Born and raised in New York City, I’d visited the World Trade Center a few times. Later on, as a partner in a Los Angeles law firm, I attended annual seminars my firm put on there each spring. Clients of mine worked in that building, some of whom didn’t survive.
Safe at home in Southern California, I watched the tragedy unfold. A deadline I had to meet required my presence downtown, so after two hours of sadness and outrage I drove to my office to do some work.
On the way, the L.A. police chief came on the radio to urge everyone who worked downtown to stay away. The concern was that a plane might smash into one of L.A.’s skyscrapers. Although I was only a mile away from the office, I dutifully turned my car around and headed home. That’s when this thought popped into my head: “Our world needs a new god who’s a planetary turnaround specialist.”
Even today, I don’t know where that idea came from. Religion and I parted ways in my childhood. Although I know what a corporate turnaround specialist is, a planetary one wasn’t something my practical-minded sensibility would conjure up. Nonetheless, the concept of a planetary turnaround specialist replacing Earth’s god took root somewhere in the deeper recesses of my brain. Over the ensuing years I must’ve subconsciously fleshed out that story seed. By 2014, when it dawned on me that retirement was no longer far off, I decided to try my hand at writing fiction.
