For the past few weeks I feel like I've been regrouping, inside my head, and trying to figure out where to go next. For a long, unappealing time, it looked like where I was going was away from fiction writing, and that made me pretty sad. I felt pretty listless and depressed, unsure who I was anymore. I guess I needed some time away from the whole writing grind for a while, so I could come back to it and not think of it as a grind.

And then, last night, I got a phone call from my mom that put it all into perspective. Long story short, two teenagers from my hometown, children of people I went to high school with, were killed in a car accident. What sounds like a simple case of someone looking the wrong way at the wrong time. And two lives, ended, and many more lives devastated.

Before we had Drew, I think I would've been able to shake this off better and continue on with life, and writing. But now I can imagine -- why do I have to even think about this? -- how those parents must feel right now. I want to wrap Drew up and keep him home, safe, forever. I hope Elizabeth and I will raise him properly so he doesn't ever try to drive drunk or recklessly, or get into a car with kids who are doing that. But how do I stop from thinking about the accidents like the one that happened last weekend in my hometown? There's no way to control such things. Just think about how many close calls you've had, times you've had to slam on the brakes just in the nick of time. Because you weren't paying attention.

I know I just have to let it go and trust in Drew and the universe, but it's hard. You start to realize the real tragedy at the root of all good literature -- of life itself -- and it makes you almost stop breathing with fear. How can I write with such events in the world?

And then I realize: How can I not?

So much to learn and share and teach and embrace, in words and deeds and simply living. We all have a finite time on this world. We have to say what we need to say.

I just hope those families can cope with their loss. I fear that I'd never be able to recover. And I'm angry that such a thing could happen in this world.