Spring is here. The birds are chirping and it’s easy to be distracted. A friend talked me into the opera Duke Bluebeard's Castle, in Essen Germany. It’s an old coal mining town in the Ruhr Valley with a stunning opera house.
I grew up with a reasonable amount of culture but confess there’s an ocean of difference to being dragged kicking and screaming to the Magic Flute in high school and choosing to see a Hungarian opera on your own volition. It’s a dark Brothers Grimm fairy tale of curiosity and peril. It reminded me of Beauty and the Beast.
This could also be the current theme for Europe. This spring is different. Despite the budding cherry blossoms, the azure beauty of a Venetian sunrise, or the decadence of Austrian pastries there is a wicked tint to the air. In addition to actively seeking out the beautiful things in life, I’m running more and writing less. There’s scant chance of the latter developing into a habit, the fact is most of continental Europe is focusing a wary eye on the barbaric aggression of the Ukraine invasion.
As a family man, and a Texan from a military family, it’s hard to see such scenes of deliberate violence aimed at civilians, especially women and children. It’s a very different visceral feeling on this side of the pond from back home on the American side of the Atlantic.
The cold calculus is America cannot enter direct conflict with a nuclear power unless NATO is attacked. That doesn’t stifle guilt when watching this tragedy unfold not far to the East. My European friends have stopped teasing me about arguing freedom isn’t free.
There’s a brave Ukrainian Member of Parliament I follow on Twitter. She refuses to leave Kyiv and looks like a typical cute midwestern soccer mom. Her salient concerns should be getting her kids to eat more vegetables or trying to fit in date nights with her spouse. Instead, she practices daily with her AK-47, teaches her toddlers their blood types and reveals images of the daily toll from Russian rocket attacks. I’m humbled beyond words.
So, I confess to watching too much CNN, eating too much chocolate, running daily, and hugging my kid as much as possible. I’m still concurrently working on the next Eagle Feather Saga and Shannon books, it just seems less important now.
However, a dear friend and beta reader rebuked me with the ultimate compliment. He asked why Dawn’s Roar and Dodge City were taking longer than expected. I mumbled back something about being busy at work and how crazy the world is right now. He replied, “Exactly, which is why I need the distractions of your stories more than ever.”
Understood, if anyone else feels similar, it’s the least I can do.