“Creation” is one story I've written that regularly puts tears in my eyes when I return to it. I'm not sure what that means, but it's not something I say about every story I've written.
I wrote the story in 2020, over the summer. Whether the worries about Covid that were so salient at the time had any part in my idea for the story… well, I kind of doubt it. It's less a story about the fear of death than one about love and trust in life. About trusting life enough to be willing to accept the blows that come with life. It might be the clearest and most succinct summary of my basic concerns as a writer.
“Creation” is a simple enough story. A pair of eternal beings called Life and Death (or Light and Darkness) decide to have a universe together. Life is eager to jump into the process, but Death (our narrator) has serious doubts–how can we presume to create this universe when we know how much pain and suffering will come with it?
It's a personally resonant idea, at least for me as its author. Whether these two characters have a right to create anything in light of the complications that inevitably arise. It's a question that any responsible deity ought to at least consider before creating a universe, any pair of humans before bringing a child into the world, and any artist or other sort of creator before making what they have it in themselves to create.
The dynamic of hope and fear that Life and Death have is something that takes place inside the soul of every creator. Life thinks it's wonderful and Death counts the cost. There's always that criticizing internal voice–who do you think you are? Do you think you, with all your flaws, deserve to make or build anything at all? Do you really think you're strong enough to deal with all the changes and pressures your act of creation will… create?
Life has no answer for Death here, rationally speaking. Every life they create together will be a corpse someday. But Life's answer comes in the form of a repeated promise throughout the narrative: “It will be worth it.”
Ultimately, when Death agrees to create the universe, it's out of love for Life. Love, trust, and admiration for this enthusiastic being who can't explain, can't give an account for how it will be worth it… but who nonetheless promises that it will be.
Which I think is something we all run up against in our own lives. The idea that if you run the utilitarian calculus on any life, you'll find it's composed of more pain and boredom than exaltation. But life calls us to rise up beyond that kind of narrow calculation, to expand beyond ourselves and release what's in us to be released. All because of some vague promise we can't quite understand, all because it touches something deeper inside us than ourselves. All because we hear that promise, and we believe, and we hope it's true.
That it will be worth it.
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(The Invisible Woman and Other Stories is available on Amazon.)
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