WHY WRITE ABOUT THE APOCALYPSE?
Why write about the apocalypse? This an honest question. Honestly. Because this isn't my usual genre to read. I can list most of the post-apocalyptic books I've read on one hand. The Road. The Stand. Side note: starting to understand why I named my books the way I did.
Yes, I grew up talking about it. War or plague or even zombies. Where would I go? What would I do?
But why am I... Why are WE... So enchanted with the idea of the world ending?
How often have we, as a society, lamented our use of our phones? Our tablets? Our computers?
How often have we all, as a whole, said we'd be better off without them?
We say it, but maybe we don't believe it. Or, the advantages technology gives us barely outweigh our misgivings. For we are connected, right? We have access to so much knowledge, how can we find fault in collective intelligence?
So we yearn for someone to take it all away even as we abuse it. Like a drug. "I could totally be fine without my phone for a whole week."
Have you ever been in a room filled with the people you love, family or friends or someone perhaps closer... And still checked your phone? You are with your chosen ones. You are WHERE you want to be. So why check for something else?
We can't help ourselves. We are hooked.
So how could there not be a part of our psyche, our soul, even our minds, that yearns to be ripped away by force. Put into a post-apocalyptic rehab. To be kidnapped and taken to a time and place where EVERY interaction is in the moment. With no prospect of a distraction, or a little dopamine dump, or any of the other things we get with our technology.
Really, it's our body trying to be healthy. We daydream of the end of the world to expunge the toxins of living so small. When you can't rip yourself away from a little screen to look at the person who is addressing you, then there is an issue. And our bodies are complex! They are smart! Just as they have antibodies to combat diseases, so too they form defenses against that which is a threat to our mind.
So perhaps daydreaming of the end of the world is just the desperate plea of a body and soul on its last legs. I would like to think I'm listening, now.