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4. Art-especially good art-attracts people who would otherwise remain indifferent or even hostile to a cause.  Many has been the time when my opinions have shifted because I've read a skillfully worded argument in favor of ideas I hadn't considered, or because I came across a political cartoon that forced me to see a situation from a different perspective.  There have also been paintings and novels and photographs and poems that have moved me to feel such sympathy toward a group of people that I opened myself to thinking about current and historic plights I'd never paid attention to before.  And even when art isn't made with the intent of inducing rethinking, it might still prompt major changes.  Indeed, art can accomplish so much more than bludgeoning us with messages.  It can give a cause for openheartedness, open-mindedness, and inner exploration.

5. Art is the fountain of youth.  Okay, I know this is sort of moving into the territory of vanity.  But you might have noticed that when you look at people in middle age and beyond, some are haggard.  They seem worn down by the years, and maybe even regretful about the way their lives played out.  But other people are full of energy.  They smile easily, think interesting thoughts, have lively minds, and are fun to talk to.  Now I can't say that every older person with joie de vive has lived a creative life.  But I can say that if you life a creative life, the chances are really good that you'll love life, and that will keep you young at heart.

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I've had a lot of questions over the past few years about how I came up with the idea of Wraith and the Zoë Universe. My standard pulling-it-out-of-my-backside wasn't cutting it anymore, so I figured I'd spill the beans here.

 My secret?

 Shakespeare.

Yep, old Bill is responsible for about ¾ of what's come out of this series. And the other ¼?

My dad.

How? What? Are you high? No. It all came from this quote:

"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." ~William Shakespeare.

My dad gave me that quote during one of our numerous metaphysical conversations growing up.  He was a devout believer in the unknown-and that's how I'd describe him. He never really believed that all angels were good, and all devils were evil, but that circumstances drove them in moments that made them more than heroes, and less than Gods.

My dad believed that all things were flawed, and all things were possible.