Today we’d like to introduce you to Duane L Herrmann

Duane L, we appreciate you taking the time to share your story with us today. Where does your story begin?

When I was a very little boy, not yet two (because my siblings were not yet born), my mother would send me away from her so she could read the newspaper. I knew that printed words were “stories,” so I concluded that the stories were more important to her than I was. And, if I wrote stories too, I would then be important to her too. This goal became complicated because I could not learn to read. No one then knew about dyslexia or ADHD. I didn’t know until my son was diagnosed. But I did get special tutoring after second grade, where I learned phonics, and I learned to read. I had to walk a mile down an empty gravel country road to and from the retired teacher’s home for these lessons.
Even when I could finally read, I could not write stories because my mother put me to doing work for her. This started when I was two and a half when it became my job to give my baby sister her bottle. That was difficult, but I figured out how to do it without getting stiff. My next task was impossible, but I managed to do that too. She insisted I fasten her bra. I could not reach the straps nor see the hooks, but that didn’t matter. She demanded I comply – and I did. That stayed my job until I left home for college.
Along the way, I was also expected to do the family laundry (with a wringer washing machine and three rinse tubs), cook entire meals (if she decided on chicken, I had to begin by cutting up the semi-thawed whole chicken), vegetables and three kinds of gravy (all from scratch), give my two little brothers their baths, find and clean their shoes on Sunday Mornings, sweep, mop and wax the vinyl floors, and iron my own shirts. The summer I was 13, after managing the house, and garden and chickens, cwhile our mother was gone to a summer school session, I was put on a tractor to farm with my father.
School was where I could rest and relax. No one screamed at me there. The other kids picked on me, but that was minor.
I had begun making stories in my head when I was two or three and had a dream about bug characters in a comic book I had been looking at before I fell asleep. I wanted the dream to continue – so I continued it. I told myself a continuing story every night as I lay in bed before falling asleep. I was in the fifth grade before I was able to write down my first story – during recess at school. I think still have it in a box somewhere. In the eighth grade I was able to write my second story. I gave it to my teacher – and he never gave it back. In high school I wrote my first poems and showed them to an English teacher of mine. She was so impressed, she gave them a high grade and considered them extra credit. My senior year, a literary anthology was produced – and two of my poems were included. When I was in college, more were published.
Marriage, family, and jobs took up much of my time in the next decades, but I managed to write a little bit, and a few things were published. I hesitantly attended a meeting of writers that I learned about. I took my little list of half a dozen publications and showed it to a kind lady there. She said two things that changed my life: “Not everyone here has a list like that,” (that shocked me), and “That list didn’t happen by itself. You did the work to make it happen.” That vote of confidence empowered me and I have continued.
In 2023 over 100 of my poems were published in various journals, eight short stories, three book reviews, one essay and one interview. And, one small volume of poetry. And, work of mine posted online has been seen (maybeeven read) by people all over the globe! I’m amazed!!
2024 has been about the same except more short stories, a volume of poetry and one of short stories were published. An anthology with three poems of mine has received a national award, a short story has been nominated for Best of the Net, and a poem has been nominated for a Pushcart.
Not bad for a farm boy who couldn’t learn to read – and still can’t spel.

I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?

I have dyslexia, ADHA, cyclothymia, an anxiety disorder, PTSD, and a form of mutism. I had no self-esteem or confidence due to my abusive mother. Standing up for myself was my greatest crime. I still find that difficult. Money has always been tight.

As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?

I’ve written more poetry than anything else and now have nine collections published with enough more poems published individually for several more. Poems are short and fit my limited attention span. The subjects of my poems range all over the place, even to outer space, our solar system and beyond. A major focus, though, is the prairie where I live. I am the fifth generation here and I think the prairie influence has soaked into my DNA, or maybe it’s the Native blood in me.
The next major genre I’ve written is history, mostly history of the Baha’i Faith in Kansas and Baha’i Houses of Worship which are unique and distinctive from any other religious strucutres. Kansas is the second location in the West to have a Baha’i community. That in itself is improbable, so I’ve been digging into ‘why?’ My local Baha’i history book received a state-wide award several years ago and a major article appeared two years ago. I have a reputation, among Kansas college and university teachers of history, of being the expert on this history.
Fiction is my next genre. I’ve recently had a lot of short stories published. I gathered some of them into two collections with enough individually published now for a third, and maybe part of a fourth.
I also have a sci fi novel published. It is based on the very real possiblity of enough ice on Earth melting so the sea levels rise a dozen feet or more. This causes global chaos. The disaster is so great that, when a wormhole is discovered going to another Earth-like planet, people flee in droves. There is danger though. The wormhold is unstable, so you may, or may not, get through, and though Earth-like, the planet posses difficulties, one being the lack of trees. How do you build all-weather structures, and furniture, without wood? Plus there are plants and animals that can kill. Against this backdrop, the novel explores the possiblity that religion (a specific one) need not be the cause of division and hate, but can be a motivation for cooperation and advancement.
And, I’ve written stories for children, most of which have appeared in anthologies.
Groups of my poems have been set to music – a great surprise to me.
An anthology in which I have three poems, just received a national award, and a poem and short story of mine have also just been nominated for national awards. This amazes me!
I’m most proud of the fact that, despite my disabilities, I am able to string words into sentences that others find interesting to read. How is that possible???
My lack of any academic, intellectual, or literary background may set me apart from others. I only know that I’ve always worked alone and my family doesn’t know what to do with me. I’m not a farmer. I’m not a mechanic. I don’t work in a factory. What am I??? They don’t know.

We love surprises, fun facts and unexpected stories. Is there something you can share that might surprise us?

Unless they read otherwise, most people have no clue that I was first suicidal when I was two years old. I spent the next nine years trying to learn how to do it, and eventually acquired some standards and expectations: no more pain, no mess (if I failed I was sure I’d have to clean it up), and a process that would guarentee my end. No method met that criteria.
After I had moved two hundred miles from home to attend college, I began reading about dysfunctional familes. In one book I read that if a child knows he/she is loved by at least one person, that knowledge will save their life. Instantly, I knew how I could have made my own private gas chamber, at home, and been out of here.
My brain had blocked that knowledge.
So, I’m still alive. I’ve wished for suicide several times since then, but the only action I’ve taken (and this was the most recent time) I wrote a short story in which I killed myself. Someone read that and reached out, surprising me. I didn’t know anyone cared that much (other than my children).

Contact Info:

• Website: https://dlherrmann.wixsite.com/home
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/duane.herrmann

Image Credits

My portrain photo by Kevin Rabas, used with his permission. I took all the other photos.