Hello, my friends and the occasional relative!

I’m back, in a time of war. Of course, on this green earth it is always a time of war. Always. And every New Year we listen to Imagine, and every New Year it seems an impossible dream. Some years more obviously than others.

Another war. More children dead. Dead on February 28^th, dying probably every day since. Brush your teeth, kiss your mama, go to school, get incinerated by the doubletap. According to sources. Rows of small graves. 80 years of hatred is bought by such crimes. Violated families do not forget unto the third generation, and sometimes not that soon.

I think a rain of oil is new. So we have a biblical style event too. I do not think that bodes well.

I write grim stories. I’m writing a grim story now. In comparison to our world, it is quaint, and comforting. And it is about psychotic mass murderers.

Why? Because in my stories, even evil people are rational. Driven by greed, anger, or hate, maybe, but they tend to have plans, goals. They have structure. And, eventually, they will be defeated.

When you read a book, you expect it to obey rules, to follow certain forms. Books that ignore rules and forms are often regarded as difficult, or nonsensical. I suspect we like our rules in story as a tonic against the creeping awareness that we live in a world in which the senseless often happens. Worse, that the senselessness can be us. The human. Irrational actions. Not just bad choices, but stupid, sense-defying choices. Self-harming choices embraced with apparent glee. If the senseless in life meant just accepting the odd random lightning strike we would not need tales of crime and punishment, of heroes winning against the odds, of good triumphing over evil, and showing how evil defeats itself.

But our oldest stories are full of that. Of pride leading to fall, of rule breakers receiving justice. Of the underdog emerging triumphant. We crave reassurance, we want to warn ourselves and others against making the crazed mistake, remind people they should act to prevent that mistake from being made.

For it is the doom of men that they forget.

Something we have unfortunately proved many times throughout history. And are proving now. We use stories to try to help prevent disaster, to warn future generations not to take the wrong path. But new prides arise, and lead to new falls.

I think, in future stories, should I have time and opportunity to write them, I shall try harder to include the irrational, the danger of it and the draw of its unpredictability, how it can confuse enemies, and win conflicts even as it sows the seeds of its own destruction, because like it or not, the universe does have rules, and however much we may scoff at them sometimes, we are held tight in their grip. Denying them does not allow us escape, but some may run very far before they are caught.

That’s all I have to say. That and it is odd that I said I’d stop writing here regularly and my views went up. Hello to the bots and scrapers I suppose. Also to the very nice people who have left likes scattered through my old output – thank you! If only my book sales increased as much.

Stay rational, my friends. Losing yourself in lunacy may seem attractive, may seem like an escape, but the cost is always high, and the cold dawn must eventually be faced.