Good afternoon! As I write this post, autumn is in mid-swing and the world outside my window seems locked in a battle between summer and winter. Two days ago the temperature was in the seventies and I was wearing short sleeves; today it’s a winter coat and hat and the sky overhead is threatening rain. Such is life on the southern plains!
You’re probably asking, “What does that have to do with death?” And I get it. A lot of the stories that I write deal with the topic of death. It’s a subject that we as a culture, here in the United States, don’t much like to poke around at. We tend to ignore it and pretend that it doesn’t exist, until we’re confronted with it. And then we’re lost.
I like to think of death as a beginning rather than an ending, and my stories reflect that. Just as the seasons are cyclical, I write stories in which the stages of being are also cyclical, and whether the backdrop is Science Fiction or Fantasy, the stories are about us as human beings and the things that we experience, grapple with, and wonder about.
I do not glorify death, and the word doesn’t always mean the death of a physical body – it can also refer to the end of a phase of life, the end of a job or career, the end of a habit (be it a good one or a bad one), the end of a relationship, or any other number of endings.
In essence, I believe that death provides us with an opportunity to expand and to grow in ways that, without it, we would not even be able to imagine. Yes, there is sorrow and loss, but there is also hope, and that is the main message that I try to convey in my writing. Hope is what keeps us all plodding along this path filled with wondrous experiences, and hope is what we give to each other as we travel this well-worn course.