The Question World: Thoughts On Writing in the 21st Century

First thing on the path — I was running through the woods — worms writhing this mid-summer morning in a death dance after drowning all night long in a torrential, black rain. Bouncing and leaping into the air, up from their dark tunnels collapsing and spewing water everywhere, they were no doubt more afraid of drowning in that world of their own making than dying on the sunlit surface of this tiny green and blue planet with the rest of us.

I try to go down the trail silently. My dog senses this and prances methodically by my side, not even panting.

Thoughts come to me regarding the purpose of literature. It is said often that there are two schools of Continue reading