Under Joshua’s
Shadow

Author’s Notes: Themes & “Threads”
A fictional story blended with multiple themes and intersections of nature, psychology, religion, philosophy, and mysticism contribute to the novel’s linear, yet rich plot filled with symbolism, and abstract higher meaning — if higher meaning exists. Afterall, it is a dark romance novel, so death may be everyone’s fate, but while alive, we do everything possible to escape its gravity. On a side note, the dark themes are essentially a nod to the 20th century psychological perspectives on the human condition post-World War. That said, I am working on a sequel to break away from those outdated perspectives. There are variable levels of introspection among the characters. Characters attempt to reach beyond or dig deep into themselves as they experience budding desires, grief, floundering purpose, and even transcendent experiences, only to be held back by laws of nature which remind them of their human tolerances as topics of faith and doubt intermingle among denial or ambivalence to stay and let go “without a shadow of a doubt.” There is a lot of subtext and symbolism in the novel. I like to use fabric sewing terms as a metaphor for my writing; hence, terms like “seams” and “topstitch” help describe the invisible imagery underneath. Thus, character development is not always central to the plot. Instead, the plot also unfolds around characters among hidden allegorical images like biblical names, plants and animals, and Jungian archetypes. I find it enjoyable when readers identify their own web of meaning. Invisible threads conceal intangible seams but clearer and ornate topstitches are made visible by how characters process experience and meaning and how characters seek their own personal refuge. Whether character development exists among their symbolic names, archetypes, changes of the seasons, from individual and collective expectations, or from mundane moments to mortal cosmic visions, it is important to understand character development is an interconnected experience in the story. Because traditional exposition should lead to conflict before characters experience change or transformation, I attempt to utilize the traditional structure of Plato’s ladder of love as a method to form narrative structure as characters experience fear and faith. I was also mindful of the logical exposition in storytelling; therefore, linear versus multi-connected realities do compete for space, but the story still unfolds in a sequential way, with minimal use of foreshadowing, flashback, and narrator interference. However, human dreams are a major theme, for it presents subjective moments of consciousness; therefore, there is an intersection between classic sense of order and modern sense of humanist psychology of higher needs. Thus, the adage “be careful what you wish for” is a juxtaposition of what is gained through loss or what is lost with gain. Yet, it is through dreaming, lines between reality and imagination blur as characters define what they wish, but they also discover, through other sorts of “dreams,” something different. Juxtapositions between characters and events represent threads of duality, or contrast between oppositions, and you will notice polarity conveyed in things like mountain altitude(ascent/descent), earth & sky, seasons, liquids, day & night, to more ephemeral images like light/ shadow, color, temperature, which are not necessarily binary, suggesting hierarchy does not play a role in life. Structure is not the rule in nature, as nature does not need religious truth to change what it cannot control, and likewise, organized religion does not need nature to control change. The fact is, the same gravity is always pulling or pushing, and nature evolves within the spectrum of infinite time and space. Once again, another nod, yet also an eye-turn, to the ancient traditional pyramid structure, a sort of Prometheus flame mastering something new to find a way out from darkness or from the weight of inferiority through discover of sublime moments like whimsical images, pink sunsets, orange full moons, sparkly stars, and shiny orange dragonflies which escape structure and hierarchies. Yet ironically structure ultimately serves as memory, but for change to occur, one must burn down memory for change. But when thoughts of “we grew apart or the feeling died” do not disrupt love, then characters need to discern if love is a feeling or a choice. But as much as the human spirit changes for love or in spite of love, a shared space is anchored between lovers within the solidness of earth where deep rooted unspoken privacy, insecurities, and inconsistency are anchored in the ground which create stagnation or perhaps techonomic pressures which test weaknesses. Internal and external natural forces are a pillar in the novel. The weather places pressures on patience; the weather also places pressure on faith. Systems of religion can abuse power. Beauty can become mundane by states of anxiety, grief, poor esteem, or an overthinking sensitive heart yearning for the past during autumn. Despite natural forces on beauty, a beautiful song should never end on a sad note, yet lovers will continue to test each other’s self-worth or worse question their own, as characters seek truth comparing their incongruent relationship dynamics from different frames of mind: A stance on nature from the horse’s mouth versus what is obvious. With that in mind, in the pursuit of building worth, in different locations, characters forget their beginnings and promises. Ironically, the highest love between lovers is trust and compatibility — not fear and perfection. Despite the dark romance tone and tension between salvation(perfection) and integration (alignment), I attempted to avoid anti-beauty in the backdrop of the story to influence character inspirational growth, so despair would not anchor them down, as their development of self-intuition pushes the plot forward; however, intuition cannot fix everything, so I certainly did not aim to have characters solve all problems or answer all questions. Each character poses variable degrees of agency to learn how to love their inner landscape just as much as they admire their outer landscape. Inevitably, we swim in a sea of over-the-moon moments and regretful experiences in search of a promise like a transactional guarantee, only to find oneself alone or unsuccessful at the end — after the guarantee has expired. Despite polarities and plot twists, characters do possess self-aware identities and life history. It was my attempt to write a story apart from the typical queer male genre often about coming out within a landscape of sex, drugs, and rock-n- roll in replace of a story about queer spirituality and growth. Therefore, sexual identity is not used as spectacle; it is used to enhance intimacy separated by walls of incarceration within the context of individual growth and partnership, and how the two interplay within separateness. Individual transformation can break but it does not necessarily mean a relationship is broken; it simply requires more mending and healing — a sort of restorative justice for love. The question is, in this novel, will justice prevail?