Immaterial

The supernatural is real. You can disbelieve me… but you do so in ignorance. You can argue that I cannot prove my claim… but nothing you believe was ever actually proven to you. To “trust the science” is to assume strangers with ulterior motives are trustworthy.

I am told that I cannot prove God exists… but I can. My evidence is readily available for anyone smart enough to comprehend what should be obvious.

Everything that actually exists is derivative of the quality of the quantity of one. There are no exceptions, not one. Arguing negatives, fractions and zero is confusing concepts with actuality. Reality is not an idea. If you think it is, you are not in touch with reality.

You are not sentient because of what you think. You are not a person because of what you feel. You are not the source of your own existence. Your every thought and feeling is derivative, every single one. You are not the source of you in any way. Yes, you have free will… but not because of you.

There is only ONE god and he is PERSONAL… or else we could not exist as individuals. It would be impossible. Our source must provide what became us. We are made in the image and likeness of our source.

Where did God come from? If you ask such a question, sincerely or not, it is because God is beyond your comprehension. How is that surprising? You are finite, as are your thoughts. He is infinite. He is smarter than you. How could it be otherwise? The universe itself is beyond your comprehension. This little world among countless worlds is more than you could ever know.

NOTE…

I am smarter than every atheist. They rationalize what suits them and fancy themselves wise for it. They confuse learning with thinking and learn sophistries. I see what I see and hear what I hear whether I like what I see and hear or not. I disbelieve anything I am taught if it contradicts what I see for myself, regardless of the supposed authority of the teacher.

Creative Energy

I write books and illustrate the covers. I create the title fonts. I need energy to do these things. I need physical vitality, of course. I also need inspiration.

I must write what I fancy because my work is fiction. Unlike nonfiction, which can be dry so long as it is factual and articulate, I must entertain my readers. Their interest is to have fun, not to learn what they know is fake.

The best fiction is thrilling. This is why adventure and horror stories have always been the favorites, since the myths and legends. Sexualizing the themes intensifies the thrill. The stories are more fun accordingly. “Positive messaging” has nothing to do with it.

My work is sexual fantasies. The sexuality is seldom pornographic, however. It is usually nuanced, and a matter of context.

My fiction is usually adventure or horror stories, often both as survival horror.

When an idea is sexy to me, I am aroused. I am eager to start. Writing is work, however, and I become tired. I look for things that remind me of the idea, such as pictures, shows or games. I go back to the original inspirations, to remind myself what excited me. I struggle to keep myself energized.

I have exhausted myself while writing. I grind to a halt unless I reinvigorate my interest. A project usually languishes unfinished and fades away. I sometimes come back to it long afterwards. I must be aroused and stay aroused to finish a book.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/477393

Two Heads are Better than One

I am an aficionado of nameless baddies. I fancy them as armed and uniformed conscripts. They all look very much alike, if not entirely identical.

My favorite scenario involving these expendable characters is when they are clueless sentries eliminated with pathetic ease. The idea is especially amusing when there are two of these nonentities… killed simultaneously by one hero.

HEADS KNOCKED TOGETHER: The victims are vigilant yet unaware, facing in the same direction. They are used as the weapons to kill them. They make funny faces and drop limply to the ground.

The scenario and all its connotations are nuanced…

The killing is impersonal and unceremonious. It is grim yet amusing. The victims are stupid while alive yet they die when their brains are smashed.

The foot soldiers of villainy are as anonymous to their bosses as they are to us. They are unimportant in the grand scheme of things, except as a disposable resource. Their deaths are inglorious on every level: It was easy to kill them and no one cares.

Beyond the Pale

Imagination has its limits. Much of them are self-imposed. We fret whether an idea is “ridiculous” or “blasphemous” or “hateful” or “indecent” or whatever else. We are proud and want our thoughts to be intelligent. We are social creatures and hesitant to even imagine what is socially unacceptable.

I write fiction. My craft is all about imagination. I provide it. When people read my books, they are daydreaming what I imagined for them.

My stories are supposedly ridiculous, blasphemous, hateful and indecent.

1^st EXAMPLE:

My novel Sorcerer of the Realm is “ridiculous” because it is an alternate history with magic and the names of places are unfamiliar. It is “blasphemous” because it suffers witches to live. It is “hateful” because the title character is a sympathetic though genocidal Nazi. It is “indecent” because his teenage daughter is in love with him.

2^nd EXAMPLE:

My novella The Black Death of White Women is “ridiculous” because it is about black women who casually murder white women in broad daylight… and get away with it. It is “blasphemous” because the killers go to church and thank God for the endless supply of victims. It is “hateful” because the killings are racially motivated and "indecent" because they are sexually gratifying.

3^rd EXAMPLE:

My novel The Wayward School for Girls is “ridiculous” because it is entirely dreamlike. It is “blasphemous” because mainstream religion in the story is satanic. It is “hateful” because the institutions of the world are vilified. It is “indecent” because the villains rape and murder children. The foot soldiers of villainy are children and they are slaughtered in droves by the protagonists.

My work is imaginative… because I bother to imagine. I do not narrow my thoughts to keep them “sensible” or “clean” or any other such common insincerity. I mean what I write. The stories are not to trick you into believing anything untrue or to turn you against God or society or to vilify anyone real or to pervert or disgust you. They are dreams to be dreamt… for whatever mysterious reason we dream at all.

https://www.amazon.com/Black-Death-White-Women-ebook/dp/B0C14VBGPP/ref=sr_1_8?crid=2I1Z5L6CKG6A&keywords=shawn+o%27toole&qid=1680400033&s=books&sprefix=shawn+o%27toole%2Cstripbooks%2C112&sr=1-8

The Glory of Fiction

If our reality was a fictional universe, it would not be as it is shown in our actual fiction. The wars would not be good against evil. The heroes would not be heroic. There would never be last minute justice in the courtroom.

Things would not be as bad as it often is in fiction, either. Tragedies would rarely be as tragic. Evil would never triumph, despite it countless victories.

Our reality is not as we perceive it. Even when our views are correct, things are never quite the way we assume. We never fully know those whom we know. We never quite understand ourselves, either.

Our reality is the first fiction. God wrote it. When he said “Let there be light” he illustrated it. The story began and shall end. It is already written. We have only to wait for God to finish reading what he wrote. He is editing as he goes along. The final edition shall be the new heaven and the new earth.

I write fiction. I create universes and populate them with characters. I finish writing stories then read what I wrote, editing as I go along.

Humanity was made in the image and likeness of God. We can write and illustrate fiction because of this. We are capable of an insight beyond the otherwise superior perception of the angels. Like our Father in Heaven, we can edit our reality. This is why our sins can be forgiven.

Jesus is the Word of God. It is because of him that I can imagine and create. I write books and illustrate the covers. I create the title fonts. I love what I do. I love what I make. His father, your Father in Heaven is love. My fiction is divine accordingly.

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Shawn-OToole/author/B07C28S75Z?ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

Pending Stories of a Weird World

I write books and illustrate the covers… or I illustrate covers then write the books.

My novel THE WAYWARD SCHOOL FOR GIRLS was a short story that became a novel. It was set in a new universe and creating universes is my thing… so I illustrated a cover for the book TALES OF A WEIRD WORLD, to give the universe a name. I then wrote the book, using some older stories in the beginning.

Nameless baddies are my specialty as a writer and illustrator. I consider Wayward Sentry Girls among my best. Not only do I love their look, but they are naturally born conscripts. I generally favor cheap and easily mass-produced clones, but I do fancy the naturally born… if they are indoctrinated normal people, not reprobate hirelings.

I illustrated the cover for the pending book STORIES OF A WEIRD WORLD. I have already begun writing stories for it. The entire project is because nameless baddies are my favorite characters in all fiction. I created my own and these girls are excellent… as incompetent foot soldiers of villainy.

My Questionable Themes

My Black Death series of books is about black women serial killing young white women. My White Empires books are about a white man committing the mass murder of the disabled, homosexuals and other races.

The black women committing murder are the heroines of their story. The white man committing mass murder is arguably the hero of his.

If I was judged by the fiction I wrote, it could be argued that I am hateful. The argument would be sophistry, however.

My characters are not my avatars in the fiction I write. They are their own people. Yes, I craft their dialog and actions, but as an outsider. Their world is not my own.

My stories are not wishful thinking as prose. I am uninterested in reality, except as the place where I can write fiction. I do enjoy illustrating covers and creating title fonts, but for my own work. The three endeavors are the same projects.

The joy of storytelling is the fun I have daydreaming fantasies. I share the fun. When people comment on what they read, I see what I fantasize from new perspectives. My own imagination expands accordingly.

Why the questionable themes?

Why not? How is keeping our imagination tame a good thing?

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Shawn-OToole/author/B07C28S75Z?ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true