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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

...on living your own story.


A forest grows from the ground up. A plant unrooted from fertile soil cannot thrive. A soul severed from their native intention will wither as surely as any displaced plant.

We live in a culture that imposes unnatural expectations upon its young, based on the premise that “success” is defined by material affluence. Spending one’s entire adult life doing work contrary to a soul’s deepest longings is often the price exacted by such an outcome.

To succeed at living your own true life requires a pure intention, that is, to act and purpose out of your own created nature and character, not according to a template imposed by ambitious others who are looking to find their inconclusive dreams and appetites satiated and justified in your existence.

We were not put in this world to live sad and regretful stories. What would be sadder than to come to the end of your story and find you’ve been living somebody else’s life?

Henry's books.

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  1. I needed this as a reminder today. And I will read it and meditate on it in the days to come. Thanks, Henry.

    1. I needed a reminder, too, Josh. That's why I wrote it.


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