The Strange Spark That Lit Red Sky

Every story has its beginning, though some beginnings are more mysterious than others.

For Red Sky, the spark was a short fictional narrative titled “A Strange Thing Happened”, which appeared as a sort of prologue or introduction in the original 1981 hardcover edition of And the Moon Shall Turn to Blood by Anthony E. Larson. I own a signed copy of that first edition, and I’ve been pondering its contents—and especially that haunting little opening vignette—for over four decades.

The story is brief, gripping, and quietly apocalyptic. It begins with red dust on a windshield and escalates into a world unmoored by cosmic disaster. Meteorites fall. The skies go dark. Rivers turn red. Governments scramble. A family huddles in the basement praying for survival.

It’s written in a calm, first-person voice, and its power lies in that very restraint. The world ends slowly, one unsettling detail at a time. I was never able to shake it.

A Forgotten Author

Back in 2009, I spoke with Anthony Larson on the phone about that story. To my surprise, he seemed almost dismissive of it—not because it wasn’t good, but because he didn’t see it as central to his work. His books were focused on deeper, more doctrinal and cosmological material. “That story,” he told me, “was just something a friend wrote to add a little human interest. People said the book needed something more personal.”

I asked who the friend was. He didn’t remember. I asked if he wrote it himself. “No,” he said flatly. He hadn’t.

To this day, I’ve never been able to identify the author of “A Strange Thing Happened.” Although you can find it in several places on the Internet, it’s a literary orphan. And yet, it has haunted my imagination for so many years.

From Fragment to Fulfillment

I promised Anthony that I would someday write a full-length novel inspired by that story—not a retelling, but a work that captured the tone, the dread, the mystery, and the cosmological implications of what it would mean if such an event really did unfold. I wanted to do what that anonymous friend had started—but in full. With characters, science, theology, heartbreak, and maybe even a little hope.

Red Sky is the result of that long incubation. Though the story has evolved far beyond its seed, I’ve never forgotten where it came from. And I’ve always wanted to give credit where credit is due—even if I can’t name the writer.

Honoring Anthony

Anthony passed away in 2018. In the ten years before his death, he and I corresponded frequently about prophecy, astronomy, and the strange intersection of ancient symbols and modern science. His influence runs deep through this project, and I consider this novel not only a creative endeavor, but a way of fulfilling a personal commitment—to expand the imaginative possibilities of his ideas in fictional form.

I share this origin story now, not just to set the record straight, but to invite others into the strange, symbolic, and celestial space where Red Sky was born.

Sometimes it only takes a few pages—anonymous, half-forgotten—to change the course of a life’s work.