Category: fiction

Posted on

Walking on Water

There is a special misery reserved for those caught on a little boat in the middle of the sea late at night when a storm is raging. True, there was no rain, but on this night the angry wind swept across unguarded water and threw up muscular waves to toss and knock and soak us. There was a little moonlight, and by it I could see my friends huddled low, heads down, shivering, worrying over the growing pool in the bottom of the boat. What else could we do?

Then we saw something worse. Off to one side there was a wave that leapt up and stood still, or so it seemed. Or was it the fin of a huge fish cresting the water, plowing directly for us?

But no—it was a man, or the shape of a man. A ghost! The ghost of a sailor lost in this place, a sailor sent to warn us of our doom or else tug us with him into the depths forever. Others saw it. Someone screamed, and another. It drifted over the water, coming—yes, definitely coming toward us, though slowly, cruelly, full of deadly anticipation. A great swell lifted the figure, then the trough as it swept past brought it low, as if it were gliding on the water like a child on snow. Now there could be no question: a ghost was approaching. I began to see eyes, gleaming eyes in the moonlight, and the terror rose into my throat. I told myself: I would not scream. But yes, soon I must scream.

Continue reading “Walking on Water”
Posted on

The Last Family

The Last Family

I’m trying an experiment. Starting July 30 I will be publishing a book, The Last Family, on this website, in a strange and unusual way. The book will appear in segments, synchronized in real time with the events of the story.

It’s about an ordinary family of five: Brewer, Amy, and their kids Garrett, Claire, and Trevor. They get home from a hiking trip to find that they are all alone. Everyone else in the world has disappeared. They must figure out how to survive, how to find others, how to endure together in this strange new life.

The book unfolds as a series of diary entries, each member of the family telling their story with their own distinct voice and perspective.

The first entry appears on July 30 at 10:51 PM CT. The next appears soon afterward, and I’ll release it at the date and time of its writing. And so it will go, day by day, hour by hour, new entries appearing at various times, as long as the family keeps writing.

If you don’t want to miss anything, subscribe and I’ll shoot you an email each time a new entry is released.

If you like reading—or if you don’t like reading but like experiencing gripping stories in new ways—please join me for this little experiment.

Posted on

Lyra

One day a young angel, only three and a half billion years old, very naive, with limited experience of the wide universe and eager for more, was called over by one of her elder brothers. “I have a special mission for you,” he said. “It is said that Life has appeared somewhere in the universe, in accordance with the purpose and timing of the Almighty. It is your task to seek out this Life, and when you find it, tell us so that we may visit the planet to nurture and guide it.”

Continue reading “Lyra”
Posted on

Measures

Here’s how it happened for me. I was sitting in the back seat on the passenger side. I had just asked the driver how long he’d been with Uber, and he said, like he’d answered the question a thousand times, “Six months.” Then I asked how many rides he’d given, and there was a sort of cool pride in his face and I was expecting a big number, when I saw—or really felt—a presence to my right, a buzzing, looming mass. I looked out the window, and there was the wheel of an eighteen-wheeler right beside my door, coming closer. I still don’t know whether it was changing into our lane or we had drifted into its.

Continue reading “Measures”
Posted on

C. S. Lewis’s Letter to Tolkien upon First Reading The Lord of the Rings

J R. R. Tolkien wrote The Lord of the Rings over a long interval that began well before World War II and ended a few years after. Both Tolkien and his adult son Christopher regularly attended meetings of the Inklings, a literary group of which C. S. Lewis was the guiding star, and the two Tolkiens took turns reading The Lord of the Rings as it came together. Lewis had therefore heard most of The Lord of the Rings before receiving the typescript of the finished novel in October 1949. After reading it he wrote this letter to Tolkien.

Continue reading “C. S. Lewis’s Letter to Tolkien upon First Reading The Lord of the Rings”