My own writing journey culminated in a vision for the future that derived from a past experience firmly rooted in the vast expanse of the unconscious.  That journey began in late November 2004 shortly after my wife and I returned from vacation. 

The transition from Thanksgiving to Christmas is one of my favorite times of the year and this particular year marked the first time we displayed a small, fiber-optic tree in our apartment.  Now, one tree may not appear any more relevant to the Christmas celebration than any other, especially as Christ is the reason for the season.  A tree is simply a symbol, but as symbols often take on meanings of their own, this particular object had a profound impact on my life. 

I work at home and the infamous fly on the wall could regularly report of my pacing around the floor while contemplating solutions to my client’s problems.  The early afternoon hours of this fateful day found me deep in thought regarding a perplexing problem whose solution was complicated by the distracting display from the fiber-optic tree.  Each iteration of my trek around the floor brought me face-to-face with a specter of multi-colored illumination that sparkled with almost mesmerizing effect.

A curious combination of distraction and fatigue eventually led me to the couch for a brief rest, in stark contrast to my normal behavior in such instances, which is another cup of coffee.  The rationale for that decision, while an interesting subject for discussion in itself, pales in comparison to the result of my unusual action. 

Barely half an hour later, I awoke from an intense dream, the contents of which seem almost burnt into my mind even to this day.  The subject of this mental vision was a ruthless and ambitious young man whose sole ambition was the top rung of the largest corporate ladder.  Driven by avarice and a deep-seeded need for revenge, this man crushed every perceived opposition along the path to his self-proclaimed destiny.  Yet, just when victory seemed within his grasp, fate turned its hand away and this man’s bright future faded like a candle snuffed out by a gentle afternoon breeze.  This poor soul reached his latter years broken physically, emotionally, and financially, barely able to sustain a living as a janitor at a nearby school.  Each day, he returned to a broken-down apartment to wind down yet another day of a broken-down life.

One day, this undeserving man is given a unique opportunity by virtue of a Christmas tree to return to the most critical decision point in his life.  In this second iteration of his life, the man makes a different decision and although his original desire remains out of reach, the downward spiral in his life is avoided.  In this miraculous second chance, experienced through the magic of a Christmas tree, he realizes that the ambitions of his youth were severely misplaced.  Each return to the Christmas tree reveals longer spans of time in an alternate life, until one day the man is found dead in front of his tree with a smile on his face.

For a reason as mystifying as the dream itself, I awoke at the precise climax of what could just as easily have been described as a trance.  My first thought after rising from the couch was, ‘that would make a good Twilight Zone episode.’  My second thought was that a nap hardly represented an efficient use of time and I immediately dismissed the entire episode in favor of a fresh pot of coffee.  The afternoon’s activities continued just as so many days before and the business of life moved onward like an endless flow of water in a stream.

Years passed and then this story, as these stories often do, took a most unusual turn.  January 2010 found me in a new apartment with a new fiber optic tree occupying a prominent place on the kitchen countertop.  This particular tree was the most visually impressive of any model we owned during the prior five years and we decided to display it until mid-month.

Once again, another client problem occupied my mind and that engagement resulted in yet another repetition of a pacing ritual around the living-room floor.  For some inexplicable reason, my attention was drawn to that tree and my thoughts returned to a similar experience from so many years earlier.   I could still recall vivid details from the 2004 dream and a story slowly began to emerge.   

The Twilight Zone works well for a short story, but I don’t care for a deux ex machina in general.  I began to ponder the rationale for the hero’s experience in my original dream and crafted a medical explanation for his condition.  Story elements seem to coalesce with each lap around the living room floor and about an hour of exercise left me in slightly better health and in possession of a story outline.

The man from the dream now had a name, the main characters were cast, and a sequence of events was launched in my mind.  All that remained to turn the short story into a complete novel was a good setting.  I have a personal fascination with the concept of going back in time and changing one decision in your life.  It is easy to see how such a change might affect your own life, but could it affect others or even spread to influence the entire world?

The Day The World Retreated examines these questions from the point of view of a future society in the year 2020.  Although the story takes place in the future, it is not science fiction; it is an engaging and inspirational story about hope for the future and the transforming power of faith.

I do not write for myself, for fortune, or any expectation of fame, although I’d certainly be happy if the Lord chose to bestow me with any of these.  I write for one person, a unique individual with whom I have no familiarity, one for whom hope for the future is as elusive as a winning lottery ticket.  My story is that true hope for the future comes through faith in God and that is why I write.