Recently the family took a trip out to the woods, where I encountered this deliciously dark pond at dusk. As I stared into the black water, I remembered a wondrous thing that ZZ Claybourne said about my novella, “Viridian.” In his review of that story, he called my writing “a mirror dark and bright.”
Well, folks, here is the mirror dark and bright in real life. I hope I could ever write something as eloquent as the dying sun in the dying trees, the whole world balanced between darkness and the bright, clear light of winter in the long, drawn-out dusk. The water is not dead. It is living, settling and watchful, brimming with sleeping life. The oaks cling to blood red leaves. Everything breathes, even as it holds its breath. What is seen on the surface is truth. What is beneath is also true.
Happy fall, y’all.
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