My book

Following are the first few paragraphs of the introduction of a book that I am trying to write about my grandfather.  Whether or not the book comes to fruition I do not know.  But I do know that the most important thing to do is start.

Introduction: 

Morning broke over the calm still lake.  Only a few ripples blemished the surface occasionally, caused by a small fish breaching the surface to feel the warmth of the sun as it sparkled over the clear pure water.  The geese that had settled near the shoreline for the night were just starting to stretch their necks.  Between the river and the lake, off in the distance, was a small cabin.  The smell of wood burning in the fireplace filled the air.  That particular morning, the cabin was bustling with activity.  A short, stocky man, an old dented metal bucket in hand, with purposeful stride, was hurrying to the lake to gather water.  After filling the bucket, he turned and, again with a purposeful and hurried stride, made his way back to the cabin, water sloshing out of the bucket with every step that he took.  As the man opened the door and rushed in, just for a split second, one could hear the faint whimper of a newly born baby. 

So began the life story of Charles Filmore Martin.  A life by many standards that was normal, routine, and unremarkable.  You will not read of Charlie in any history book.  He was not wealthy.  He was not a public figure.  He was not an educated man.  But, he left a legacy that was anything but normal, anything but ordinary.  Charlie’s life was not an easy life, or, by some accounts, a happy life.  Rather, his life was a useful life, an honorable life, and a compassionate life.  By living his life on purpose, by focusing more on contribution than accumulation, he changed the life of his family, his family’s family, his church, his community,  and generations to come.  This is the life story of Charles Filmore Martin.   A simple life.  A good life.

Let me know your thoughts.  And yes, I can take constructive criticism.