The Summer of Writing

I spent most of the summer writing short fiction. Really, it was an experiment writing. I was to write a story a week. I did do this, and now the 'final' story of the summer sits at my desk, and I think it is my best.


As one continues to write, and write a great deal, certain steams of thought and narrative flow(s) reveal themselves. This is not a flashy way of saying I repeat myself. No, I think it is the realization that we have, as writers, certain strata in our psyches (or selves, or personae) and that this is the root level of where our material comes.


One must be true to these levels, and work them as you would anything that requires work. The form is there, one just give it substance.


And of course there are various resistances that shall remain nameless...

הכל אלוהים

הכל אלוהים


Yes, everything is God. Again.


For me, the exploration of the world, of literature, of science, is ultimately an investigation of God or Being or the ground by which we understand our existence. Very little of my formal writing deals with others topics. And by way of self criticism, I produce very little good work that does not deal with this topic, the topic of all topics.


God edges His/Her/It way into nearly every story I write, and it the self-evident topic of my two non-fiction, published works.


For me, this is a very real premise. As I grow older, the impulse has only grown stronger. I have found that many of my impulses are starting to be subordinated to the impulse to find, dwell and exist within God. It is now what I look for when I look out at the world.


My definition of God is necessarily expansive. It includes everything, everyone, everywhere, at every time. It is the seemingly good and bad and holy and evil. It is a difficult program of inclusion and acceptance, with a strong Hebraic-Jewish flavor. It is not for everyone, nor is it necessarily even advisable to act upon this supposition at all times.


But it is a beautiful view even when just briefly glimpsed