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Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Light, Ch. 33: The Appointment

Happy Chinese New Year! If you are wondering why there has not been a lot of blog activity here lately, it is just that my energy is focused on other things at present. There will be a few more posts coming up soon, though. Meanwhile here's a little more from my new novel, Light. Currently I am re-writing much of the novel, and restcruturing some of the plot. I won't be posting all of it online. The novel will be available in its entirety in e-book and softcover form in a few months time. As mentioned, this novel is semi-autobiographical, and this chapter reveals some of the kinds of healing methods I have experienced in my own journey. All characters are fictional, even the main character - although he's probably about 70% like me. I'm far too boring to write about! There's an extract from the chapter, below. Click on the heading to read the whole chapter.


Julie shifted again, and I saw my mother before me. I was a child again.

“You are not allowed to be angry. You are just a little boy. Get down!” Julie was standing over me, pushing me down from the shoulders.
I could feel them on me, the chains of imprisonment. From within my own darkness the rage erupted. I screamed, pounding the pillow with clenched fists. “I will kill you, you fucking bitch! Fuck you! Fuck you! I will kill you!” My face was red with rage, my arms pounding the pillow, rising and falling like a woodchopper felling a great tree.
Julie pushed down harder. “Stop this nonsense at once! You are not allowed to feel. You are just a worthless child. Sit down and shut up!”
I sobbed the tears of a helpless infant. “Why? Why are you doing this?”
“You are a boy. You must never become a man. Mean are dangerous, dirty, perverted, sexually deviant beasts. They must be destroyed, all of them.’
I could take no more. I sprung up, drawing myself to my full height, standing towering over Julie, over the darkness that was my mother. The words came out as a great roar of violence. “No, no, no! I will not shut up! I am a human being too! I am not your whipping boy! I am a man!” A great primal roar came busting through me, the rage rising from my lower back and thrusting skyward into the havens with my scream. I knew it was the rage of lifetimes of repression, of persecution, of playing the role of victim.
The torrent of energy evaporated from me, and I fell down to the floor, sobbing so deeply that for a time I lost all sense of who I was and of who was with me. Hot tears flowed down my ruddy cheeks, mucus running from my nose and down my shirt. I cried the tears of a thousand years. It was the first time I could remember truly crying since I was an infant. Slowly my awareness returned to my surroundings. I was exhausted, yet somehow liberated of the burden of a great weight.
Julie handed me my teddy bear. “Your little boy is yours now.”


  1. Brilliant Marcus; this gets better and better. Extremely powerful, it brought tears to my eyes to read it. Looking forward to reading more. It may be that fiction is the most effective way to communicate your message.

    1. I'm glad you like it Simon. It's encouraging for me. The book will look a bit different by the time it comes out, after the re- writing