My new novel, Sanctuary, is now officially on sale through Amazon, and as I think about its journey to publication, I'm struck how life always seems to imitate art, even though we don't orchestrate the pairing. In my novel, the heroine, Sonny Blake, is living a quiet life, doing good and helping others. As she goes about her day, she's unaware a madman is nearby, bent on destroying her and those she loves. Lately, it seems in towns across America, madmen (young and old), are doing the same
While writing the novel, I never gave a thought that when it was completed, it would mirror the happenings of the day so strongly. After all, it's a fictional piece of writing meant to entertain a reader for a few hours. Now, having a chance to step back and look at the novel objectively, I think all pieces of writing must be orchestrated by spirit--a divine connection between it and the human existence.
To its credit, spirit can't be broken or killed, no matter how many madmen pick up a gun and use it to destroy lives. Oh, it may go underground for awhile, but I know that spirit's always there, day in and day out. And it has a way, when least expected, of slipping important themes and issues into a writer's subconscious so that when we sit down at the computer to write, snippets of those important issues emerge as life imitating art. And the glory of it is, that the person reading those words GETS the connection (deep in their soul) and is changed by them. Or at least I hope that's what happens. No, I PRAY that's what happens.
So, from my soul to yours, let's get madmen help before they have a chance to destroy innocent lives. Like the marine motto, let's not leave one of our brothers behind. Let's reach down and give them a helping hand up. After all, there's plenty of room on the ladder, don't you think?
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