Q5 John and Caitlin

Q1
John and Cait quickly became full members of the story appearing almost or as often as some of the original nine characters (including Papa) and between the two of them, three of them Ariel included, they have provided some of the most memorable chapters of the story. One of my personal all-time favourites was the chapter in which we were introduced to Cait, where we saw John returning from a mission, returning for just one evening contrary to what they both believed would be the case and John's certainty that Cait would be disappointed but accepting, a favourite for the beauty of the writing and the relationship and I remember thinking, here is someone who knows, who has felt, who has experienced, who has been blessed to be able to write so confidently. What attracted you to the character of John in those initial and relatively brief appearances of him that led to him being incorporated so thoroughly within the story?

Trée: As strange as this may sound, I fell in love with John when the image of "John" appeared in my mind, and the image, as you know, was of George Clooney playing the role. The image in my mind appeared, by the way, long before I did the sketch of "John" using George as reference. Once I had the image of George as John, I started to imagine what John would be like and a good bit of John's personality and demeanor flowed from the image. I wanted John to be a somewhat tragic figure caught between opposites, living in a world of contradictions, of a person who on the outside looks perfect (military hero, surgeon, top of his class, beautiful wife and child, big house and a lineage of tradition, etc.) but who is constantly having to live in a grey world of compromise and choice, a reality that bears on him over time, a reality in which he does not always win (think Cait here). Some examples: (1) John is a good guy but is caught in a rather "not good" administration, which he is serving dutifully; (2) he has a perfect wife that loves him dearly, but finds he has eyes for an exotic and unique alien (Kyra) and struggles with the temptation and corresponding guilt for emotions he can't supress; he believes in family but is constantly pulled away from them by duty and career; he is military (kills people) and a surgeon (saves them), etc. To me, John is the 'grey' person, the person most in the story that represents the seeming contradictions and complexities of life where all is not clean and clear and simple but rather a patchwork of choices, some good, some bad. I like that ambiguity in a character.

Q2
John writes in his journal that "After the Kyra Incident" he is losing his moral compass with Cait . In the beginning as we see the two of them together, although John has missions and during that time forgets to some extent, because he has to, those waiting at home, Cait is certain of him and there are those wonderful chapters entitled Magic Pillow and Sun Globe, which along with Cait's expression of the special bond between father and daughter, shows us that John has made certain that though he sometimes is away for long periods at a time, his daughter is completely secure in his love. After The Kiss, things begin to unravel, Ariel finds reason to question whether John still loves them, he forgets to fix the broken pillow and so forth, until eventually (I am of course only skimming the surface here, stating mere facts, which essentially tells us very little of what transpired) he risks more than he can afford to lose in setting out on the rescue mission toward Kyra, Von and Em. While Cait and Kyra are still outside of each others orbit, does Kyra, her gifts, her allure, their shared experiences and common ground, begin to eclipse Cait for John? As Cait tells him before he leaves; "Go, for you can't come back till you go. And I want you back, here, not back there. So go."

Trée: I think eclipse is the wrong concept. I'm not really sure what the right concept or metaphor is to explain what is happening in John's mind and heart. Perhaps a sky with two moons, both glorious as they rise over the horizon of this heart. Not sure that does justice to it either. Keep in mind, John did not go looking for a "Kyra" in his life nor is he clear on what to do with this unexpected turn of events, which is to say, Kyra is more than just another girl, another example of the shades of grey for John. Here is what I mean. Kyra represents several things to John: (1) She represents a person with unique abilities, which reminds him somewhat of himself, someone he can relate to (movie stars marry movie stars so to speak)--a being seen as special, as above others and in that regard means two things to John. First, although Cait is a wonderful woman, she is not John's equal in this regard whereas not only is Kyra John's equal, but as we see as the story unfolds, he begins to understand she is his superior, and this is something he has never experienced, something he never anticipated, something that has blindsided his emotions and he finds this aspect of Kyra very seductive; (2) Kyra has a beauty very different from Cait in most regards (black hair to blond, reserved personality to strong, younger to older, single to married, leader to wife/mother) and John finds himself attractive to a "woman" very appealing and very different from his wife; (3) and the story has only hinted at these things, but there is political turmoil on Kulmyk and the corrupt powers that be are entrenched and strong--Kyra is seen by all as a force multiplier. John has a choice to make, which we will see in an upcoming chapter more clearly, namely, does he abandon his people or does he solicit Kyra to help him in this fight, a fight he can only hope to win with her help. She truly is more powerful than she understands at this stage of her life, although it seems everyone can see her gift and see how it can be used for purposes she has yet to imagine or contemplate. So, the attraction is complicated. And so is the guilt. And try as he might, he cannot separate the complexity into individual threads. The cloth is whole, good and bad, right and wrong. In other words, grey.

Q3
At the point in time referred to in the previous question, Cait is not aware of all the facts. As she tells John, the Commander later explains things to her and as they, she and John, are able to spend some time together, alone, on Bravo, they are reconciled and there is harmony between them once more. What do you think might have been John's thoughts on Kyra and Cait occupying the same space?

Trée: Extremely uneasy, LOL. Emotionally quartered, or the feeling that he was about to be quartered to the words, "and don't spare the horses." And here is the dirty truth that John does not want to admit, may never admit, to himself or anyone else, but it is there. Cait's unfortunate and horrifying death, as tragic as it was, has freed him, in one regard, from the "quartered" emotional situation the "triangle" and fate had placed him. That thought lies fuzzy on the outskirts of his consciousness. He knows it is there, but at this stage, he cannot allow himself to entertain it. But it is not going away and at some point he knows he has to make peace with that terrible thought, to acknowledge that he has thought it and it is true and that he must somehow reconcile it, justify it with the image he has of who he is. How he does that, assuming he can, neither John nor I know. As I like to say, stay tuned. :-)

Q4
Several times throughout The Story you have stepped away so as not to intrude, so it is read, upon moments that have been particularly emotional/painful/personal, incidentally very high on the list of admirable qualities within the writing . What happened to Cait is not unclear, told to us matter-of-factly by Tom and so forth, but we are only now, some several weeks later, seeing John on his own as he lives within his grief. Anyone who has read your work knows that you are exceptionally gifted and if you had so chosen could have taken an audience inside those moments, can you confirm that you have intentionally refrained from intruding on those occasions?
Also, the mark of a great writer is knowing that in order to maintain the interest of the reader, there needs to be desire to learn more, to find the answers to the questions posed within and so it is imperative to a great story that there is plenty of room for the reader to fill in the blanks so to speak. A writer does not need to tell the whole story. Your story is ongoing, the singular events are not always without end, yet as I have often said, for every answer that you give, you provide a multitude of new questions. As an extra question for you to answer if you choose, how much if any thought goes into continually widening the plot?

Trée: Your first question makes me smile in that methinks you give me too much credit. Everything you have said is what very good writers do, or so I've read. I would like to tell you that I have consciously done the same, but that is not true. To be as brutally honest as I can, without deceiving myself, which I am very adroit at doing, when I get to those very intimate and personal moments (the rape of Cait, for example) I feel that I do not have the insight or wisdom to know exactly what was felt or how it could be described. The rape, for example. This is the second time a "rape" has appeared in the story. Since I have never been touched in my life or the lives of those I know by rape, I feel I am on extremely thin ice writing about it. Out of respect for those that have experienced the horror and out of respect for my audience by not filling their head with my uneducated nonsense, I stop. I stop not as a literary technique employed by a "knowing" author, but I stop because I cannot do justice in words to what is happening. If I had been raped and if I knew first hand of the experience, I promise you this, you would see a chapter unlike any other as I would share that experience with all the skill and passion I have to communicate in words. Now, if the unintended benefit is that the reader is allowed to fill in their own blanks and it adds to the enjoyment of the reading, then I will caulk that up to a happy accident. Having said that, I will say that there are times when I fully realize that leaving something unsaid or unwritten in the story is best. I getting better at knowing when to "shut-up" but I still have a long, long way to go.

As to your second question on widening the plot, I'll say this again and I reserve the right to change my mind later as in next month or next year, but I believe that plot is overrated (just my own opinion that I've stated many times in part because there are only so many plots in the world and once you know the "seven" plots everything written can be easily classified and labeled). I'm still open-minded to changing my opinion on plot so if you see me contradict myself somewhere down the road, well, so be it. So, to me, plot is the coat hanger upon which the real work or art is hung. I expand the plot, or the "coat hanger" only to serve the greater purpose of the art, which is to say, to mix my metaphors (something I love doing and do constantly and consciously to the chagrin of english teachers around the world), I use plot as a vehicle to further explore the emotional and psychological landscape of the characters or--and this is heavy on my mind at the moment--I use plot to give me new terra to describe, new settings to paint my characters within. Having most of the action take place on Bravo or another vessel limits my ability to describe the surroundings (one of the reasons I like going back to Hyneria whether it be the beaches of Valla or the scenes at the dock).

Second, and let me refer to Wolfe's first book in the new sun series, perhaps the most influential work I've read with regard to my own view of the art of prose, I can say without any hesitation, again my opinion, that what stays with me, a reader, when the book has been read, is not the plot, not the twist and turns within a story (which is much like a magic trick in that once you know how the trick is performed, it loses its appeal or lasting impact--read plot here) but the skill and art of the author to paint pictures that forever live in my mind and forever change the way I see a thing, an emotion, or the world. For example, Cormac McCarthy's The Road has what one could consider a very, very simple plot: Love of Father for Son. That's it. The whole book revolves around that one idea. Now that you know that, why read the book? I just told you in one sentence what it is about. Yet, the art is not in the vehicle, the plot, the post apocalyptic world the characters inhabit, the art is Cormac's ability to show this love in the wonderfully crafted set pieces embedded in the story. I think I will remember for the rest of my days the scene of the hot chocolate. That is what lasts. Not plot. But the art created with the power of words to shed light on greater truths. A father sacrificing for his son is so beautifully illustrated in the hot chocolate scene by an author at the top of his profession that I just sit back and stare in wonder at what the written word can do, and what it does is beyond plot. I hope that answers your question. ;-)

Q5
Your thoughts, please, however you wish to present them on the chapter entitled Lacrimation.

Trée: I have very mixed emotions in talking about this chapter. I wrote this short piece at the behest of a reader who wanted to see words put to pain, a pain not exactly as what happens in the story (read two different plots here) but a pain that is universal, a pain that knows not the plot of man or woman but just is pain. So, I revisited the rape of Cait, plot as my vehicle, to explore the concept of pain, of fate unfolding beyond our ability to stop or control it, and lastly, and perhaps most importantly, that even in the horrific, there can still be love, that love endures, that love transcends. I leave it to the reader to determine if all the above was accomplished in just two rather short paragraphs.

From a literary point of view, I also had mixed emotions and those emotions are not resolved in my own mind. In other words, I still don't know how I feel and this is what I mean. The scene is a rape. Horrific. Terrifying. Disturbing. Yet, the way it is written, 'poetic prose' is what I would call or label it, almost gives a beauty (in the writing) that is at odds with the subject matter. I didn't know I was doing it when I wrote it. Only later, in looking at the initial comments from readers and rereading the piece the next day, did I almost feel embarrassed that I had taken a rape and wrote in a way that people would use the word beautiful to describe the writing. I almost wanted to write this piece over again and make the writing ugly and brutal and hard to read to reflect more the event. Then again, I remind myself that I wrote this piece as a dedication at the request of a reader and I wanted the gift to be beautiful, to touch a heart without denying the pain, so perhaps I got it right the first time. I suppose time will judge the matter and for that I am content to let it sit. I will say this for the record, the reader for whom it was written commented to the positive in such a way, that the touching of hearts went both ways. And for that, I will forever be grateful, and for that, I can, in my own mind, justify the entire story as to time and effort.