I tried to answer the reader’s guide questions about Big Fish, but couldn’t. Perhaps for the same reason that I continually found the “true meaning” of the book itself just beyond my grasp.

I thought it was a sad story. Edward wanted to be a great man, and William wanted to think of Edward as a great man. But Edward never really amounted to anything — I’m not even sure he was liked or if that was just part of his fantasy.

I think the book may not have spoken to me because my relationship with my own father was nothing like this. My dad was, in fact, a big fish in whatever context he found himself — family, friends, a room full of total strangers. I never resented this, but I don’t recall ever wishing he was something more than what he was. And his real life was eventful enough that I never needed to make up stories.

We could talk (although there was a stage during my teen years when I didn’t want to) and especially toward the end of his life could be very frank with each other. We had issues between us, plenty of them, but they were all resolved before he died. I’m not aware that he ever sought approval from me. Just the opposite — achieving the approval of my dad was my chief motivation during my growing-up years.

So I guess the book made me think about my relationship with my own father, so it was interesting from that perspective. But it didn’t grab me and rip me open like it was intended to do.