The Involuntary Ghostwriter

The Involuntary Ghostwriter

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing45m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, May 22, 2017
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Fanfic
Descendants
"What if God was one of us?" Credit to Eric Bazzilion, and thanks to Joan Osborne for singing his brain-rattling words. Much earlier, my mother promised that if I applied myself, I could be whatever I wanted when I grew up. Then, from somewhere, I read that the best thing about being a writer is the ability to be anyone you want to be. So, I had quite a blend stirring in my imagination for years before I finally had the luxury of converting that concoction into words, and it shouldn't be entirely surprising that the central narrative of The Ghostwriter Series purports to be the autobiography of God or the Creator as He prefers. Before dismissing this, consider: Once upon a time, an audacious ape raised its head above the others and thought itself superior. Then, beginning with our first written words, I believe we've become active participants in creating our universe. Consider how far we've come from that first bipedal ape. Imagine explaining our SmartPhones to the Inquisition. From this point, how long until our descendants appear to us as gods, like those of Greek mythology? Are there any limitations, other than our imaginations, to what we can ultimately become if we don't destroy ourselves first? In The Involuntary Ghostwriter, JONATHON FRY has the opportunity to fulfill the lifelong dream of writing a novel. But instead, he soon finds himself compelled to write: "In the beginning... I was born." That He once lived a life much like ours. He did not create the Universe; He exists within it but takes credit for the tiny part that we call the universe. Wouldn't this be similar to the experiences of writers of the Holy books, through no choice of their own, becoming conduits channeling the words of God or the Creator as He prefers? Prophets? Involuntary Ghostwriters? The twin narratives of The Involuntary Ghostwriter represent life's bookends: coming of age and coming to terms with navigating one's latter years.
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"If we decay, it'll be divine. Flesh to flower, your hand in mine." ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── Lorelei is a lonely woman living in a lonely tower, watching the world rot around her. A plague has consumed humanity. She is left with the walking leftovers, and herself... Until she crosses paths with Beau. He's amongst the trees, lingering in the wind, and all over her mind. Beau is rigid and cold, but buried deep inside, he harbors a softness that pulls Lorelei in. Beau prefers his quiet solitude. His reality has always been desolate and abandoned. Life couldn't get any more bleak. They are oil and water traversing a living hellscape, but the rotters aren't the only danger. Something is closing in on them, and they'll have to work together to survive it. ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── This is a slow burn romance that takes place in a post-apocalyptic world. It is complete at 89,448 words.

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