"Why did you call it Ark?"

I can't remember how many times this question has been posed since the book's been published.

As I've gone out onto the marketing trails of bookdom, it keeps up with me.  Almost like I've just stepped on the claw part of a rake, and I have to grab it before it smacks my nose.

As I said in the book, an ark can be defined as "a place of refuge or asylum."  The ghostly characters inside are allowed to exist and cavort at a time in their prime.  However, I was really intrigued by the range of meaning of the two words, refuge and asylum.  Either word could connote a good situation, or a bad one.  For example:

He sought and gained refuge from the storm in the old building.

The asylum protected him from coping with the real world, until he could regain his health and well being.

As I began thinking of the possibilities for the second and third books in the middle Ark Trilogy, the range of meaning of just these two words presented many ways to go, not to mention the more common associations that come to mind when the word "ark" is mentioned.

Still, I've been approached by alums from my Alma mater, Rutgers, asking,

"You're talking about the old Barn here, aren't you?"

Yes and No.  

Was I inspired by the old gym nicknamed after a farming structure?

Yes.

Was that enough to allow me to tell a story larger and more significant than the mostly mundane chronicle of an average guy?

No.

I'm happy for my fellow alums if they want to inject themselves into the story, and their time "on the Banks." In fact, for the careful reader, I've paid homage in the book, much the way a mapmaker puts a fictitious street onto his work to protect his copyright (look for a word out of place, that's all I'm going to say).

However, I was reaching, while writing, for a wider appeal, and more applicability to a greater number, but that doesn't mean I'm not willing to die for dear old Rutgers.