Author Picture

Clifford Roberts

I started writing in the Army, submitting poems and short stories to Reader's Digest and other magazines. I later attended Farmingdale University, Bluefield State College, and USI Computer School. Shortly, I joined Newsday as a manager. I later became a Real Estate Investor and home restoration specialist. I now write full time and play piano for R&R.

I love to talk...sensibly that is. I love to dance. I love to joke. I love to learn. Crossword puzzles cross me up. Frustration frustrates me. I like spending time by myself. I love pepper. I love making New Year's resolutions. I love bringing Halloween to bright-eyed kids. My ideal job would be writing a thriller screen play. Popeye is my favorite kids' book. I can appreciate witty people. Whiners can take a powder. I like people who talk a lot. I have better friends than I deserve. Liking my life is a pick me up. In fact, if there's such a thing as reincarnation, I'm coming back as God ... only visible. I'm happy to be a writer. It's my main passion and my bread and butter. I write for my dad. Anyone can read my books, but my target audience is peoples who cannot read nor write, because my father could not read nor write...just with an X mark. After each book I publish, I kiss the book, then hold it up and say aloud, "Here's another one for you 'Pop,' another one for you." Mostly I write fiction, but I also have a few non-fiction titles. My first book "Run Lee Run," was published in 2000 which is based on my father's harsh life. I now have 12 published titles and another coming out in the fall. I once lived in a shack. My father nailed the front door at night, the only door, to keep us safe from harm. To go the bathroom, I had to use an outhouse which stunk like HELL in summer time. In my room I could see the snowy trees through the holes in the walls. I studied by an oil lamp. Bed sheets separated the rooms in the shack. The place was heated by a black cast iron stove. When I breathed, I could see a white mist. Every day at lunch time, while the kids ate their school lunch, I ate a peanut and butter sandwich until my father was killed by his best friend for protecting a female next door neighbor, then the principal gave me free lunch which made me ashamed each time I went to the cashier. I had to say my name. I would say it softly to keep my friends from finding out how poor I was. I went out for sports so I could shower each school day. I even picked potatoes to help my father and mother with food and bills. I was so poor, I had patches on my school clothes. Until I went to the Salvation Army and bought a lot of suits and altered them and wore them to school. I had the kids fooled. They thought I was wearing new clothes. That made me so proud that I had to laugh. Later in life, I took to drinking heavily which dominated most of my life until my friends started dropping dead from over-drinking. I just flat out quit smoking and drinking. I say all this because, like my father, there is no shame in my game.