Writing Through the Ashes of Life-Fire as a Metaphor

🔥“This is who we are. We burn. Some write. Some rebuild. What do you do?”

There’s a reason fire became the heart of Memories of an Ash Covered Sky. Yes, the Almeda Fire physically scorched parts of Southern Oregon—devastating homes, communities, and memories—but for me, it was always more than a backdrop. Fire became the metaphor for everything I’ve ever lost, fought, created, destroyed, and survived.

And writing? Writing is how I walk through it and come out on the other side.

🔥 The Fire Inside: Why Metaphor Matters in Fiction and in Life

We usually talk about fire as something external—a wildfire tearing across hillsides, a disaster that makes headlines. But fire is internal too. It’s the slow smolder of regret you carry after a bad decision. It’s the crackle in the air when something important goes unsaid. It’s the flicker of inspiration that shows up when you’re staring down a blank page, not sure if you have anything left to say. And sometimes, it’s the kind of blaze that burns everything down so something new can grow.

In Memories of an Ash Covered Sky, fire is all of that. It’s a symbol of Sky Wilson’s fractured relationship with her father, the emotional distance that widened after years of silence. It’s the burning grief, the tension that lives in memory, and the spark that refuses to go out, even in the darkest moments.

That metaphor hit close to home.

🔥 My Own Ash Covered Sky

I sat down intending to write a novel about a fire chief battling the Almeda Fire. But true to my pantser style, the story had other plans. What emerged was something far more personal—a story where fire became a metaphor for Sky, her father, and the things we carry and hide. I set out to write about flames; instead, I wrote about grief, memory, and healing. Like Chief Wilson, I’ve known loss. Like Sky, I’ve buried truths. And like both of them, I’ve lived through moments that burned everything I thought I understood.

There have been days where I’ve felt like I was raising kids while still trying to figure out how to raise myself. I’ve built things I believed in, only to watch them fall apart. I’ve had to bury dreams I thought would carry me through. And still, I kept writing—sometimes with clarity, other times just trying to make sense of the smoke.

Some days, writing feels like an escape. Other days, it feels like the only way to say the things I’m not ready to say out loud. But every day, it helps me push back against the fire.

🧠 The Fictional “Slim Shady”

Let’s be honest—most of us have more than one version of ourselves. The public face. The quiet one. The version that shows up in polite conversation and the version that screams into the void when no one’s watching. Memories of an Ash Covered Sky let me write the version of myself that doesn’t always play nice.

Sky says the hard things I wish I could say. Murphy hides his pain the way I’ve hidden mine. Even the fire becomes a voice in the story—a character that strips away all the pretense and leaves only what’s real. That’s the beauty of fiction. You get to take what’s unbearable and shape it into something honest.

For me, this was a “Slim Shady moment.” Not a persona, but a confrontation. A way to let the mess out and turn it into meaning.

🧯 Rebuilding Through Writing

The beauty of metaphor is that it transforms destruction into something you can hold. Fire,

in its own cruel way, reveals what matters most. When the flames die down, what’s left? What survived? What’s worth rebuilding?

Writing helps me answer those questions. It’s how I untangle the chaos, make peace with old failures, and remember the moments that almost broke me but didn’t. The moments that tore me down then revealed a new inner me. It’s how I keep the important things from being lost in the smoke.

When readers reach out and tell me Memories of an Ash Covered Sky moved them—that it felt real, that it mirrored something they lived through—I know the fire didn’t win. I know the story carried more than just heat. It carried truth.

📚 From Ashes to Pages

I’m still smoldering. Still rebuilding. Still writing. Memories of an Ash Covered Sky isn’t the end of anything—it’s a checkpoint. A moment when I stopped pretending the past hadn’t shaped me, and decided to shape it back.

If you’ve ever felt broken by something you couldn’t quite explain, or if you’ve ever found yourself in the middle of a personal wildfire, I hope this book finds you. I hope it reminds you that you’re not alone, and that some stories are born not despite the fire—but because of it.

📖 The Book is Out Now

Memories of an Ash Covered Sky is available wherever books are sold, in paperback and e-book. It’s part thriller, part emotional reckoning, and all heart. If you’ve already read it—thank you. If not, I hope you will. I think it might leave something with you long after the last page.

[Get your copy here →] Memories of an Ash Covered Sky

💬 Let’s Talk About It

Everyone has a fire story. Maybe it’s a literal one. Maybe it’s a relationship, a loss, a silence you’ve carried too long. If you want to share it, I’m listening. That’s what this space is for.

Thanks for reading—and for walking through the ashes with me.

— Mike