Novelist Tim O’Brien Reflects on His Life, Career and Family

TIM O’BRIEN, AMERICAN NOVELIST: And so to leave behind messages to my children in the form of a book, talking about my own life, my own dad, Vietnam, and my life as a writer, I thought they’d get to know me in a way they may not otherwise without leaving those scraps of paper behind.

CHRISTIANE AMANPOUR: It’s a really — it’s a wonderful idea. And I want you to read a little bit. I think we have asked you to read a little bit of a paragraph that you wrote for your son when he was I think just 1 years old.

O’BRIEN: Yes, he was 1-year-old, maybe even 9 months, a letter to my son Timmy. “It’s hard to accept as I watch you now, so lighthearted and purely good, so ignorant of gravestones. But, Timmy, you are in for a world of hurt and heartache and sin and doubt and frustration and despair, which is to say, you are in for being human. You will do fine things, I know. But you will also do bad things, because you are wholly human. And I wish I could be with you always to offer forgiveness.” Now, that’s how I feel about my sons. I wish I could be there forever. A father’s chief duty is to be present, not to discipline, not to instruct, but to be there. And the odds are that, in 20 years or so, I won’t be. Yet I hope the kids hear the sound of my voice smiling at them.

AMANPOUR: In 20 years, if I’m not mistaken, Timmy, who’s 18 now, will be 38. And I wonder what he makes of that letter that you wrote to him. How does he process that today, because you — as we said, you wrote it when he was 1 year old?

O’BRIEN: Well, to be honest, I don’t know what Timmy makes of that letter. He is sitting near me right now, kind of smiling at me. I think he’s glad I wrote to him. And I think he appreciates the smile in my voice as I write and as I read just now. I don’t find it at all morbid or grim. I find it delightful to be able to talk to my children on paper and even now to read aloud to you.