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Writing Wendl...

I really did want to write a light-hearted tale in case this one turns out to be my last novel (assuming it yet becomes a novel), but it's headed currently toward the shadows. I thought I knew Wendl Von Trier pretty well, having trekked with him through my previous book, The Winged Child .   There, Wendl presents as an elusive solitary, moving above all worldly fray while at the same time nudging events and characters toward a satisfactory conclusion. Sharp and intimidating on the outside and tender and motherly on the inside. A friend to the world, something of a trickster, but in all things working for good outcomes.  That is how I saw Wendl VonTrier. A  púka, mischievous, but essentially harmless, even benevolent, capable of presenting in whatever form or gender the moment required. Wendl seemed the ideal candidate to carry readers off into the literary sunset in good spirits after an exhilarating romp through a fantastical fiction. But all along, it seems, there were depths to

Two worlds...

We live in two worlds. One world is home to makers. The other is occupied by users. Between those two worlds is a great gulf none can cross except by mercy and miracle.

Those souls who live a life of making create abundance. Whatever they put hand and mind to becomes more than it was. Users generate scarcity. What they have used up is no longer there to bless their ends.

Using ends in chaos and debris. Making brings about a new order of things, deeper and richer than existed before.

In a society where most people are users, consumers, it takes uncommon courage and depth of vision to be a maker, creator. God is ever the Maker. We know God through participating in the creative processes of the universe. We experience Presence in making.

Be a maker then. Make love, beauty, make peace or freedom, make a home, make a garden, Make a poem, a story, make something, anything that is real, that is true, that sustains and nourishes everliving souls.

Henry's books.


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