As a child, books swept me away from a world I could not control.
As a teen, books invited me to discover truths no one was talking about.
As a young mom, books filled the gaps and kept me entertained when snotty noses ruled my days . . . and nights.
But of all the books, of all the stories, post-apocalyptic fiction fired my imagination like none other.
“Lucifer’s Hammer” and “Alas, Babylon” had it all: built in drama, sensational conflict, and unlimited possibilities.
Now, I write post-apocalyptic fiction because the genre makes everything important again—food, water, air, family, children, security, relationships, sex, life, and death.
A good story requires conflict. All good writers understand this. The old writing adage says write characters you love, run them up a tree, and then . . . throw rocks at them (Nabokov.)
Post-apocalyptic fiction? Done. It’s all there. The story spins out like a tapestry of trouble and triumph. Our characters can’t help but find themselves “up a tree” and the rocks come automatically.
It’s a genre that owns action, adventure, and survival.
I used to think that mysteries must be hard to write. I never know who “done it.” But then I realized that mysteries, like post-apocalyptic fiction, have built-in drama—someone’s dead, someone is going to be dead, someone is making sure someone is dead. Bam! Drama!
And drama is the air our characters breathe.
Don’t get me wrong. I still read it all. But I’ll always find my way back to post-apocalyptic fiction where anyone can imagine themselves up that tree and the rocks just keep on coming.
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