WHY DID I WRITE VIOLENT NIGHT?
The genesis for this version of the Apocalypse has been part of me since the beginning. My earliest memories date back to when I was about four years old, yet the memory of that day was there even then. As I grew older, I began to realize that this particular memory I possessed—the time, the people, the places, even the smells and the music—was of a place and time I had not witnessed. Many of the things about this memory, which were new in 1961, appeared old to me in the memory. I remembered music that would not be released until decades later. On several occasions I searched in vain among the “oldies” for a title I eventually found in the current Top 40.
The day of the Apocalypse left a strong impression. Nowadays I think of it more like an epic movie that I’m dying to see again, but when I look on my video shelf, I know it was never made. I remember it like I’ve seen it a thousand times, yet I learn to experience it again. I have scores of books and movies that come as close as I can get. Disaster flicks like Earthquake, Twister, Airport. I have the “Left Behind” series, and the prequels to the “Left Behind” series. Oddly enough, none of the Apocalypse films: Armageddon, Seventh Sign, End of Days, etc. capture anything significant about this coming great event.
My desire to revisit the day of my memory—the end of the worldly days and the beginning of God’s new world—remained unsatisfied. So I put it in a novel and named it VIOLENT NIGHT. I long to feel the suspense of knowing it’s coming, the wild ride that is the event itself, and the ultimate joy and peace in the new world beyond.
If I had one wish, should I die before that day comes in real life, it would be to see the VIOLENT NIGHT movie… again.
The genesis for this version of the Apocalypse has been part of me since the beginning. My earliest memories date back to when I was about four years old, yet the memory of that day was there even then. As I grew older, I began to realize that this particular memory I possessed—the time, the people, the places, even the smells and the music—was of a place and time I had not witnessed. Many of the things about this memory, which were new in 1961, appeared old to me in the memory. I remembered music that would not be released until decades later. On several occasions I searched in vain among the “oldies” for a title I eventually found in the current Top 40.
The day of the Apocalypse left a strong impression. Nowadays I think of it more like an epic movie that I’m dying to see again, but when I look on my video shelf, I know it was never made. I remember it like I’ve seen it a thousand times, yet I learn to experience it again. I have scores of books and movies that come as close as I can get. Disaster flicks like Earthquake, Twister, Airport. I have the “Left Behind” series, and the prequels to the “Left Behind” series. Oddly enough, none of the Apocalypse films: Armageddon, Seventh Sign, End of Days, etc. capture anything significant about this coming great event.
My desire to revisit the day of my memory—the end of the worldly days and the beginning of God’s new world—remained unsatisfied. So I put it in a novel and named it VIOLENT NIGHT. I long to feel the suspense of knowing it’s coming, the wild ride that is the event itself, and the ultimate joy and peace in the new world beyond.
If I had one wish, should I die before that day comes in real life, it would be to see the VIOLENT NIGHT movie… again.
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