![]() ![]() Death is a notch on my toolbelt, one held together by my thoughts and my beliefs. That term has more of a horror movie look and feel to it, but it does have a place under the literary umbrella. ![]() Notice I didn't say everyone else is expendable. ![]() Everyone else in their world exists to add an element of depth or richness or they're there to create conflict, stir up some shit, right? It's really that simple. Yes, I decide what happens, to some extent, but sometimes that's not even true. I could give you a laundry list of reasons why they died, but at the very top would be the most important reason, the deep-rooted belief I didn't know I had, which was unearthed by this observation. In Lonely Moon, it was Hane's wife and child. ![]() My main characters deal with a great deal of death, and usually it's someone very close to them. This person asked me about death, specifically its role within my works. But, as I look inward, digging around in my head and tossing aside junk and useless crap, I'm finding something not new, but old, something in the back of my head that I didn't know about, but has always been there. And although it may seem very on purpose, I can assure you it has never been, at least consciously. Someone pointed out to me, very recently, a rather astounding yet inherent trait in my stories that I hadn't noticed before myself. ![]()
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