surprise korean not without my father

What’s the biggest surprise I’ve had in 2018?

Not Dad’s almost dying. Or the reactivation of my eye disease. Or canceling an appearance because the group didn’t promote it.

Nope. Those are all BAD SURPRISES.


Remember when I posted about selling Korean rights to Not Without My Father? Ages and AGES ago (read: almost three years ago), Word Hermit Press sold worldwide Korean language rights to a traditional publisher in Korea. I signed the deal, got my money, and never heard another thing about it.

Until about six months ago.

My agent reached out to ask permission to make a few minor changes to the book. How could I refuse? I mean, they could change EVERYTHING about the book and I wouldn’t know the difference. Follow THIS LINK to see what I mean.

Seriously, you want to click the link.

Did you click the link?

Because if you don’t click the link, you won’t know what it means. Hell, I’m still not sure what it means because the whole thing is in Korean. But I know one thing……..


Dad’s picture is all over Korean websites! Reviews are glowing, all four-and-five stars.

The Korean version was published in November, but neither agent nor publisher told my publisher or me. I found it because I GOT FAN MAIL. FROM A KOREAN READER.

It took both MTM and me googling for almost an hour to find the link above, SO PLEASE CLICK THE LINK.


I am officially an INTERNATIONALLY PUBLISHED AUTHOR!!!!!! I make less-than-no-money, so we authors must crow and crow and crow about these accomplishments. They’re a form of validation for our toil.

Make someone in your life feel less dysfunctional. Give them Not Without My Father. CLICK HERE TO BUY.

For those of you who didn’t know it, MTM once lived in a little town called Chicago, Illinois. For six years, he ran his own architecture practice. He competed in worldwide architecture competitions, resulting in skyscrapers in Korea that he’s never seen. He was even a finalist in the Oklahoma City Memorial Competition and ended up on CNN.

Last weekend, he took me past a visible remnant of himself by showing me something he designed. On the front of a building in downtown Chicago, an entryway blared out MTM’s signature sensibilities, his clean lines and minimalist style. It was a piece of him that I could reach out and touch, from a time when I didn’t know him.

As we shivered our way around the city, I would catch our reflection, walking side-by-side in a random window glass. And, I wondered: did he ever walk this way and glimpse me? The two of us, together? When he ate fish and chips at his favorite pub, did a girl turn her head and conjure my image in her wake? Give him some clue of who he was seeking before he found me? Before he said hello?

I’ve studied photos of MTM from that time, scanning his younger face for the certainty of me. My favorite one of him from that era wasn’t taken in Chicago, though. It was shot in Japan. He is sitting alone in front of a glassy pond, broken by circular stepping stones, cherry blossoms dropping around him like pink-and-white confetti.

Somehow, I know I was there, too.

I just know it.

Too Much is Just Enough: Seeing the signs and knowing they are true.