So I have come to a conclusion. Or maybe an epiphany. Or maybe a realization. I don’t know. One of those things for sure. I write about one thing. Over and over again. Different characters. Different angles. But always at the heart the same.
People faced with the moments in life when you have to make a choice. Like a tree branch deciding to grow one way or the other. They can be small moments. Or big moments. But there is always a choice to be made.
I believe that the only thing we take with us to the other side is our choices. Because our choices inform the people we become, our experience of this life, everything. They are us. Our choices. The only thing we have any control over at all.
This life is filled with things we have no control over. And for me that can be unbearable at times. When I see the suffering of this planet, humanities pain, injustice— it hurts. And I get so angry because of the feelings of hopelessness that can come along with that pain. The emotion that I wish I could never feel again is frustration. But it is probably the one that has taught me the most. Because in my frustration I have realized the power of choice.
So if you’re reading some of my fiction, look for the choice. It will tell you the meat of the story. Hopefully. But again don’t. That’s a choice too.