Ask the Author: A.G. Mock
Answered Questions (2)
A.G. Mock
THE LITTLE WOODS of my debut novel are real. The nearby wooded enclave called the Beechnut is also real. As is the small, idyllic neighborhood nestled innocently at their beckoning edge.
I find it worth sharing that nearly all who spent their childhood there have not only moved away, but moved very far away. Cast like grains of salt across the earth, the places where most of my friends now call home are invariably thousands of miles from the Little Woods. For me, I couldn't seem to get far enough away. In my own exodus, I chose to traverse an entire ocean to live and work in the United Kingdom. (Amazingly, I later came to learn that one of my closest friends from the neighborhood had made precisely the same migration.)
So, the names of the wooded enclaves and mystical childhood landmarks in my story will likely have eroded from use in the real world, as the very few who had ascribed them have long ago drifted far, far away.
The result is that only a very small handful of people today actually know about the Little Woods you shall soon enter, as well as its real location. For those individuals, the memory of that dark and pervasive wood will undoubtedly elicit a convoluted mix of intense emotions, from affectionate sentiment to gut-wrenching anxiety.
I am one of them.
After reading this book, I hope you will be, too.
While the story is fully a work of fiction, some of the incidents portrayed within are inspired by events which actually took place, in some form or other, in or around 1977.
I will leave it to you to decide which.
This novel, and the two that follow in the New Apocrypha trilogy, are therefore borne from a troubling and lifelong lack of understanding as to why so many tragedies befell what, by outward appearances, seemed a genuinely paradisiacal place to grow up. From chronic, debilitating illness to premature deaths, alleged arson to suicide, our tightly-knit community experienced an onslaught of tragedies far exceeding statistical probability for a neighborhood of such minuscule size.
So, if you were to ask me if Evil actually exists—a nebulous, invisible but ubiquitous force able to exert influence upon, and change forever, the lives of those who encounter it—I ask you, new friend, to read on.
Perhaps the story about to unfold will resound in your soul as deeply as it does mine. If I've done my job well, the next time you go for a trek in the woods you might just hesitate, if only for the briefest moment, as your soul conjures an echo of our time together in the pages that follow.
And please remember, any resemblance to persons living or dead is a matter of coincidence as all characters and events portrayed herein are of my own tortured imagination. They are not mere aliases fabricated to protect the innocent . . . . Or the others.
So now it's time!
Come with me, and we'll head into the darkness together.
After all, you're not afraid to come play in the woods, are you . . . ?
Spookily Yours,
A.G. Mock
I find it worth sharing that nearly all who spent their childhood there have not only moved away, but moved very far away. Cast like grains of salt across the earth, the places where most of my friends now call home are invariably thousands of miles from the Little Woods. For me, I couldn't seem to get far enough away. In my own exodus, I chose to traverse an entire ocean to live and work in the United Kingdom. (Amazingly, I later came to learn that one of my closest friends from the neighborhood had made precisely the same migration.)
So, the names of the wooded enclaves and mystical childhood landmarks in my story will likely have eroded from use in the real world, as the very few who had ascribed them have long ago drifted far, far away.
The result is that only a very small handful of people today actually know about the Little Woods you shall soon enter, as well as its real location. For those individuals, the memory of that dark and pervasive wood will undoubtedly elicit a convoluted mix of intense emotions, from affectionate sentiment to gut-wrenching anxiety.
I am one of them.
After reading this book, I hope you will be, too.
While the story is fully a work of fiction, some of the incidents portrayed within are inspired by events which actually took place, in some form or other, in or around 1977.
I will leave it to you to decide which.
This novel, and the two that follow in the New Apocrypha trilogy, are therefore borne from a troubling and lifelong lack of understanding as to why so many tragedies befell what, by outward appearances, seemed a genuinely paradisiacal place to grow up. From chronic, debilitating illness to premature deaths, alleged arson to suicide, our tightly-knit community experienced an onslaught of tragedies far exceeding statistical probability for a neighborhood of such minuscule size.
So, if you were to ask me if Evil actually exists—a nebulous, invisible but ubiquitous force able to exert influence upon, and change forever, the lives of those who encounter it—I ask you, new friend, to read on.
Perhaps the story about to unfold will resound in your soul as deeply as it does mine. If I've done my job well, the next time you go for a trek in the woods you might just hesitate, if only for the briefest moment, as your soul conjures an echo of our time together in the pages that follow.
And please remember, any resemblance to persons living or dead is a matter of coincidence as all characters and events portrayed herein are of my own tortured imagination. They are not mere aliases fabricated to protect the innocent . . . . Or the others.
So now it's time!
Come with me, and we'll head into the darkness together.
After all, you're not afraid to come play in the woods, are you . . . ?
Spookily Yours,
A.G. Mock
A.G. Mock
With PUB DAY for 'The Little Woods' right around the corner, I'm currently working on 'The Watchers: Book Two of the New Apocrypha' with an eye on releasing in the Fall!
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