildred’s wry humor: 

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I’m straddled between the two people who gave me life, Daddy at the steering wheel and Mama on the porch. Yet, when I look from one to the other that night, it’s abundantly clear that I want freedom from both of them. 

 

Those last years at Daddy’s house, I would think, that is not my husband peering across the hot stove looking for a meal, and those aren’t my hungry children with the wet diapers that I rocked back to sleep at night. Did they call me because I never complained, meticulously performed tasks like a bionic servant? Of course, they did! They were no different than an abusive employer, husband, friend, or slavemaster who piled work on a willing spirit until she was ready to snap. But I would bide my time and bite my tongue, focused on one goal, get the hell out of Alabama and make my own way. 

 

I was a girl-in-training, studying the ways of deceitful and abusive men like Daddy. 

Daddy was a master at burying scars away from prying outsiders’ eyes, and he always drew blood. 

 

He held a vase, a delicate piece of glass that sparkled like stars. It encased a single rose as red as blood. He set it on the mantel, and she couldn’t stop smiling. The way Mama gazed at that fake rose told me everything I needed to know. I didn’t appreciate how they were smiling at each other. 

 

I needed to tattoo his behavior on my brain, a trigger to haul ass when confronted with eyes like his. 

 

With each blow, stars flashed before my eyes, my dress ripped, and ropes of whelps became part of my skin. Still, I stood like an oak tree against a storm. 

 

I slung my homemade dress across the bed, stripped off the girdle, and stepped out of those tight shoes. I flung my half-naked self across the bed and slept the sleep of a freed slave. 

 

I hung up the phone and fired up the hotplate. While the burner heated up, I could not help thinking how easy it would have been to become dependent on a welfare system encouraged by a woman who meant well. I tore her contact information from my address book, stuck it against the red-hot burner, and watched blue flames erase her on a wave of gray smoke as I reminisced about my new job. 

 

I swallowed the evidence, buried my secret, refused to be raped again in the court of public opinion and even in my own memory. 

 

I grabbed his hand, no longer the rough, calloused hand of a working man. Not a hand capable of beating welts across the back of his eighteen-year-old daughter in a prom dress because she came home a few minutes late. It was the soft, warm hand of a man near death. I stood stoic and held back tears as we both said, Amen. As he wept, I tried not to.

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“I ain’t gonna let you grow up like you was hatched by the buzzards and raised by the snakes.” I still don’t know what that meant, but it sounded awful. 

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I woke up on Saturday mornings and fired up the stereo so loud the walls pulsated. I spun through the place like a genie on steroids, dusting and mopping until everything sparkled, moving farther away from the welfare man. 

I found no humor in rejection as I sought to publish my book. Or when the literary agent said, “Platform means an author already has a public aware of her. That’s why best-selling memoirs are by actors & famous people. Companies just don't like to take risks anymore. They want to know that they will be able to sell forty to fifty thousand copies right out the door, which is very hard to do.”

 

That publisher's strong endorsement of my story gave me the courage to tell that lady, “I would prefer not to shell out the cash to publish my book, but I believe in my story, and I will tell it.” I have not sold 40-50 thousand copies of Daddy House, but I thank my readers for believing in my story and making it an Amazon #1 bestseller.

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