I had a story inside of me, and it was jumping around and banging things in the night.
So I wrote and wrote—about ghosts, gods, women, war, sex, healings, monsters, and strange dark coincidences.
Had I lived it?
Much of the fictional Deets Parker odyssey came from restless memories of long ago escaping from some inner shadowed dungeon. The old demons put themselves front and center as inspiration whenever they sought a place on my written page. But even after appearing there, the manifestations insisted on continuing their harassment of me. It became obvious that my muse must have been busy listening to their hauntings.
The banging got louder.
Many incidents in the The Remarkable Adventures of Deets Parker center around synchronicity. Invariably, as I composed the epic tale, some real life event would come along, echoing words I had just written the day or hour or month before. There’s a scene where Deets feels psychically connected through one of his drawings to a man who kills himself in another city. Editing, I asked myself how pertinent a vignette it was to the novel. I decided not to delete it. It seemed the essence of the trilogy’s theme of mystic or spiritual connectivity because the night I wrote that heartbreaking section, miles away and without me knowing it consciously, a good friend of mine committed suicide.
What’s real and where’s it real can be hard to fathom sometimes. Writing episodic magical happenings became my world. There’s a conversation in Miracles, Book 3, where Deets is asked if his story is true. He answers, “I don’t know anymore, but I believe it because it happened to me.”