My Road—The Adventures of Tally-Ho Today
My Road Goes Ever On
Literary Achievements in My Road Goes Ever On 2024 mark this as a productive, though not published, year. I completed twenty-four short stories, five non-fiction reflections, a poem, two novels, and one children’s book. Unfortunately, my efforts for publication in literary journals have not panned out, but my search for a literary agent wobbles forward.
Formally begun in 2023, my third novel in the Newearth universe, Newearth Progeny, takes on some challenging topics: motherhood, personal identity, bioethics, and the value of family.
Visions of motherhood entice Human Services Detective, Clare Erlandson, onto the road of advanced medical technology, offering her a baby without the usual complications. Her partner tries to warn her of a dangerous mistake but ends up teaching a cyborg and a caveman basic baby care. Two sons, given wildly different childhoods, set in motion a future many feared but no one could have predicted.
Soon after finishing Progeny, I felt compelled to continue the journey with Newearth Relevance, completed in July.
On a mission to find meaning and a home for himself, Relevance, as Newearth’s first tribrid humanoid, founds LEAP Laboratories in partnership with an angry geneticist who harbors dystopian dreams. Together they populate the woodlands with sentient animals called Animans, but when their goals divide, Relevance finds himself trying to stop the very operation he brought into being. As the Animans suffer pain and loss, Relevance must face the same consequences that his creators experienced, forcing him to reconsider his own humanity.
Next, a children’s book that has been developing in my mind for years finally took shape. Wise Home was born of my love for children’s literature and the healing power of our natural world. Children need stories – it is one of the best parts of their human heritage.
When family troubles mount, a little girl is sent to the home of her Great Aunt Wilda who shares boxes full of memories and teaches her how to garden and make delicious meals. When she explores the woodlands, even more wonderful discoveries bring the meaning of wisdom home.
The year isn’t over, and my creative juices are still flowing. My plans include updating my OldEarth-Newearth Bible by organizing the information for more streamlined use, compiling my short stories for possible publication, and completing a new novel—a contemporary woman’s story, Fly, Sparrow, Fly.
As I perused literary journals and magazines this year, I noted a repeated call for “underserved voices.” After thinking long and hard about that noble intention, two ideas rose to the surface of my mind.
One—every good piece of literature, whether it be an old classic or a modern novel inevitably delves into the heart of the human experience. For it to ring true, the author must speak from honest experience, wrenching doubts, and heart-rending conflicts. Tolstoy wasn’t speaking merely as a Russian living in the eighteen hundreds, he reflected the human struggle to understand humanity. That’s why people from around the globe and in the modern era can read him and connect, find food for thought, and solace for wounded spirits. Underserved should not mean highlighting particular nationalities or lifestyles; it should embrace the human experience of all.
Two—Popular literary movements tend to promote didactic writing —writing intended to promote a particular cause. There’s a danger in such writing. It easily slides into propaganda. The “truth” that an author promotes is not owned by that author. It might not even be true! There’s no wisdom prize for being right and telling the world about it. The best, most lasting writing reflects not the author’s chosen creed but the human struggle to discover meaning, untangle virtue from vice, translate personal visions in the light of daytime realities, and a whole host of other conflicts honestly portrayed.
If we only promote authors who come from particular places and specific lifestyles or are advancing an individual cause, we risk hardening our hearts and closing our ears to unexpected beauty vibrantly portrayed.
Literary achievement depends not on sifting through the chaff of humanity to find the glittering golden child but on becoming present to the hidden soul who stands in our midst, whoever that may be.