A long time ago, I was sitting in Germfask, Michigan and was thinking what a interesting, remote, little town and how it would make an incredible backdrop to a fictional story. In my mind I've written the story over the past ten years and I thought it might be time to put it down.
I will not give away the major premise of the narrative, however, the point of it was what it would be like if someone, say an outsider, came to modern, American Christianity with absolutely no foreknowledge of it. How would it look to someone with no cultural bias or preconceived ideas but who was very insightful and brilliant?
The only reason I've picked the town of Germfask is because every time I drove though it (and I must have 20 times during my decade of living in Michigan's upper peninsula), I was intrigued. My point has nothing to do with the nice people of Germfask but the remote and very, very rural setting. If someone was to visit American culture, being in remote place would be a good place to start. The only reason I've picked the Jolly Inn, is that it is the only restaurant in the area.
I will give this a try. This story is much longer and more complex than my vignette about the subtle art of spiritual abuse so I may give up on it if it takes too long. I will try, for the behalf of the reader, to be more careful. I always write in a hurry with my mind many paragraphs ahead of my fingers, so I make silly mistakes such as leaving out the negation (not) which total confuses what I mean, or writing "our" when I mean "or" and "hear" when I meant "here." I also usually type on a 8 inch screen laptop that fits in my pocket and is almost impossible to read and I type with one hand while I'm ordering coffee. But I will use my office laptop (14 inch screen) and try to type when I'm not in a hurry to get to work or when I'm not with someone who is begging me to hurry with each keystroke I make.
So the story is simply called "Germfask."