One late afternoon in my Florida childhood, another lightning storm rolled in. A wall of rain moved steadily over the lake towards our house. I love the change in the air and the smell.
The lightning flashed and flashed and flashed. I knew to go inside, but the terrifying and amazing light fascinated me. I stood on the stretch of grass between the lake and the road. A net of lightning cast above. The lightning looked nothing like a drawing of a zigzag line. It criss-crossed in different directions, many bright, jagged lines.
For a few moments, I thought the world was encased in lightning. I ran to the house, frightened and impressed. Obviously the image stayed with me.
The connectedness of all things mesmerizes. How amazing to see how life interconnects. We and everything are made of star stuff, as Carl Sagan said, and we are all connected. We connect like threads in a net.
In school the lesson about the food chain meant a lot to me. Take out a link in the chain, disruption, trouble, follows. I thought of it like fabric. If you snag and pull loose one thread, the fabric crinkles and puckers. So often we seem to act as if parts of the world exist in isolation. But we are threads of star stuff in the fabric of the universe.
I see my stories like that. I like to write stories that connect, that weave together.
I have several manuscripts of stories that take place in Lake Belle, my fictional Florida town. The stories aren’t necessarily related, but places and charters connect.
In another story I’m working on, The Fairy Tale Asylum, all the patients have a story. And in the story I began for this year’s NaNoWriMo, The Book of Astrophilia, there are many connected stories. I imagine an overarching story with many side stories, like a tree with many branches.
My characters are connected. We are connected, threads of star stuff in the fabric of the world.
Thank you for reading.
Prints at Society6.
Cards of my work on Zazzle.
Original art and ornaments on my website.