Some of my best writing (or so I’ve been told) is very, very dark. But I don’t write like that to evoke a visceral thrill like horror writers do. I’m trying to write truth, and I think truthful humanity is beautiful. This one poured out of me in about two hours, then I put it aside for a few months and fixed the parts that didn’t work.

I’m happy to hear it’s going to stick. Because the story I told is real, even though it’s really fiction. Nick is everywhere. He could be your son or mine, and we might not even know.

And what about Noah? What’s he going through? I didn’t share his point of view, but I thought about it as I wrote. What drove him to betray his friend in a way that invites no forgiveness?

Oh, and “Nick and Noah?” That’s an easter egg for anyone paying attention. ;-)