Ridiculous rubbish—the last paragraph. Yet, granting the validity of conditioning and the learning aspects of behavior, there is no other alternative except that the answers to my experience lie in those directions.

Thus far I’ve ignored the contents of the manuscript, being by nature more fascinated by processes than by art; so the process of the book’s production fascinates me, while the contents can best be judged by storytellers. Yet a few disquieting thoughts have come to me involving the book’s scenes or characters and, try as I will to dismiss them, they keep returning to my mind. For the record, I’ll try to put these unfortunate musings in some kind of order.

For one thing, the book’s description of the rest home of the gods instantly reminds me of Ram-Ram and his Queen Alice at the mental institution. Even the “gods” are reminiscent of the inmates who seemed to regard me with such annoying condescension when I visited Ram-Ram. I don’t even know why such a correspondence comes to mind, or why it makes me more uneasy than I’m willing to admit.

The descriptions of the gods in the book thus far don’t bother me at all, of course. How can one get upset over the actions or conditions of mythic characters? I refuse to define my own position on the “gods” or “God,” for that matter, in any religious terms at all. That is, the word “atheist” presupposes the existence of a God, if only in the minds of others. I myself believe in a chance universe and in Darwinian principles; and in that framework, the idea of a God (or gods) cannot enter, though some evolutionists try to eat their cake and have it too by inserting a Divinity who set the universe and evolution into motion. In any case, for all of those reasons, the descriptions of the gods do not offend me; only the curious correspondence between their environment and Ram-Ram’s quite real institution.

But, just lately, a new issue caught my attention, or riveted it, to be more accurate. So here I will record my uneasy feelings about the chapter just previous to these notes. The first time Will, the young man, was introduced in the classroom dream sequence, I felt a most unwelcome sense of identification with him. For one thing, I wrote the introductory passages or, rather, took them down just after tutoring a particularly difficult student. As I started my nightly writing stint, a small shock went through me to find that Oversoul Seven was also tutoring a student. I shrugged and went on taking down the words that came—as the manuscript has, to date—as fast as I can type.