May We Live in Interesting Times

I spent much of my childhood living in my older brother's shadow. He was an all-star athlete and I couldn't compete with his athleticism, so at an early age I began making up stories in a shameless bid for attention. At the same time, I began drawing, and after graduating from college and foundering in a variety of jobs, I found my niche as a conceptual illustrator, which allowed me to tell stories with paint. I enjoyed the challenge presented by art directors to create visual hooks for books and magazines to arrest the attention of readers. A few years ago, I began a blog called The Chubby Chatterbox, where I received positive feedback for my autobiographical tales of a chubby chatterbox growing up in the 50s, 60s and beyond. Return of the Mary Celeste is my first novel, and it has been percolating in my head for years as I pondered my spiritual conundrum. I appreciate Sūtra House Press' efforts to launch my book into the world.

"May you live in interesting times," is an often-repeated Chinese saying, but it's actually a curse, a tongue-in-cheek euphemism for dangerous or chaotic times. There's no question that we are living in interesting times. People today are struggling to find a safe emotional harbor; traditional sanctuaries like patriotism, freedom of (or from) religion, safety from unimaginable violence, traditional family values and a belief in the triumph of democracy are currently under attack. Our society is at the breaking point. Until recently, many religious institutions complained about declining membership, but young people today are returning to religion in droves. Recent data shows that a belief in God among 18–24 year-olds has tripled in just 3.5 years, with increases in most demographics.

I, too, struggle with spiritual doubts. When I began Return of the Mary Celeste, I placed myself in the "Doubting Thomas" category when it came to God. Yes, there is much beauty in the world, but I struggled to reconcile it with the lack of civility in modern society: gun violence in schools, hatred for immigrants who have contributed so much to our country and hatred for the LGBTQ community have soured me on the notion that this is all part of some Divine plan.

As I reflect on the universe and our place in it, thoughts about God, or intelligent design, collide with logic and skepticism. A famous astrophysicist recently stated that the universe is infinite, yet we humans are trying to understand it with finite brains, and our existence might be based on concepts we are incapable of fathoming. Yet stepping away from the safety provided by organized religion is like jumping out of an airplane without a parachute. Much like Anderson Owens, my protagonist in Return of the Mary Celeste, I'm forced to conclude that logic can never provide every answer.

Voltaire famously said, "God is a comedian playing to an audience that is too afraid to laugh." Over the years I've chuckled at this statement; at other times I've thought it exceptionally profound. My thoughts on topics like who are we, why are we here, where are we going, are constantly evolving. Writing this novel provided me with my own miracle by prompting a reexamination of my feelings on faith. Atheists and comedians constantly force us to leave our comfort zones, and by doing so often incur the wrath of many. In my opinion, these folks are among the bravest of people. But such bravery all too often comes at a cost, and many of us, like my protagonist Anderson Owens, are often inclined to question the price.