On a Sunday afternoon, while enjoying an afternoon at a museum, I was amused hearing onlookers extrapolate meaning from an abstract painting. Looking at the randomly colored triangles, I wondered whether the artist had similar thoughts as their patrons. Similarly, a discussion of the tea party in Alice in Wonderland and its political subtext, left me wondering whether Lewis Carroll was at the same depths as his readers.

As I start working on the fourth installment of Superhighway, I’m the one behind the brush. Weaving themes into my novel is like planning a treasure hunt for the readers. Yet, despite my ability to control the narrative and set traps, I believe the ultimate power of the written word doesn’t belong to the author. Indeed, readers’ imaginations and lived experiences infuse the equation with virtually limitless depth and scope of interpretation. It’s kind of like sex. Yeah, I said it! I’m about to compare creative writing to sex—you should really consider reading Superhighway. A fully naked body is never as sexy as one that’s partially concealed. Similarly, when an author communicates with the written word, much is left to interpretation. The words on the page fit into the reader’s perception of the universe, creating a depth-defying kaleidoscope of connotations. When people say that a pen is mightier than the sword, the statement is closer to the truth than one may think because the written word always benefits from its ultimate weapon—the reader’s mind.