Why I quit
I owe the readers of this site an explanation for not having posted new installments lately. This was not due to a lack of material, to accident, sickness, old age, or any other personal misfortune. Instead, after several months of posting good material, the following realities dawned on me:
1) I came late to this game. While I have no idea how many people post on Substack, the number must be huge, which means very few will float to the top to find it a rewarding activity. Sure, it’s nice to get reader compliments, but with hardly any paying subscribers, what’s the point?
2) It seems possible that by this time, interest in WWII has waned. After all, very few of those who lived through it are still with us.
3) It is obvious that on sites like Substack, people who already enjoy national name recognition as writers have a considerable advantage. I’m not one of those.
4) All these things being the case, I’ve lost interest in continuing to post here, or on any other site like this.
5) That doesn’t mean I have no more material that I could publish. I still have a lot, but instead of posting it I’d rather do another print run of one of my books, which will be financially more rewarding, and less work.
6) In the meantime, I thank all of my readers for their time.
I am the daughter of parents that lived during WW2 in Rotterdam, Holland.
I have so many many many stories, probably a lot like yours.
Mom and dad met after the war and married in 1947. In 48 they came to the US, New Jersey and dad had a job with some big accounting company I can not recall right now, but I have all of his paperwork, everything,. I think the name started with B
I have a diary of my father, that he wrote pretty much after he came home from being a POW in North Germany. The writing is pretty tiny and the dutch is just too difficult for me to read.
When my parents came to US they did not want to speak Dutch anymore because they wanted to be Americans, so we did speak dutch at home until my oldest sister insisted that they stop. I was too young to complain, but I liked it.
Anyway, long long stories, I am sure you have plenty.
My parents lived to 96, mom, Heaven: 2016, 99.5 Daddy, Heaven 2023.
I cared for them in their last 10 years - I moved them from their comfy retirement home in Annapolis MD after mom had a stroke. I moved them to Virginia, Ashburn at a fancy expensive place called Ashby Ponds, just two miles from my house and spent every single day with them, a lot of difficult work but I made every effort to make it easy.
I am shocked to say I am 70.... almost 71 (wow time flies)
Anyway, blah blah blah.
I need to pull out dad's diary and find a translator.
I am really glad I found you. There are so very few left. Uncle Jan Straaijer went to Heaven this past October at a week before 100 years old, He lived in Aalten.
I agree with you. I am reaching the same point(s) and same to similar conclusions. Someone or others may be getting rich OR paid but not I.
Best of luck to you. Keep the door ajar as I may be slipping thru right behind you. There are without question better and more rewarding things to do.
WS
(Bill)