I started writing a murder mystery last year around this time. The first two thirds of the book went incredibly well; like it was just sitting inside somewhere waiting to come out.
Then of course, I had to have a murder and someone had to do it.
So the last third has been less fun, let’s just say. I know there are ‘formulas’ for writing mysteries but I didn’t read any of those; I’d rather jump in and figure it out. That’s a big part of the appeal of writing for me - the surprise of what wants expression and then its execution.
So really in this murder mystery I’m in over my head. And that’s good - because what’s fun about following a formula? I don’t know what I’m doing but I’ll come up with my own formula, damnit. (It’s very likely, this little piece is a means of avoiding that very thing.)
I’ve also noticed in the last week, that attempts at writing anything for substack comes out in lines of poetry, even when I intend to write prose. It’s odd.
I wonder if it’s a sign of something shifting out there (or in here) where familiar, well-worn paths are giving way to something new? It’s a feeling.
Of course, what’s playing out now is nothing new, except perhaps in its global scale and scope. Nothing new under the sun, as we know, though surely the stage for this drama has grown.
Or - here’s a thought - maybe we’re at the end; the culmination of those familiar themes, finally worn out and threadbare. Maybe, something new under the sun is on its way.
How exciting.
In the swirl of the craziness, it’s good to remember, we came here for this particular event. For this show.
And those of us not seduced by the perpetual program
who caught on to the massive con
and started sounding the alarm
(I warned you about the poetry.) Well… I suspect many of us would be bored out of our gourd, if there wasn’t a planet to save.
Everything is at stake and nothing at once. Real characters cast in a story.
It occurs to me that this is a time of paradox, of living paradox on a grand scale and more significantly - because paradox has always existed - this is a time of the integration of paradox. The audience watching the story is aware of their role in it - the observer and observed are merging. (That’s not just me, right?)
Well that’s new.
We’re birthing a new version of the world. We are. Humans. It’s like those old rehashed scripts have finally come to an end. How many times could we really watch the same themes play out? Old formulas that worked, sure, but where’s the fun in that?
We’re in the midst of the final act now: the end of the play that held all the smaller plays within it. The stakes couldn’t be higher, the villain more pernicious and devious, and how will it end? And think of it, it’s not Gotham it wants to control, not even a country, no this villain wants to consume the world. Swallow it whole. All the familiar characters and versions of our stories - vanished in one greedy gulp.
How does it end?
With us trapped in a virtual world as transhumans forever at the mercy of our evil-doing enslavers? Mining bitcoin in the metaverse for the super-rich as we walk, dead-eyed, down aisles in the supermarket (Bill Gates likes this version) as zombie versions of our previous selves? Gasp! (At least, we need not, in this dystopian outcome, worry about the graphene-laced food we’re purchasing, it’s essential to our DNA altered bodies.)
Or… will there be a twist? An unexpected triumph of the about-to-be-enslaved humans who through sheer spunk and resilience find a solution? How do they break free of their chains? What’s the “I didn’t see that coming” moment of overcoming the odds?
The theatre is of course dark. Many in the audience are sleeping through it - no time to wonder or worry about that - it’s all coming to a head. What will the humans do? What will earth turn into? A full-on prison planet of slaves, or a saved planet and its people, newly empowered in their reclaimed inheritance as free?
I’m on edge of my seat.
I don’t know the nature of the twist. Or who the heroes end up being (I have some guesses.) It’s still being written. Like any good mystery, it will reveal itself and surprise even the author(s). This is a juicy story.
And we’re the authors. We’re writing the ending together. Everyday. I read the evolving script on substack largely, via a multitude of authors. Some cover the details, some the big-picture arch of the story, some add color, humor and of course, drama.
Like all really good stories, there will be loss and heartbreak. There will be close-calls and scary scenes. There will be redemption and surprise, lessons learned and love expanded. And above there will be something new and unexpected.
I have no idea how it ends, but I’m sure the good guys come out on top. The bad guys get theirs in the end and everyone left behind when the dust settles, feel quite satisfied having watched it all play out. Having played their part to perfection.
As the credits roll I would suggest a scene of a rising sun - a new day - signifying the end of a crazy scary, almost dream-like reality that felt all too real. Wait, was that real? Or was that just a story? Did that really happen?
Yes, and no. It’s somehow both at the same time and yet not in contradiction.
It’s a paradox, swallowed whole by us, now integrated into our new reality.
It’s hard not to wonder, what will we write next?
yes, the way it plays out will surprise all. It is a mystery and will be revealed in God's time, although I am impatient for it. It does have a happy ending, but getting through to Mordor will be difficult, but it will happen.
There definitely does seem to be a shift occurring. Things have gone from a very primal sense of urgency, to now a psychological storyline. The earlier days of the pandemic had us needing to understand the logistics of how to survive, needing to understand how to navigate the ‘new normal’ that we really didn’t want to accept. Now that we realize the deeply nefarious aspects of what really went down, we need to make sense of who is playing which role, and we are desperate for a sense of control in the outcome.
In some ways the story is unfolding quickly…it’s all been done before (if we look through the darker history books) but at the same time it’s all new to us, and it’s unfolding way too slowly. I want to skip to the last few pages and know for sure that providence triumphs.
I love that Substackers are shifting from revealing hard hitting facts and concrete data to now a more nuanced storyline. A more personal account, including hypotheses, introspection, and poetry. I think we all need this shift…it’s been too real. Or…is it about to get real?