6/29/24

Storytelling was always very important in my family growing up. My mother would tell my sisters and me stories every night that she would make up for us on the fly, no book required. I wish she had written them down because I remember looking forward to bedtime so we could pick up where we’d left off the night before (she was notorious for leaving us with cliffhangers). From there, I would lay in bed and imagine what was going to happen next. It inspired me to begin writing down my own stories; to get lost in my own imaginary worlds.

It was after I graduated college and had to face the reality of paying back student loans, covering rent, car expenses, and the like, that my brain became so consumed with financial security that my imagination just shut down. A solid 401(k) plan and impeccable credit score took precedent. Fear stifled my creativity. 

Not long after I transitioned, nearing 40 and struggling with my mental health, I lost custody of my daughter. I wasn’t sure how I was going to survive the grief and guilt I was suffering from. I would go on long walks, trying to reconnect with my inner child. I let myself get lost in memories of my childhood and found myself wondering what happened to that hopeful, imaginative little girl, and what she would think of her future (now man) self. It was during one of these walks that a Carl Sagan quote popped in my head: 

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand – Carl Sagan, A Pale Blue Dot

I began to imagine a reality where animals decided they were ready to make a stand, so disgusted by what they were seeing unfolding around them: the apathy, the unnecessary hatred, violence, greed, and destruction caused by humans. I began to write their stories, curious about their perspective on the human species, and finding an outlet where I could pour my grief. I wasn’t writing with any intention of publishing but, rather, to remind myself that there is still something worth fighting for (right, LOTR fans?). But as the story unfolded, I realized it was one that needed to be shared. I can’t be the only one feeling this massive shift happening around us. Something has to give.

Storytelling is a powerful tool. It reminds us of how connected we are. Each storyline in my book, from Cadillac to Phillip, to Sam and Sally, carries a part of me and my personal experience living on this pale blue dot. I believe that animals, like us, suffer from grief, loss, and fear, and that they also experience love, hope, and compassion. I hope that others can relate to them because, well, that means that I’m not alone. And that is incredibly comforting.