My book, The Road Not Taken, poses many “magical questions”—and I’m going to begin digging even deeper into the historic and mythical underpinnings in its pages, here and on social media @SusanRubin1 on Twitter and @SusanRubinWriter on Instagram, in a new series: Mapping the Road Not Taken. Together, we’ll travel through the pages of my book—and at every stop, I’m going to ask you to answer a magical question. Leave your response in the comments here or on social media.
Note to self: you are angry. Say what you need to say. But remember you have lived through 5 years of human depravity, cowardice, and stupidity.
In my book The Road Not Taken, the protagonist’s arc ends when she gives “an argument” for or against keeping the earth functioning. The founders of the planet check in with one human being every thousand years to see what a smart person assesses as the worth of their species.
The earth is energy intensive, and there are many other planets and universes: In The Road Not Taken, our planet is up for judgment. The original inhabitants of earth, known as the Lost, keep tabs and can bring in the Boson Particle to end a failing planet or whole solar system.
Having created Deborah, the protagonist, she became independent of me, acting and speaking in ways I found shocking. I refuse to be one of those authors who fly around their characters with dictates and assumptions: I want to let them teach me something.
My woman makes a “closing argument” that favors saving the earth with the caveat that human beings can become less cruel. Forgive me while I take a moment to laugh.
I think her opinion is piffle. If my species could be less cruel, why has it become crueler? As fun as it is to blame one person, or his followers, the human race allowed him to function, we allowed him to live. I am against Capital Punishment, but I am enthusiastically in favor of self- defense, that means not ignoring a toxic, crazy person and his followers who function with reptilian brains.
Many of us have spent 5 years in suicidal dismay over the ugliness (“I’ll put this tiger in a cage, you give me money, and you can shoot it. We’ll drag out its carcass and pretend you risked your life.”). Now the whole planet is at fatal risk from a virus. For some, not wearing a mask is a statement of freedom. For me, not wanting to be safe simply means your penis is too little. As for their women, they are unfathomable to me.
We are plagued with disease, and millions cannot draw the line between our rape of mother earth, and her revenge in the form of a lethal virus: “It’s just like the flu.” Wrong. “It’s a hoax.” Wrong. “Hillary Clinton is a cannibal.” Must I comment?
If I made a closing argument, I would bring in the Higgs Boson particle—the “God Particle,” which in a billionth of a billionth of a second would take out our planet. No pain. No fear. No sorrow for the young creatures who will never have a life. Just an end to this blithering brutality.
Maybe I’m wrong. Which brings me to today’s question:
What hopes do you have for the future? What changes do you truly believe are on the way?
This election brought out more people than ever, people overwhelmingly against this regime of the reptiles. Maybe my character saw that coming. I can get so angry at injustice and cruelty, that I am as blind as a newborn kitten. And not as cute. Perhaps you can help me regain some optimism.