Upon the closing of eyes, visualization comes easier. One future day, amid the endless rubble of a post-apocalyptic city, near a former library, an excited literati will occasion on the works popular and obscure writers of the 20th and 21st Centuries. The literati will engage in a self-gratifying game whereby the relative merit of relationship fiction and suspense/mystery fare are discoursed.
The analysis will consist of form and literary criticism of style and story presentation. In most cases, the examiner will conclude that all genre, in substance, and on the stripping away of author crapola, are merely escapist. They are more similar than distinct. Nothing more -- nothing less.
Maybe I will included in the group the biblio-archeologist puts under the spyglass. Confined to the present space and time continuum, I can only speculate. It could happen. It should, if I play this right. Talent is simply a hand God deals -- with it comes responsibility to maximize and edify with the gift. Thus, since I believe that, conjecture should birth fact.
I am a novelist. As such my intent is to fashion scenes of realistic intrigue and premise. Mine is also a search for dialogue never before unspoken. Of course, it must meld seamlessly into the scenario. A smooth waltz of words partnered with supposed life situations. Neither of these are easy to achieve for efficient word-craftsmen have existed before me and will appear long after I am gone. However, I do not find my task to be anything but a sweet challenge.
This being said, my sincerest prayer is that my stories will resonate by impinging the reader and entice their imagination. They will know that they have experienced something completely different amid wonderful as they dive into what I have set to paper. To be certain, the reader will see a ring of similarity in almost everything I write because each protagonist, be they the brainy, erudite Perry Richards, or his enthralling wife, Felicia, or the sexually energetic Marvin Tanner, or the formidable Miriam Kincade, are simply pawns. They are spokes in a game where events spiral and spin out of control. Hell unleashed in tranquility.
These protagonist have a purpose, perhaps noble. They are 'gunslingers.' Their task is to right things -- stop the nonsense. They are knights of human righteousness. Along the way, pieces of lost souls are rediscovered and recovered. In an insanity plagued world, these valiant soldiers are awake in a place where madness never sleeps. They realize that madness only goes dormant -- only to rest up and torment again.