NOVEL FATHERS
It's entirely possible that I entered into my wrestling match with the novel form––something that took up more hours between 1999 and 2014 than I can comprehend––because it felt like the best way to wrestle with my father, and with the idea of fatherhood itself....
It's entirely possible that––since daddylabyrinth has done a better job of shaking loose my fears of my father (and of fatherhood) than any novel ever could––I don't really need to write any more novels....
What then? One of my longest-held conceptions of myself would be shattered. Should I slip back into the primordial ooze between the genres, where I came from and where I will probably always belong? It's tempting. But the novel will always pull me, just as father-wrestling will always pull me. The question then becomes: Will I pull back at it? Will I just let the novel go, at least for a while
until my sons are so much older
than I was when my father died
that I no longer see any resemblance
between them
and my broken childhood self?
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