I'm not sure a quarterly blog is a particularly effective style of communication. I must (and will) do better. Sometimes, the journey (as a writer, a teacher, a gardener, and a bewildered observer of this utterly surreal world) can be taxing, to say the least. Every day I see countless topics worthy of commentary, but far too many seem like a poor fit for a site featuring a writer of fiction. Plus, I must bite my tongue every time I want to delve into a political rant. However, here are a couple of observations that seem relevant:
1/ I suspect the sub-genre for pandemic thrillers is probably going to go bust. I doubt the fear factor inherit in those books will seem quite as, oh, FEARFUL anymore. Those writers might as well do their research and switch over to non-fiction. Think of it like this: Folks who write tales of alien first contact had best hope that's not the next epic headline. Yikes. On the other hand, if the aliens are hostile, they'll blow us to silly little bits and none of it will matter a wit.
2/ I think we all know that as technological conveniences have ramped up our ability to do more work in less time, to get where we want to go in less time, and to deliver products we bought online to our doorstep within a day or two, we have a tendency to become impatient with aspects of life's journey that maybe we used to take in stride. There's an old saw that says life is about the journey, not the destination; but we have clearly become destination-centric. Gotta have it, gotta have it now. I think about this because, as I write Book 4 in The Impossible Future series, humanity (in another universe) stands on the brink of a huge technological leap that might allow instantaneous transportation between any two designated points in the galaxy. Gotta be there, gotta be there now! On the surface, the idea seems cool. Want to take a trip to the third planet of Proxima Centauri? Step inside the machine, my friend, and you'll be there in all of thirty seconds.
But would it be cool? Aside from all those dumb Earthers spreading their (name your virus) to the fine folks of Proxima III (and eventually wiping them out), imagine the military potential here. Anytime, anywhere. No warning whatsoever. Frightening, to say the least. But from a dramatic standpoint, very cool indeed.
I, Frank Kennedy, am a lifelong writer who only recently began publishing novels I have written over the past quarter century. I am also an English teacher, philosopher of the impractical, and occasional oddball. This seems to work out nicely for me.