Michael DeMocker wrote his first book at the age of six, a self-published, self-illustrated, self-stapled treatise on bathtubs cleverly titled "The Bathtub Book." The work was well-received by most members of his immediate family, including his mom who in her review declared "the drawing of the rubber duck is really good!" (Author's note: It was a tugboat, but whatever.) The author's older sister, however, declared the book to be "derivative of my previously self-published book on horses." Discouraged, the author put down his pencil for many years, became a star athlete, scuba diver, chemical salesman, bouncer, bartender, forest ranger, then to his surprise a husband. After his new wife told him to get a real job, he grudgingly became a totally famous photojournalist in New Orleans, traveling the world, winning lots of prizes, and meeting famous people who commented that he was in their way. Yet, for all his success, somewhere wandering aimlessly in the back of his mind was that six-year-old author, clutching a worn and ragged book on bathtubs, yearning to be set free. So one day Michael started writing a bunch of books which you can buy if you want. Epilogue: His older sister Mary, the derivative horse author, also became a writer who sells more books than Michael, although he remains younger and taller. So there.
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