“ Pax,” Alva said.

“Yes?”

“ This might not be important to you right now, but you did insist that I tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“ Quad seven grass—it’s about to start.”

A smile grew across Pax’s lips. “Thanks, Alva.”

Pax released Ellis’s hand and took out the portal device.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re going to the grass, to my favorite place in the world—Quad seven.”

“What’s in Quad seven?”

With a single touch, Pax called up the portal, proving the location was preset.

“Pax? What’s in Quad seven?”

Pax continued to smile. “Follow me.”

The two walked through the portal into an open field of lush, knee-high grass and beautiful purple flowers. Soaring high above, and to either side, were dramatic cliffs—sheer faces of chiseled granite thrusting up out of a tranquil meadow. Slender white lines of waterfalls plummeted to a valley floor that was ringed in tall pines. The place was oddly familiar. He had looked at this scene nearly every day, but this was the first time he’d ever seen it in color.

Ansel Adams was a great photographer, but the photo that had hung in Ellis’s garage for years didn’t begin to do the scene justice. Standing in the meadow, he felt small and grand at the same time. To experience something of such majesty took his breath away more than the fibrosis ever had. But that wasn’t all. Overhead, the vast sky was a cauldron of clouds. Giant thunderheads rolled and billowed, dark and voluminous. The birch trees, whose trunks were stark white lines against the charcoal, green, and purple clouds, swayed in a strong gusting wind.

A flash of lightning arced, and Ellis realized there was something ancient about thunderstorms, some primordial connection to the human spirit. Awe-inspiring by sheer size and power, this had always been at least one face of God.

Thunder cracked, and Ellis felt the bass pass through him, felt it shudder the earth. The effect was amazing, and he couldn’t help being thrilled, couldn’t help smiling.

“A lot of people think trees are sentient,” Pax said, watching the birches sway. “I, on the other hand, knowthey are. And they’re incredible. I love being here with them at times like this. Watching them in the wind, feeling what they feel. It’s like they’re dancing. Showing us what to do—what we should be doing.”

“Dancing?”

“Try it.” Pax took hold of his hands and began to sway.

Ellis felt foolish. Pax clearly didn’t.

Arms outstretched, face raised to the sky, Pax began to twirl as the first raindrops hit them. “You see, Ellis Rogers, I don’t just hear thoughts of people. I feel everything—all of it. Every living cell out here. Every blade of grass, every leaf, every flower, ladybug, deer, rabbit, and mouse. I knowthe joy of every parched root rejoicing with nature’s gift.” Pax pulled off the bowler hat and shouted to the sky, “I just love rain days!”

Afterword

Hollow Worldis a story I never meant to write. At any given time I have seven or eight novels sitting in a queue waiting their turn, and Hollow Worldwasn’t one of them. It started out because of an anthology called The End—Visions of Apocalypseedited by N. E. White. Nila runs writing contests on sffworld and wanted to put out an anthology to showcase some new writers. She asked me and a few other established authors to act as anchors in the hopes of a wider readership. I wrote a short story called “Greener Grass”. It told the tale of an embittered, angry man who goes forward in time to find an utopia, but since the world he finds is so different than the values he believes in (God and country) to him it’s the worst possible future. I won’t spoil what happens to him (in case you want to read the short story) but when I had finished it, I realized it really didn’t fit the concept of The End Anthology. I went on to write another short story for that anthology, “Burning Alexandria” and now I had this short story left over.

I showed “Greener Grass” to my wife and a few writer friends, and they all loved it. They wanted more…and I had more to say. Many of the concepts from Hollow Worldwere thoughts that had been floating in my head for decades and just didn’t have the right place to come out. As I worked on other projects, ideas for Hollow Worldkept coming to me. I’d jot them down in my notebook and try to keep focused on the book I was writing at the time.

The next book on my queue was Rhune. This is the first novel in a three-book series: The First Empire, a new fantasy series based in the distant past of the world or Elan (setting for my Riyria Revelations and Riyria Chronicles). My thought was that those books should sell well, as they have an established readership who has already expressed an interest in that plot line. Writing Rhune was the smart thing to do. But I’m pretty much known for notdoing what is smart when it comes to my writing career.

Hollow Worldwas a huge risk. It was in a different genre, and one whose readership had been dwindling over the years. A quick look at the publishing landscape made it clear that the only science fiction books that were selling well were those of an established franchise like Star Warsor Halo, space opera, and military science fiction. This book was none of those. Not to mention it touched on subjects that people argue over constantly: liberal versus conservative, gay rights, religion, and God. There are plenty of ideologies in this book that people will feel strongly about, and I’m sure many people will hate the book, and possibly me, for some of the things expressed within its covers. But none of that could diminish my desire to write this story.

While we are on the subject of ideologies, I’m sure several people will infer what they believe are my opinions on any number of topics. They’re probably almost certainly wrong. As a writer, I spend a great deal of time imagining myself in others people shoes and I’ve been known to argue one side of an argument over a few beers, and once I’ve convinced my drinking buddy to agree with my position, I turn around and argue the opposite side and bring him right back to where they started. It’s an annoying habit, but it can be fun.

In my book Rise of EmpireRoyce Melborn is arguing with Hadrian Blackwater about the notion of absolutes. They are discussing how an object (in this case a dagger) appears differently when viewed from different perspectives. Hadrian concludes that neither perception is correct, but Royce has a different take: that both are right. He goes on to say, “One truth doesn’t refute another. Truth doesn’t lie in the object, but in how we see it.” In other words, two people can have completely different opinions and yet they can both be “right.” The problem, as I see it, is that most believe that if they are “right” then the other opinion must be “wrong.” I believe in dualities.

But getting back to the writing of Hollow World, from a logical point of view, I shouldn’t have written it. I knew it would be a tough sell to publishers, and it may never find an audience. But I don’t care. I love the way the book came out and if the only people who ever love it are my wife and myself, well then that’s enough for me.

After reading the book my agent told me she loved it (okay so that’s three, but in some respects she is paid to love my work), and then she said what I already knew, which is it will be a hard sell. If she could get an offer, it wouldn’t be for much. No new news there. She sent the book to Orbit. My editor echoed Teri’s opinion…“Great book. No market. We’ll have to pass…and oh, by the way, why isn’t Michael working on the next fantasy series?”

In many ways the rejection was a relief. I had been wanting to do some self-publishing for a while. This isn’t to say I’m turning my back on traditional publishing…remember I’m a believer in dualities. And while much of the publishing landscape is waging a religious war between traditional and self-publishing, I probably understand better than most (because I’ve done both) that there are pros and cons to each. Truth be told, I had every intention on self-publishing The Riyria Chronicles but Orbit’s offer was more than I thought I could make through self-publishing, so I signed a contract for it.