I grew up watching the New York skyline, and from my flat tar roof in Queens I was able to see the World Trade Center in lower Manhattan as it was being built. I felt a palpable thrill each time I passed these glistening towers of glass and steel. Those magnificent edifices defined the size and vibrancy of the city for New Yorkers and people all over the world. When those stately giants collapsed on 9/11, their loss was compounded by the civilians and rescuers who were inside when they fell. I knew people who died that day, and most every day since 9/11 I think about them. Because of those lost, I felt an obligation to react to 9/11 in fiction. The Savage Quiet September Sun is the result of three and a half years of pain, reflection, and eventually catharsis.
-Victor Lana, August 2005
