Call me Pierce.
Some years ago — never mind how long precisely — having little money and quite a bit more grief and self-loathing than was sensible, I went on a journey to find the love of my life. She would cure me of my ennui and restore my faith in humanity, I thought.
Mystical journeys — they are a way to ward off the unhealthy habits of steady work, prime time television, talk radio, and (un)reality TV. Whenever I find myself drawn to too many hours of reading dead authors and my eyes begin to strain to see simple things, like the smiles of children or the smell of fresh salt air; whenever withdrawing from the world becomes as easy as breathing or drinking cold water in summer; then it is high time for another mystical journey.
To find another lost friend? To find another lost soul? To find the beauty in the world? Shall the first paragraph of a long-dead book become the impetus for yet another journey? The fantastic, majestic, and beautiful call to me once again.
*A heartfelt thank you to Herman Melville and his fantastic novel “Moby Dick” for providing the inspiration for this bit of writing.
The passage was written in the voice of the protagonist from my first novel “The Sage and the Scarecrow”.
The book is out of print (a new edition may be forthcoming in the future). But you can read the first chapter of the book here: