Apocalypse

I’m in love with Apocalypse. Not Apocalypse as it’s first definition, “complete final destruction of the world.” Just the idea of a huge, catastrophic change. The world as it becomes something new with pieces of something old. Not any Apocalypse in particular, either. All of them.

Give me plague or some other depopulation bomb, that’s what I want to think about, and read about, and talk about, and write about.

I wrote a (horrible) short story years ago about a future in which domestic cats took over and became the dominant species. Humans live in little highly defended camps and hunt cats for food while the cats are hunting them. Laughable? Yes. But I eat that kind of idea up.

My longest work, The Tiger? After the Apocalypse. So far that the main character doesn’t even know the world was different from how it is in her present. I love that idea.

My collaborative work, Return to the Sea? Apocalypse. Humanity needs to retreat to an underwater complex when the surface becomes uninhabitable.

Give me normal people out of their normal contexts. What better way to see what we are and how we relate to our world than to take us out of it and see what happens?

From my favorite authors? Kurt Vonnegut’s The Sirens of Titan, and Cat’s Cradle. The Stand, by Stephen King. Give me more of that. I love that.

I’ve been working on a little series of short shorts. Just little pieces from an after-the-end world. Everyone in the world except for a relatively microscopic amount of people disappeared in the middle of the night. Just poof. Gone. The remaining people don’t know why anyone was taken, or why they were left behind. They don’t know anything. They’re just there, in a now-empty world. I love that idea.

Do you love Apocalypse as much as I do? What I’ve got so far is here.