Mesmerizing, amid all the wounds inflicted by the Pooka on his maker; how can a writer write such agony to another?
Interesting too, that when the son of Trellis–an author in his own right–leaves the room, the other characters–Shanahan, Furriskey–insist upon sending the father Trellis back into a scene for more punishment. Rewriting? Editing?
Or is it a reflection of the need in every man to write; the old "I have a book in me" mentality. Clearly though–at least to me–the metaphor. Will Trellis, half-bled out by one fall from a window, bled the rest by yet another, survive his broken body while his mind is still intact? Like Wiley Coyote, he keeps coming back for more.
How shall I take this in my own decisions?
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology