Blog Archives
Grandfather and Grandson
The Corridor follows a grandfather with vast knowledge of the Blue Ridge Mountains who sets out on a mission alongside his teenage grandson to document a wildlife corridor threatened by a resort development. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
I really wanted to do a reverse mentorship piece. I live in the Blue Ridge Mountains, and I see all the time grandfathers showing grandchildren the nature that surrounds us here. I thought it would be fun to explore a different type of relationship. One where Ellias, the grandson, takes exception to Richard, the grandfather’s, lack of motivation on saving the wildlife corridor, even when he has economic reasons, property values, and the knowledge to save it. This shift happens not only in Ellias’ familiarity with social media and technology but also in motivating Richard to do something. This is a wonderful dynamic between grandfather and grandson.
Richard’s emotional arc is so understated but powerful. How did you approach writing a character whose growth happens through small shifts rather than dramatic revelations?
That is something I like to present while writing. I think it’s important for writers to engage their readers by not presenting the obvious but to deliver it in such a way that it’s believable, and hopefully they understand this the way you did.
Nature writing can sometimes overpower character, but here, landscape and psychology feel inseparable. How did you balance the two?
That’s a great question. And the answer is that I see daily the subtle balance between people and nature. I see a family of black bears crossing the street, and people stop their cars, being very respectful to let them pass. Pulling their phones out recording the encounter. It truly is magical, and while writing, I can’t help but bring that perspective. And I’m happy that you noticed.
If Richard and Eli met again ten years later, what do you think each would have taught the other by then?
Ah, you are skipping ahead. The Corridor is the first book in a 6-book (novelette) series…stay tuned.
The Corridor
The Corridor, by William Klenk, follows Richard, a solitary grandfather whose knowledge of the Blue Ridge mountains is rooted in decades of bodily attention, and Eli, his withdrawn teenage grandson, who arrives carrying family trouble and a school assignment. What begins as a quiet stay in the mountains becomes a shared effort to document a wildlife corridor threatened by a resort development. Richard brings memory, fieldcraft, and lived intimacy with the land; Eli brings maps, cameras, data, and a stubborn belief that proof can still matter. Together, they learn that seeing is not always enough: sometimes the world needs evidence before it will listen.
I was drawn most to the book’s restraint. Its emotional engine is not built from melodrama but from small exchanges: a repaired hinge, a shared trail, a laptop turned across a kitchen table, a handshake that changes weight by the end. Richard’s interior life feels especially strong because the prose lets his certainty erode slowly, like weather on stone. The book understands that aging is not only a loss; it can also be a late apprenticeship in humility. Eli, meanwhile, never becomes a convenient symbol of youth or technology. He’s wounded, practical, observant, and quietly brave in the unflashy way of someone deciding to care again.
The book’s central tension between presence and documentation was entertaining. Richard knows the land because he has inhabited it; Eli protects it because he can translate it into a language that institutions recognize. It doesn’t worship data or romanticize intuition. It lets both be partial, both necessary. The environmental stakes give the plot shape, but the deeper subject is intergenerational repair: the fragile corridor between people, not just animals, and the work required to keep it open.
Readers who like environmental fiction, coming-of-age fiction, family drama, and nature writing will really enjoy this novel. And readers who like quiet, character-driven stories about land, kinship, and moral attention will find a lot to reflect on. I would place The Corridor near the gentler, contemplative side of Barbara Kingsolver, especially in its belief that ecology and family systems echo one another. It’s a brief book, but it has a patient pulse and a clean moral weather.
Pages: 25
A Beautiful Direction
Hug Whispers Between Worlds follows a stalled 28-year-old man who drifts between self-doubt, family pressure, and a difficult love relationship until he meets a gnome who helps him face hard truths. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
Current events. I was in the business world, and I empathise with what the twentythirty-year-olds are going through. College for four years and all of a sudden they’re back to the starting gate because of AI–a difficult situation for sure, but not insurmountable.
Did you imagine this novel as magical realism from the beginning, or did the magic emerge naturally as Tim’s story took shape?
It really just happened. I remember writing the outdoor bonfire scene and thinking, “Now what?” And thoughts of Tim going near the water by the dock and finding a waist-high Gnome named Hug just seemed to make sense. It just took on a beautiful direction.
The family scenes feel uncomfortably real for many readers. How important was it to capture that quiet emotional tension?
I lived it too, so I can understand. It was one of the keys because that’s why Tim was so hyper-focused on changing his situation. This is the first of, at least, three books, so you will see how all of this plays out. Very exciting!
What do you hope readers feel when they close the final page?
Feel good. There is enough bad stuff going on now, I don’t want to contribute to it. I always want to leave the reader uplifted and hopefully provide a change in perspective about their current situation. Tim had the motivation all along; all he needed was someone, or a Gnome, help him look at his situation a little differently. That’s when the magic happens!
Hug Whispers Between Worlds
Hug Whispers Between Worlds follows Tim, a twenty–eight–year–old drifting between self-doubt, stalled ambition, and the quiet weight of family expectations. His life feels stuck until a strange encounter at his grandparents’ mountain lake house introduces him to Hug, a gnome who slips in and out of reality with riddles that cut deeper than they should. The book blends everyday frustration with magical realism, using Hug as a mirror that forces Tim to face the parts of himself he keeps avoiding. What begins as a hazy late-night hallucination grows into a journey of reflection, healing, and small but powerful shifts in how Tim moves through the world.
The scenes with Tim’s family have this raw authentic truth that made me wince a little because I’ve sat through those exact kinds of conversations, where every joke lands like a judgment and every question hides a comparison. The author doesn’t use heavy language. Instead, the emotions just show up in the pauses and the awkward laughs and the things nobody says. I liked how the magical parts didn’t drown out the real ones. Hug isn’t there to whisk Tim away. He nudges him and pokes at him and calls out the nonsense he tells himself. The mix of earthy humor and odd wisdom works really well, and I found myself rereading some of Hug’s lines because they felt simple on the surface but grew deeper the more I thought about them.
I also liked how the book handles drift and disappointment. There’s no tidy breakthrough. No big speech that fixes everything. Just a slow turning, like someone waking up after being half asleep for years. Tim’s struggles felt close to the bone. The scenes with Paula were especially tough in a good way. They’re trying to love each other while standing in different kinds of fog, and the author shows that with a gentle touch. The story could have leaned too sentimental or too mystical, but instead it keeps landing in this nice middle place where doubt and magic share the same breath. I appreciated that the book doesn’t pretend meaning arrives fully formed. It comes in pieces. It comes in small moments by a stream. It comes in noticing the person beside you before they fade from view.
I’d recommend Hug Whispers Between Worlds to readers who enjoy character-driven stories and gentle magical realism. It’s great for anyone who’s felt stuck, overwhelmed, or unsure what comes next. If you like stories that mix real-life messiness with a touch of wonder and just enough mystery to keep you curious, this one is worth your time.
Pages: 25
