Some kind folks have gently expressed concern about the content of that last post. They feared the language and emotional candor might be off-putting to someone encountering my writing for the first time.

That is a very fair criticism, and one I take seriously. Looking back at the post, I have said nothing I feel ashamed of. The words were used in the context of anecdote, not in a contemptuous way. Though I have obliterated most of the story’s details, those words – and how I felt about them – stand out starkly. That was the point: that one’s memory of facts can be mistaken; that one’s memory of feeling remains clear; and that maybe that’s what feeling is for. That idea informs the very heart of Seraphina, but without the story to support it, it’s not very interesting to anyone but me.

Maybe it isn’t interesting to anyone but me even with the story, but that’s another question.

If the language in my Origins II post made you think you’d walked onto the set of a daytime talk show – and that I’d start throwing chairs next – I’m sorry. While I suspect most of my readers are people who have known me for many years, I realize guests might show up at any time. I’ll try harder to keep my muddy boots off the furniture.

If you’re worried that all the posts are going to be that emotional, don’t be. That was an extraordinary event; I don’t go around having epiphanies about the nature of my own mind every day. I certainly don’t get in fights every day.

But here’s something to consider: my profession consists of taking all my disparate thoughts, experiences, observations, sensations, and feelings, and synthesizing them into something new. Emotions are a tool of my profession. There will be discussion of emotions here if I am to talk about what I do, just like the bricklayer’s blog – one assumes – is full of references to bricks.

And I want to talk about what I do, because I think it’s interesting. Luckily for you, I think a lot of other things are interesting too.