As someone who has traveled a lot in previous years, it’s hard not to compare to the experience it is today. Flying isn't what it used to be. In years past, I found it to be fun, even relaxing, before upped expenses (fees for a carry-on, come on!), hyper security where you don’t know until the last second (or when someone shouts at you) whether you've been shuffled into the line to remove your shoes and reveal your electronics (as if you’re not juggling enough) or the section where you can keep everything in place. Such confusion where things can change overnight (thanks again, terrorists), and now we have the newly added Ebola pre-screening (oh, joy). Someone just has to sniffle and my growing eyes zoom in to deeply scrutinize the condition of my co-traveler.
When I had toured with a music and dance ensemble, our road manager – a regular den mother – prepared for us individual treat bags created with care, special treats reminiscent of childhood. I've come a long way since then. From spoiled to cutthroat. No longer able to take snack bags, food, or bottled water through security (not to mention more than a button of toothpaste), one is forced to purchase those items on the other side of security (if you get there). This is something akin to a movie theater experience, the privilege of highly inflated food service once “you’re in.”
Oh, I remember some my first class experiences fondly. Freedom to spread out or curl up in a big seat, a much-too-hot moist towelette I never knew what to do with. Meals! Remember when we got those? I now fly on a coach-only airline with festival seating because my former preferred airlines, one-by-one, have dropped from my expectations list. And because my now favorite airline seems to prove the most consistent keeper of schedule, doesn't charge exorbitant rates, the cabin crew is ALWAYS chipper, helpful, and downright entertaining (I bet this is how a few stand-up comedians got their start). This isn't a plug for a particular airline with a name consisting of two cardinal directions put together, one of them being “South,” but a fact that causes all the mounted tension before boarding the plane seem to melt. So if you have to fly…
When I’m safely back home in the comfort of an oversized living room chair where I sink into the cushions like an exhale, I decide, strangely, that I’d like to travel again. This time, visit another country. Select a book, open the cover. Mental travel… Ah, flying is better than it used to be.
Some authors know right away in what genre they’ll write and the audience for whom they’ll work hard to prepare manuscripts. I admire those authors who stick with one heading, for I've always had trouble classifying my writing…a little this, a little that. When a particular interview gave me fodder for a little on-the-spot transformation (talk about impromptu), what I had planned to say was never said, yet the things I hadn't planned to say seemed to have already been spoken.
“What do you write?” the inquirer asked.
Something more categorically concrete should have come out of my mouth, such as romance, or political intrigue, or fantasy, but before I could formulate those thoughts the answer readily answered for me. It was already there. “I write forgiveness.”
“What does that mean? Who do you write for?”
Forgiveness literature is something that spans across all of humanity, regardless of where we tread in life. In that sense, I suppose I write for everyone. At the same time, I don’t think I write for everyone. My books wouldn't appeal to someone, say, who only wants fiction like their eggs, light and fluffy—not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Whatever the genre, the common thread for my writing is forgiveness. Forgiveness brings healing. That’s my focal point. There is much in this world that is broken. I don’t know why but I see it so much of the time, awareness that things, situations, people are hurting or distressed. Things need fixed. Forgiveness is like a fragrant balm that lingers, constantly reminding me that without it there would be no classification. Without it I’m not sure I’d write romance, or political intrigue, or fantasy, or anything at all. I write forgiveness fiction. The rest works itself out.
“People forgiven much are called to forgive much.”
“When we forgive…we free ourselves.”
—Pastor Brad Brinson