Zipping Through the Grid: Musings on the Road to Georgia
The world narrows down to a ribbon of asphalt and the steady hum of tires against the earth, but tonight, the horizon feels entirely limitless.
Right now, we are chasing the dark south toward Georgia, cutting directly through the heart of Knoxville. Looking out the window, the city lights bloom against the ink black sky like a massive, glowing circuit board. In the quiet cabin of the car, surrounded by the soft breathing of my family, I feel incredibly small—a tiny ant lost in the machinery, or a lone program zipping down the digital interstate of Tron.
There is a strange, Gothic beauty to a highway at night, especially beneath a new moon. With no light from above, the shadows stretch long and heavy outside the glass, swallowing the familiar Tennessee hills and replacing them with a vast, velvet void. In this deep, welcoming dark, the ordinary rules of time and space seem to bend. The hours ahead of us don’t feel like a tedious delay; they feel like a liminal space where anything is possible, a quiet sanctuary before the chaos of dawn.
It is the perfect atmosphere for creation. With the world cloaked in pitch black I’ve been channeling the energy of the road in my new novel, Ethics of a Monster. There is something profoundly cathartic about writing dark, intense scenes while physically moving through the darkness of the world. It feels as though the shadows outside are bleeding right into the pages, giving life to the monsters we build in the quiet corners of our minds.
But the true magic of this nocturnal drive isn’t just the scenery or the prose. Tucked safely in the back is a very special cargo.
I am on my way to hand-deliver a custom PR package to my very first Advanced Review Copy (ARC) reader. Holding that book in my hands—knowing the months of solitary creation, the ink, the shadows, and the secret worlds poured into its pages—and realizing it is about to exist in the hands of someone else is an indescribable feeling. It makes the vastness of the world feel a little less intimidating, and a lot more magical.
We still have hours of black asphalt ahead of us, watched over by a quiet moon. But as we fly past the city lights and dive back into the deep, welcoming dark, I’ve never felt more alive. The grid is open, the road is ours, and the story is just beginning.
Until the next destination, may your night be filled with beautiful shadows and limitless inspiration.
With Love & Shadows,
