Here's a blog post in Stephen Elliott's blog, about his recent experience with his father. Stephen appears to be a quite successful author whose father has abused him throughout his growing up, and continues to try and do so. Here's the post in its entirety as Stephen says he'll remove his post. Should he remove it and desire me to remove this pasted version, I will do so instantly:

Sunday, February 20, 2005 //link

News of the weird

Here's something weird. My father, who was an awful and abusive father, is leaving bad reviews of my books on Amazon.com. The most recent one being for Happy Baby, posted under the name Blum732, blum being his last name before he changed it and 732 being the last three digits of his email address. If there's a lesson here I guess it's that abusive parents don't stop being abusive just because they get older. Abusive relationships are psychological in nature and if you know an abuser, someone who lashes out and can't control their emotions, get away from that person. Cut the cord and never look back.

Continuing on this weird, personal topic. On the same day I see my father's post on Amazon I receive my records from Illinois Department of Children and Family Services. There's some fascinating stuff in there. A great story told by a social worker to illustrate my relationship with my father. I was locked in a mental hospital at the time after my sixth suicide attempt and I had been wearing the same clothes for a couple of months. All I had was the jeans and t-shirt I was arrested in. I was fourteen. In the records it says that my father agreed to go and pick up clothes I had left at friends houses. He then decided he would do that only if I would take them from his hand. I, of course, said no, as the reason I had slit my wrists was because he had found me sleeping in his old house, beat me up, and shaved my head, and I was upset about that. I didn't want to see him. He then decided he wouldn't pick up the clothes after all. Two pages later, in a separate psychological assessment, the psychologist writes that I am depressed and evidences this with my shoddy appearance, noting that my clothes are dirty and torn.

"You see," I said, reading through these records in a bar with a friend of mine. "That's why I write the stuff I do." We had a good laugh. It was funny, and tragic, in a way.

UPDATE - The Amazon review has been removed and so I guess I'll take down this post shortly. The basics of the review was one star with the headline Awful. It went on to say that Happy Baby was disgusting because the narrator was sympathetic to the person who molested him. Also that the author (me) is a fake and that I abused my mother who died twenty years ago when I was thirteen.

Boing Boing has posted an example of a review by mentioned, mad father:

The book has scenes like the one where he kisses the hand of the man who abused him. Most normal people will find this nauseating. The book is for wanna-be masochists who enjoy perversion, and people with strong stomachs. Perhaps that's who the author sees as his audience? The book has little plot, and seems like one vaguely descriptive scene after another. The reader is left with a bad taste in his or her mouth. I hear the author's father is preparing a website to show that his background is totally fabricated. That will be an interesting blog.