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Showing posts with label novel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label novel. Show all posts

Sunday, June 24, 2012

The Winner!

Now is the exciting time when I get to announce the winner of my competition, which involved helping me to help name my new book, which was tentatively entitle Light. And the winner is... me. Yes, sadly, I have - at least for the time being - not chosen any of the titles provided by the three brave souls who put forward suggestions (I eliminated Wayne's suggestion as I have a feeling he wasn't being serious). This is not just a cynical attempt to save cash on having to distribute the competition prize, which is actually two of my books! To dispel any such claims, I have decided to give the prize to all three who put forward suggestions. To claim your prize just email me with your address: mindfutures-at-gmail-dot-com.

You can see my current title in the book cover, below. What do you think? It isn't easy to select titles, and in fact every single person I have spoken to has suggested a different one!

The book is currently available in eBook in pdf format (email me). It will be out in Kindle form in about a week. It should be around $4.99 on Amazon. The hard copy is probably a month or two away.

Blessings,

Marcus





Thursday, June 14, 2012

Choose My New Book Title and Win!

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz0wPHJ_5RKnu2RdK6G1WeeQLl64XDODE3_KFwiyc-w8QF-tPPGi9p2pEahfbRAVM_Vqgpc37xWwwNC_2PVEX0cHmnw7J3oSr9XjrdhSt5TGdcv2vYQDDkBnzzXbPUJE-odNhwmz76UGoU/s1600/darkness.jpg

I have been writing my latest book for a year now, and it is all but complete. One thing I am not entirely happy with is the title: Light. Perhaps it's a little bland (click here to read or download the first part of the book). So I'd like to get a little help from you with choosing the final title. 

This is a competition! Everyone who enters will get a free e-copy of the book (in two weeks). The winner will also get a hard copy of the book, plus one hard copy of my other books of choice (Discover Your Soul Template, Extraordinary Mind or Integrated Intelligence). Plus, they will get a credit in the book if you suggest a better title than the ones I've given.

To enter, all you have to say which one of the suggested titles is best OR suggest a better title.The winner will be either 1) The best new title 2) ONE of the people who choose the most commonly selected title of the one's recommended below. In the second scenario, I will just draw the names out of a hat.

Don't forget to either send me your email address, or if you don't want to do that, check here on 22C+ within the next two weeks to see if you have won (mindfutures - at - gmail dot com). There will be a new post on this site to announce the winner, but I'll also announce it in the comments section below, so you should receive an email saying there is a new comment on this post at that time.

The title has to match the theme and style of the novel. You can see a brief introduction to the story below the suggested titles. It is about a university student, Greg Marks, who learns to channel consciousness and read minds. The upside it that he becomes a lot 'brighter' - including academically - and develops incredible intuitive abilities. The key conflict emerges when he is confronted by some very dark 'energy', which is effectively trying to destroy him. He also has a hard time trying to reconcile his newfound abilities with what he is being taught at university. This is why my suggested titles are mostly centred on the idea of an interplay between light and darkness. Clearly, the book is about a spiritual journey.

The book is semi-autobiographical - 20 years of my life condensed into one. Most of the 'paranormal' events described really did happen to me.

I look forward to hearing your suggestions. Leave them in the comments section, below.

Marcus


Suggested Titles
  1. Light
  2. The Light of Shadows
  3. Shadows at the Edge of Light
  4. Shadows of the Light 
  5. The Light of Darkness
  6. The Mind Reader
  7. A Darkness Beautiful
 About the book
Something awakens...



There is a doorway between this world and another more mysterious domain. Greg Marks is about to stumble upon the key, and open the door. Unbeknown to him, he is about to discover something wonderful; something terrifying...

    ***

      "How much do you really want to know? How deep do you want to go? If you stuck a camera in someone’s eye that could record everything he said and did, how interested would you be in seeing what the camera reveals? What if that little device could also record the thoughts of that guy? Would that turn you on?
     Or would you turn it off?
   Imagine that you were able to peer right into the guy’s soul, into the dark country within him that even he has never dared venture?
      I am the man who discovered the camera. I just didn't realise that it would cut right into the heart of the universe itself, and flay wide and broad the secrets of the cosmos. All those secrets. 
     Before you call me mad, I have a story to tell."  
    ***

Light is a semi-autobiographical novel which dares to venture into the frontiers of mind and cosmos, detailing many events and experiences which actually happened to the author.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

The Mind Hackers


Today I am posting an extract from the middle of my book, Light. In these two chapters of the book, Greg, the main character, is just beginning to work with the spiritual group called Journey of Light (JOL). He is also getting to know another JOL member named Joel. This section is significant because it details some of the ways that consciousness fields work through people via the human ego, and how these fields can be shifted by people who understand how they work. 

The book is nearing completion, and will be available within a month or two. You can read more of the book at www.lightmysterious.com


The FlexMan

I awoke the next morning feeling like crap. It was more than just the beer. It was like that one moment of eye contact with Angela had made my soul heavy. I spent the whole morning ruminating over what I’d done. If only it could have been undone.
It was a Saturday, and the Hall was pretty dead. It felt like a ghost town, and in my listless state I felt like a ghost. Then I got a text.
Heading for a workout at 2.00. Want to join me? Joel.
I still wasn’t quite confident about socialising with JOL members, but maybe a workout with Captain America was just what I needed. And in many ways Joel seemed like the most down to earth of those at JOL.
I rode my bike up to the gym and headed for the change rooms. I was hoping Joel wouldn’t be there at that precise moment. It would be bad enough competing with the guy in the gym, let alone the locker room. I had packed some baggy shorts and an oversized t-shirt. I whipped them on and strode out into the weight room where I saw Joel warming up in front of one of the very big mirrors. He was stretching and bending here and there, and of course his attention to his reflection was mere testament to his dedication to form. He was decked out in short shorts and a tank top, looking like Ivan Drago from Rocky 4.
When he saw me he smiled and shook my hand. Two of my fingers cracked. Luckily I was in a forgiving mood.
“Nice threads, man.” For once Joel was smiling as he checked me out. He must have thought my skinny legs were really funny or something.
“Thanks, you look pretty good yourself.”
“Today I’m doing chest and back. Is that okay with you?”
“Why not? I’m good for chest and back. I need a little extra work in those areas.”
“We’ll warm up first. I’ll do the first set, you spot me.” Joel threw about five hundred pounds on each side of the bar, lay on the bench and began to push while I stood over him. Not that he needed much help. He could’ve done the weight with one hand while checking himself out with a hand mirror held in the other one.
Next it was my turn. “Um, I’m a little rusty. I might need to go easy today.”
We grunted out a few sets. By the end of it I realised how out of shape I was. I asked Joel how much weight training he was doing.
“Not too much. Studying Mechanical Engineering isn’t that easy. I have over twenty hours of lectures a week. So I get in maybe four or five workouts. No more than two hours each time, though.”
“Shit. I could never do that.”
“No pain, no gain. You gotta push if you want anything in life these days. Nothing comes easy.”
“I noticed. But I like my down time.”
“Sure. That’s your choice. But the way I see it, either you take control of your life, or it takes control of you. If you wanna get big, you gotta think big.”
We moved onto another chest machine, and soon he was grunting out more reps on impossible weights. As I watched his ample chest pump up, I couldn’t help but thinking that something wasn’t quite right.
“What’s a guy like you doing in JOL? I mean, you don’t really look the new age sensitive type to me.”
“Who says you need to be sensitive?” He told me he’d started JOL a mere week before me, after just one session with Julie. I wondered why he hadn’t been asked to do a host of private sessions with Julie before being let into the group, like me. I felt a bit miffed about it. So I told him.
“You must have something that I don’t.”
Joel stood up from the machine, all puffed up like a rooster during mating season. He looked straight at me. “You are wondering why I got straight in? I can see why. It’s because I am straight forward. When I see a challenge I go for it. I don’t mess around or play games. If I like it. If I want it. I go for it.”
“Ah huh.”
Joel wiped his jaw with his little towel like he thought he was in a soft-drink commercial or something. “But you? You are still indecisive. This way, or that way? That’s the way your mind works. I can see that much.”
I looked into his steely blue eyes. What a fucking hero, you are! If I stuck a pin in your steroid-inflated arse, you’d deflate like a balloon.
But FlexMan didn’t pick up my vibe. He was on a roll.  “Control. Remember that. If you haven’t got control, you got nothing.”
I sat my butt down on the machine and ground out ten reps on a weight Joel could have done under Jupiter gravity. I didn’t want to make the big fellow feel too intimidated, after all.
After the workout I didn’t head for the locker room. I figured the room just wasn’t big enough for the three of us: me, Joel, and his ego. Instead I cycled back to the hall in my gym clothes.
To my surprise I actually felt good after all the exercise, and I came to realise something. Perhaps it was the cooling effect of the winter air rushing past my face, or the towering presence of the tall gum tress that lined the road that brought about the insight. Joel was onto something. As I peddled along, I relaxed and did a quick check to see if I was projecting any energy bat Joel. Actually, it was more like I knew I was sending him some strong messages, and it was time to pull my fat head in.
Fuck you, you big hero! You think you’re so damn good. I’m better than you are! I don’t need a pumped up body to make me feel I’m good enough. You are a fucking wanker!
It wasn’t that surprising to see what I was doing. The thiughts had been floating through my mind during my entire workout with the big fellow.
Next I reversed the process, and read Joel’s energy as it was being projected towards me.
I’m superior to you! Look at you! You’re puny. You haven’t got a chance with women when you are around me. I’m number one around here and don’t you forget it. You should be grateful I let you work out with me.
It was obvious, and had to admit it. I was threatened by Joel. I was just as much a wanker as he was. We both thought we were better than the other. As I rode my bike into the Hall carpark the whole drama suddenly seemed absurd, and I laughed. And as I did the way I saw Joel shifted. He wasn’t much different from me. We were just a couple of young guys making our way through the world. He was okay.
Back in my room I stripped off my shirt and hit a few double biceps poses in front of the mirror. I made a promise to myself not to be so insecure next time I had a workout with Joel, nor to judge him so easily. Besides. He was right. No pain, no gain. I needed to be more disciplined. I needed to get control of my life.
I made my way down the hallway and to the showers bare-chested and wearing only a towel. Sadly there were no chicks there to see me before my pumped-up muscles deflated back to their normal, puny size.


 Mind Hacker

The next few weeks were uneventful, except for the fact that the insight into my issue with Joel had lifted my spirits. Rather than get lost in silly little conflicts with people, I could simply look inside myself to see what was pushing my buttons, then deal with the emotions I was feeling. That meant I didn’t have to waste energy on the bullshit dramas that plague most people’s lives.
It became clear to me that I didn’t need to go round seeing others as opponents, something I’d unconsciously been doing all my life. Joel and I met up again several times for workouts, and I found myself enjoying his company. He had a lot of knowledge about exercise and weight training, and because we were also in JOL together, we got on pretty well. I also started to put on a little bit of muscle, which I was happy about. I was even becoming a bit of a muscle head. I would get home from the gym and start flexing in front of the mirror. I reassured myself that I wasn’t becoming a total meathead, though. Those are the guys who pump up and flex before the mirror inside the gym itself. No sir. I was not like them.
Another reason my spirits were picking up was that JOL gave me a positive focus. Like magic, the world came alive again. I was able to see and feel at a deep level, just as I had a few months before. My uni studies blossomed too, as if the light had penetrated not just my spiritual insight, but my academic mind. My results picked up, and I was getting distinctions and high distinctions for my essays and reports. I felt smart again.
 The darkness that had engulfed me after the breakup with Amanda and my problems with my studies had lifted. I had rediscovered my abilities, my light. But I didn’t just reappear in their old guises. They began to expand.
That was wonderful. At first. But the one thing that I was learning was that the universe loves to test us, to find out just how committed we are to what new think we believe. That next big test came on a Saturday morning at a JOL gathering.
“Okay, Greg, let’s see what Joel is up to today.” Julie was looking at me. I knew from the way she leant forward on her cushion and from her intense gaze that she was expecting something from me, something a little more than the usual.
The thing is that Joel had not turned up to the group. I had assumed that he had merely been held up. I was wrong.
“Joel has been given some time out.” She began. “He needs time to work through some issues that have come up for him.”
I stared at her. Time out? “When will he be back?”
“That depends on him. Just these past few days I began noticing quite a bit of dark energy channeling him. He was starting to psychically attack me. It has to do with some pain he experienced as a child, and his anger about women. He was sexually abused by his mother and older sisters.”
There were several gasps, but I’m sure mine was the loudest.
“Because I am an authority figure for him, he began to project the energy at me. His Little Boy was mistaking me for his mother. When I started seeing all this, I gave Joel a call, and we did a session at my place on the issue. As you can probably appreciate, this is not something that is easy for Joel to deal with. The pain and the shame of it run very deep within him. His Little Boy is deeply wounded. I connected with his inner child and showed him the truth of it. Unfortunately he hasn’t processed the consciousness at all. He is in denial. As a result his need for drama is too great right now. His consciousness field is really messing up the group. I can’t channel properly when people are trying to shut me down.”
I felt my stomach tighten. This was first exposure to the idea that you could be removed from JOL if you didn’t get your act together. What if Julie discovered some dark energy within me, and I couldn’t deal with it? Would I be kicked out?
JOL was beginning to feel like home to me. It was the one place in the world where I really felt that people could see me in all my humanness, all the darkness and light, and still accept me. Sure, it was stressful at times, and the requirements asked of us were great. But where else in the world could I find a place like this?
Julie continued. “When he gets the lesson, then I’ll be more than happy to have him back.”
Jane seemed just as concerned as me. “What if he doesn’t get the lesson?”
Julie was looking intently at Jane, even as she spoke. “Then he will have to deal with his stuff in his own time. It simply isn’t my responsibility to be a surrogate parent for naughty children. And I want this to be a lesson for all of you here.” She was looking around at each of us. “If you don’t shape up, then I will ship you out. That’s just the way it is.”
A nervous shudder went through me. What kind of spiritual teacher tells her student to get the hell out when the student goes through a rough time? What kind of woman would just remove intimate friends from her life? I didn’t need to wait for an answer.
“I like to think of you all here as family. But if you want to be part of Journey of Light you have to accept that in here I am the queen, and I have the final say in matters.”
I was fighting a sense of anger and judgment at what I was hearing. I was fighting it because I was scared that if Julie “saw” me, I’d be the next guy in deep shit. Fortunately her gaze turned back to Jane, who was voicing her fears.
“But how do you know Joel was sexually abused?” Jane was looking at her little brown boots as she spoke, not quite daring to look Julie in the eye. “Maybe Joel is just standing his ground to you.”
“The truth is, Jane, that there is a lie behind what you just said. Joel has full memories of the events. They occurred over a long period of time. So that is not the issue. The issue is his refusal to accept how the abuse has imprinted deep shame into his psyche and left him with intense anger at women.”
“Oh, sorry.” Jane was suddenly looking even smaller than usual.
“To be quite direct again, Jane, right now you too are really angry with me, and so are a few others here.” She threw a slightly intimidating glance at all of us, scanning the room from right to left. I could feel myself shift into a state of fear. But was Julie being paranoid? “The energy in the room is beginning to deteriorate because the doubt and fear that Joel is putting into the room right now, and I simply cannot work this way.” I had never seen Julie so serious. We could all see how important she thought this was. “And Jane, his energy is coming through you. Right now Joel has possessed you. He has got control of your Little Girl. This is how dark energy works. It seeks pathways that it can use to pass from one mental field into another. If we don’t deal with Joel’s energy right now this will get out of control.”
“Greg.” The sound of my name made me flinch. I was in the crap again.
But no, it was something rather more flattering. I was being asked to help out. “I want you to channel Joel. Cecilia, I want you to play out Jane. Show us what is really going on here.”
I stood up, more than a little nervous. It was the first time I was being asked to channel energy in front of the group. Would I be able to do it? What if nothing came to me? Still, I was relieved that it wasn’t me that was being focused upon.
I stepped into the circle, and I stood opposite Cecilia. But Julie hadn’t finished speaking yet. She was waving a thin finger around like a stern mother chastising naughty children.
“Don’t anybody here dare judge what we are about to see. I’ll be really pissed off if you do. It is your duty to witness this without judgment. If you care about Joel, if you care about Jane, this is whjat you must do.”
She sure wasn’t mincing her words. There was urgency in her voice. This was something important. Just how important we didn’t yet realise.
I looked over at Jane. The poor girl looked terrified, and I couldn’t blame her. This was about as invasive an act as was humanly possible: having another person delve into the depths of your mind and display your innermost thoughts and desires for all to see.
I turned to Cecilia, looking at her pale blue eyes. Then I let go. I brought Joel into my mind’s eye, then felt myself slip into his energy field. Instinctively I placed my hands on my hips and thrust them slightly outwards. I knew that this was something sexual. I gave voice to what came to me first.
“You want me, don’t you, Jane? Admit it, you dirty little woman. I’ve got it and you want it.”
Cecilia-as-Jane took a step closer to me and fell to her knees like she was worshipping some male god. “Oh Joel, you are so handsome. You are so masculine. I love you! Please take me, now!”
There was an echo of nervous laughter in the room. To some degree this type of channeling involved hamming it up, and what came out often revealed the ridiculous side of human intentions. But you had to stay true to the essence of the knowledge being revealed.
I could feel Joel’s contempt. He had no actual love for Jane. He was just playing a game, teasing her. “Yeah, beg for it! That’s the way I like it. All women are whores. They’re only good for one thing anyway.”
Cecilia was kneeling before me, and to put it bluntly, she was moving towards my sexual regions. I, as Greg, was a bit worried she might actually act out something explicitly sexual. But what I was to learn in my time at JOL was that when it came to channeling such projections of the psyche, we toned it down. Everyone would get the gist of it, without actually having to act it out to the letter. In this case there was no doubt what Jane was doing. She was giving Joel some good old fashioned sexual service.
“Oh Joel, I love you. I want you so much!”
I could feel that Joel had a deep control over Jane’s psyche. It was as if whatever Joel said, Jane would be compelled to act out.
Next, the energy shifted, and I felt Joel messaging Jane, instructing her on what she had to do. I pointed to Cecilia-as-Jane, and then to Julie. “Get her, Jane. Get Julie! She is a witch! She can’t be trusted. Destroy her!”
Cecilia-as-Jane stood up, walked over to Julie, hands outstretched like a serial killer programmed to kill, reaching for her next victim. “You must die!” Cecilia gently grabbed Julie by the neck in a feigned attack.
I had to admit that there was something about the way that Cecilia went about business at JOL that pushed my buttons. As I watched her go through this channeling before the group, I couldn’t help but also see the shadow side of Cecilia’s mind. It seemed obvious to me. Cecilia enjoyed the attention of it all, and craved the power that profound perception gave her. It wasn’t that I didn’t think she had any noble intentions, but the essence of what I saw was a young woman who wanted to be the boss. And there was more; there was something almost terrible I could sense within her, like a cold, ghostly wind sweeping across a barren landscape. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was exactly. But is scared me.
This is why, even as Cecilia and I were doing this channeling before the group, there was a troubling question playing out in the back of my mind. Why wasn’t any of this being brought forward by Julie? Was she blind to the shadow side of some of the students? Did she only approve of those she liked, and give those she didn’t like a hard time? Was she playing favourites? Whatever the truth, I kept the thoughts to myself. I didn’t want to make any trouble.
Julie had seen enough of the drama with Joel and Jane. “Okay, I think we get what is happening here.” She gestured for Cecilia and I to sit down.
I went to my cushion. But now there was a new feeling surging through me. Not only had I just read the psyche of another human being successfully, but I had been able to act out his energy in regard to one of his relationships. I felt genuine pride.
Then I looked over at Jane, and the feeling immediately shifted as regret flooded my system. She had her hands on her face, and she was sobbing. The drama that Cecilia and I had just acted out must have been humiliating for her. But had we even gotten the channeling right?
Julie spoke, breaking the silence. “I want everybody to fully acknowledge what they are feeling right now. It is not your responsibility to do anything except own your own feelings and projections. You are not to offer Jane a rescue. It is important that she get the lesson here. Any time you are feeling sorry for another person, you invite them to give their Little Boy or Girl to you. And while you are possessing them there is no way they can feel their pain, and no way that they can heal. We are not in the business of rescuing people here.”
As she spoke, Jane began to wail like a little baby, tears flowing down her face like warm rain. Warren Chen got up and threw a box of tissues in front of her before retreating to his cushion. Jane grabbed a handful of tissues and blew her nose, making more noise than a bugler on Anzac Day. Her body rocked back and forth, sobbing uncontrollably. To be honest, I was scared. What had we done? Was it an act of love just to let her sit there like that bawling her eyes out? Was this what JOL was all about?
After a minute or so Jane looked up, her eyes red. “Yes, it’s true.” She managed to get in short sentences between sobs. “I do feel for Joel. I never said anything of course, but I guess I have a crush on him. It’s just that nobody really cares about me. I don’t have anyone to love in this world.”
That really set her off. The wailing sounded like a cavernous echo across a broad valley. This was really hurting her. Big time.
Julie pointed to Michael. “I want you to act as her father.
“Okay.” Michael stood up with his usual minimum of fuss. He collected himself for a moment before moving towards Jane. He stopped when he was a metre or so away, and cleared his throat.
“Who are you? I don’t know who you are.”
Julie intervened. “Jane, this is all about your father. I think you know that. What would you like to say to your father right now?”
Jane pulled her head up, looking at Michael. She blinked, eyes red, sniffling, but didn’t say anything.
Michael-as-Jane’s-father continued. “Who are you? I don’t know you. I don’t have any daughter.”
“Yes, yes you do!” Jane wailed, resuming her rocking. She looked like a baby in its rocking chair. “I’m your daughter! I just want you to love me. Is that asking too much?”
 “I don’t want you. Piss off.” Michael sat down where he was, turning his back to Jane. He moved his hand up to his mouth. “Yes, I feel like a beer. That’s what’s important right now. I don’t want any other responsibilities. I don’t have any children.”
Jane’s voice became even higher than usual. With her diminutive stature, it wasn’t hard to see her as a little girl. “Yes! Yes you do have a daughter!” She was angry. She thumped the cushion beside her.
“Nope. No I don’t. I have a nice, cold beer, that’s what I’ve got.”
Suddenly the air was pierced with a frightening scream, and it was coming from Jane’s mouth. She began banging on the cushion. There was rage, absolute rage written into her body, her face, her spirit.
“Yes you do have a daughter! I am here! I am here! Please love me Daddy, please love me!”
By this point several other members of the group had started to weep. Julie was going around, whispering to them, even as she gave out tissues. “Just own your feelings,” Julie spoke bluntly to everyone. “Don’t anybody dare rescue her!”
This was difficult; sitting there watching this small, plump, vulnerable young woman lose it. She looked no more than about fifteen years old as she cried like a helpless child. I had an instinctive desire in me to make her feel better, to go over and give her a hug. But we all had to keep our feelings on track. This was Jane’s battle, and nobody else’s.
Jane was repeating the same thing over and over. “What did I do wrong Daddy, what did I do wrong? Why don’t you love me?”
Michael-as-father was getting agitated. “Shut up! You are not allowed to talk. Shut your ugly little face!” He was still sitting, turned away from her.
But Jane’s energy was beginning to shift. She was moving out of the victim state, and more into her power. “No!” She was yelling. “No! I will not shut up! I will be heard!”
Julie moved in beside Jane, gently channeling her Little Girl. “I am worthy of love.”
Jane yelled the words. “I am worthy of love! I am lovable! I am here!”
“What is it that you really want to tell your father, Jane?” Julie was trying to get to the bottom of the issue. And as I looked on I could see clearly what it was that Jane wanted to do, to say. She wanted to tell him to go and fuck himself.
“I don’t know,” Jane sobbed. “What did I do, what did I do wrong, Daddy?”
Julie again: “And…?”
I don’t know, I... I just want to say…”
Julie pushed her. “Fuck you. You just want to tell your father ‘Fuck you!’”
“But I can’t! He’s my Dad.”
“He’s not a Dad.” Julie said quietly. “He’s a man-child. He doesn’t know the first thing about being a father. How can he be your father when he never grew up himself?”
“That’s right. I’m not a father.” Michael-as-Jane’s-father said nonchalantly, looking away from Jane. “I don’t care about you. I have better things to do.”
“Shut up! Shut up! Just shut up!” Jane pulled herself up, and something shifted within her.
“No, you shut up,” said Michael-as-father. You are just a child. Nobody wants to listen to you. I’m going away now.”
That did it. Like a great roar the words screamed from Jane’s lips like a jet plane roaring through the sky. “Fuck you! Fuck you! I hate you! I wish you were dead!” She was pounding the cushion with the last of her strength, almost exhausted. She fell forward, weeping uncontrollably.
Sensing that it was the right time, Julie moved over, grabbed the doll that Jane brought with her to the group, and sat down beside her. Jane took the doll, cradling it like a baby. For perhaps two minutes she simply cried. I had never seen an adult human being is such a state. She was a complete mess, and I couldn’t help but wondering whether this had all gone too far. But Julie seemed to know what she was doing. She was measuring energy every short while. Finally, she intervened.
“This is your Little Girl, Jane.” Julie pointed to the doll in Jane’s arms. “What do you want to say to her?”
“I love you. I’m here for you now.”
Julie gently assisted Jane to let her Little Girl know that everything was alright.
“Tell her it’s not your fault.”
Jane did just this, and I could see her energy begin to lift. Somehow Jane, as a little girl, had believed that it was her fault that her alcoholic father wasn’t there for her. She had blamed herself for his abandoning her and her mother. Now she was setting the record straight.
As the minutes went by Jane slowly returned to something like her normal self. But there was something different too. She had reclaimed a lost part of herself. Then there was one last thing Julie wanted Jane to do.
“Now, as big Jane, the person you are today, what would you like to say to your father. Remember that at some level, he can hear this. His spirit is involved in this process today.” Michael-as-father had turned around to face Jane. Jane’s voice became stronger, firmer. She was a young woman again.
“I want you to know that I am a woman. I am not your little girl anymore, and I will never give my power away to you again. I am a womanR! Do you hear me?”
Michael got up and stepped back. He was acting out the fact that Jane’s father’s energy was beginning to retreat from her, as she reclaimed her Little Girl from him.
Julie clapped her hands and smiled. “That’s it. If anyone would like to give Jane a big hug, now is the time.” There was relief all round, and I felt myself breathe easy again. “And you guys should all give her a big thanks, because this has been a real gift for all of us.” One by one we all came forward and embraced her. I was last. Maybe that was because I felt a little awkward towering over her. Or maybe it was just that the whole thing had scared me.
As we sat back down in the circle, Julie spoke again, her face wearing a smile. “Notice how the energy in the room has changed? Joel’s energy isn’t coming through Jane any more. It can’t. She has taken control of that needy part of herself that he was using to possess her.”
Everyone nodded. I could feel it too. It was as if the room was filled with fresh air. The heaviness was gone.
I looked around at everyone. There was just one thing I was thinking in that moment. This was an incredible gathering of human beings.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

New web site for my novel "Light"

I have now put up a separate web site for my online novel "Light". 


I may not post the chapters here any more (though I haven't made a final decision). If I don't, I will still post the link to the new chapters. Let me know what you think of the new site. It is a simple site, but gets the job done, I think.

Keep smiling,

Marcus

Friday, June 17, 2011

"Light", Chapter 16: Arousal

Click here for a full list of chapters from Marcus T. Anthony's novel Light.


There was someone shaking me. I opened my eyes and felt daylight crash into my brain. It hurt like hell.

“Stupid kid. You shouldn’t drink so much damn beer!”

I squinted, and through the slits between my eyelids I could make out the form of an old man leaning over me. He was carrying a large canvas bag, and from the sounds it made when he moved, I knew he was collecting aluminium cans and plastic bottles.

“Get some clothes on before you die of pneumonia!” He trundled away muttering something about “Kids these days.”

It sure felt as if I’d been drinking – like about two keg’s worth of black Irish beer. My mouth was bone dry, like I hadn’t drunk a drop of water for a month, and I could feel every heartbeat pound through my skull. Even more frighteningly, I noticed that my heart beat was irregular. One moment there were three or four rapid beats, then a pause, then it came back again. I sat up, and grabbed my head with my hands, as if that would make the pain go away. My body was shivering. There was a slight cool breeze blowing in off the ocean, and I was freezing.

My heart skipped a beat again, and a moment of terror descended upon me as the thought passed through my mind that I was about to have a heart attack. That made my heart race even faster as my breath caught in my chest. But the expected explosion of my cardiac matter never came, and I relaxed a little. It looked like I was going to live.

I slowly stood up, steadying myself against the dizziness. I was fascinated to discover that I was wearing only my jeans and was bare foot. Then I noticed that I was standing at the low point of small sand dunes which were covered in thin layers of tall, rough grass.

My shirt. I needed to find my shirt. I looked about me, and could see nothing but sloping dunes, grass and sand. I scrambled around, and eventually found one of my shoes, but not the other; and the shirt was nowhere to be seen. After a few minutes I cursed and hobbled up the dune wearing my one shoe and made my way towards the car park.

My thoughts were more scrambled than a Sunday morning omelet. All I knew is that I had to get back to Edwards Hall. I hobbled up the hill road, heading back towards Scott Street at the top of town, where I knew there was a bus stop. A guy walking his dog passed me, looking at me like I was from Mars. A bit further along two schoolgirls giggled as soon as they saw me. That’s when it dawned on me that it was not socially normal to stumble along in public, shirtless and wearing one shoe.

The 100 bus pulled up, and I clambered on. The driver gave me a “WTF?” stare as I clambered into the vehicle. It was when I fished a couple of coins from my still wet pocket that a vague sense of the events of the previous evening filtered into my consciousness. Scattered thoughts of brilliant lights and a roller coaster ride through some alien dimension momentarily besieged me. But I was having trouble remembering anything specific.

When I drew the coins out of my pocket they were, well, black. I ignored the incongruity, the look of incredulousness on the driver’s face, threw them into the tray and crashed down on a seat.

I was the only person on the bus, but as we moved passed other stops, a few more people got on, and all the funny looks I got began to make me feel just a little self-conscious. Still, I’m sure the radiation victims of the Hiroshima bombing in 1945weren’t overly concerned with social disapproval as they stumbled around half naked at the impact site of the A-bomb. What I am saying is that my brain hurt too much to really give a damn.

A sense of overwhelming fatigue overcame me, and I fell asleep like a cheap drunk…

When I awoke I had no idea where I was. I felt totally lost. I sat up, and everything felt completely alien, like I was in someone else’s bed, and in someone else’s body. But slowly the room about me began to form recognisable patterns. The desk, the poster of Bono, the crappy T-shirts hanging in the open wardrobe. I was in my room.

The scariest thing is that I had absolutely no recollection of how I got there. The last thing I could remember was being on some bus. Now I was lying on my bed wearing only my underwear.

I got up, stumbled a few steps and presented myself as best I could in front of the tall mirror on the wardrobe door. For a moment in the dimly lit room I didn’t notice anything too unusual, except that I looked a bit pale. Then as my eyes adjusted to the light I noticed some small dark freckles on my chest. I flicked on the light, and discovered they were all over my chest and abdomen. I fingered one or two and there was a slight discomfort. They were burn marks.

“What the fuck?”

All I knew was that something weird had happened, and that I had lost any real remembrance of recent events. I scanned my mind, and the last thing I could really remember before the bus was standing on the beach with the storm closing in. Even that was hazy, as if from a dream. But as I looked at the marks on my body I remembered the blackened coins I’d fished from my pockets on the bus. An unfeasible hypothesis was beginning to formulate in my mind. I went straight to my computer.

First, I needed to find out what day it was. Saturday? This was another WTF moment.

 Then I went to a medical diagnosis site, and filled in my symptoms. The list of seven possible diagnoses popped up. The very last hit me like a blow to the face.

I scratched my head and decided to ring the last person I could remember talking to: Amanda.


Pressing fast dial, I waited while for the dial tone.

Click. The line disconnected. I tried again, and it rang just once before the same thing happened. I scratched my head again, and tried one more time. This time she picked up.

“Hi Amanda.”

There was no response.

“Amanda?”

“What do you want?”

“Just calling to see what’s up. Is something wrong?”

“Is something wrong? Are you fucking crazy or something?”

It was the first time I had ever heard her swear. That was just a little shocking.


“I’m sorry, did I say something?”

Again there was a moment’s silence.

“Look Greg, this is not funny. I think we’d better stop seeing each other. I’ve got exams coming up. It’s a really busy time.’

My head started to spin.

“Sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Greg, you are really fucking weird, do you know that? Is there something wrong with your brain?”

My confusion was now a reign of mental chaos. I didn’t quite know what to say, so I said, “Possibly, but I haven’t been tested lately.”

She laughed. I hadn’t a clue what I was doing, but I felt an opportunity.

“Sorry if I have been acting a bit strange. Things have been a bit difficult in the last few days.”

“Your Aunt sick again, by any chance?”

This time I laughed. “Yeah. It’s chronic.”

 “So, what happened? Last time I saw you were running into a storm, quite literally.”

I felt it within me. Her energy had shifted. There’s a well known song in Newcastle, called The Newcastle Song. The refrain from the chorus goes, “Don’t you ever let a chance go by.” I decided to heed that advice.

“Will you hate me if I tell the truth?”

“I already hate you.”

“OK, then here it is. I think I was struck by lightning.”

“What!?”

“Either that or I was at a really, really wild party.”

I described the burn marks on my body, the black coins, the loss of memory. Waking up on the beach. Finally I mentioned all the symptoms of a lightning strike I’d uncovered on the web. After I’d finished there was silence again. Finally I added.

“Well?”

“Fucking hell, Greg. If you are right, you are lucky to be alive!”

“Lucky is my middle name. I need to talk. Can I come over?”

Much to my surprise there was no silence. No hesitation. She said yes.






Monday, June 13, 2011

"Light", Chapter 15: The Light


For a full list of current chapters of Marcus T Anthony's Light, click here.


A hole in the top of my head opened, and I was out. Out of my body.

It wasn’t like the out of body experiences you hear about on TV programmes about the supernatural. I didn’t see my body at all, and there was none of that eerie floating around up there trying to figure out that you are actually dead. For a start, it was pissing down rain at the time, and even if I’d had a choice, I don’t think I would have hung around. No, it wasn’t a quiet last ‘Farewell”. It was a great explosive bang of a “Goodbye, and I’m out of here!”

The first thing I was aware of was the great whooshing sound. It was like I was in some tunnel being thrust along at the speed of light. There was the sensation of rapid movement, like being in one of those carnival rides where you are projected up into the sky at a thousand miles an hour, while screaming. Only there was no gravity, and no screaming. That was the strange thing. I was moving fast, there was the sound of movement, but nothing seemed to be passing. In fact I couldn’t see anything. All was blackness.

There was a short moment of terror as I realised something very strange was happening, but then for some reason I let go. The words came again.

“Surrender to death.”

I let go, just let go. As I did I suddenly found myself expanding like a balloon. Again, I couldn’t see it, I just felt it. It was like every sense of boundary between me and everything else just collapsed, and I became infinitely light. Then infinite. Then light.

As I expanded outward and everywhere it was as a great hand had reached into the centre of my chest and pulled open a zipper, spilling out an instant radiance of joyfulness. I was flying and it was total bliss. Then I knew, within that instant beyond time and place, and without any words or thinking required. Knew.

This is who I truly am.

Time collapsed, and my vision opened. I could see the panorama of my life before me, as if I was looking at it from a great distance, and from above myself. There I was, being born. A violent and frightening ripping sound came, as my being was compressed into a finite body, and I screamed like a baby at the sheer indignity and terror of it all. I saw my mother, and I saw the child that she was, and it became instantly clear to me that she was in fact not even a real adult, but a child in a woman’s body. Behind her I saw her father and relatives stretching into distant pasts of ancestors long dead, and I could feel the great weight of their unprocessed pain and hurt being funneled through her... and then onto the baby. Me.

My father appeared too, and I saw the long line of ancestors again. Back and back beyond them the ancestors carried something within them, like a sickness. The word ‘gonorrhea’ appeared in bold white letters, and I knew that somehow the shame of this disease had been carried down through seven generations of my father’s family. Don’t ask me how I knew it was seven. In that moment I just knew. I knew it then. My father was a channel for the darkness of others who had come before him. I felt their pain, their confusion and their shame. I felt the hopelessness and their sense of being lost and forgotten, abandoned.

Then my older brother James appeared, and I saw him standing over me, me as child; and I saw a great tearing within him as a massive wave of water descended upon him - from my father. But I knew that it was not really water, but the shame and darkness from my own father’s soul, and the souls of his ancestors. As I watched I saw James turn upon me, full of darkness and rage. He began to beat me. I screamed out in pain and anger, and the pain of it filled my being.

Then I saw him. It was the baby, the baby that I once was. He was crying, alone. I could feel him, and I felt his pain and tears. And then I knew what it was that I wanted more than anything else, and what had driven so much of the longing within me my whole life. I wanted to be held. But there was no one there. There was the anger of rage and abandonment, and I knew it was directed at my mother.

The landscape shifted and great rivulets of rain water fell upon “me”, or whatever I was at that moment. Or perhaps it is that it fell through me. And I sobbed great heavy tears of insufferable pain, the pain of many births and deaths, of countless lifetimes. Yet in that pain, it was as if I had been united with the very essence of myself. It was pain, and yet the pain was joyful, as if the separation from the tears, the anger and the fear is what had been painful, rather than the feelings themselves. I wept. I sobbed. I screamed with a rage so violent it threatened to tear apart everything.

And then I laughed. It was the laughter of joy. The joy of unity. Union with the lost parts of myself.

After a timeless time the scene before me expanded, till my family and I became a speck in a great panorama. The entire scene was like the twilight of the longest day, and day that was many centuries long. The sun was setting on a terrible blood red horizon. As I looked down I could see battles, wars, murders and rapes and the pain of it all was curled up into great dark vortexes, tornadoes that twisted and flickered across the land, threatening to engulf all.

Then a voice said: “This has been going on for one thousand, three hundred years.”

The bloody landscape retreated and was replaced by stars and galaxies, all moving about in perfect motion and timing, as if such had been happening for countless billions of years. And then I felt it, felt everything. It was the life of the cosmos, breathing, pulsing like a giant cosmic lung. As I watched it and felt it, it was as if it was all beyond time, as if all this had already happened. Or perhaps it would all happen, again and again and again. Because in that moment there was no time as I had understood it.

“You wanted to know. Now you know,” said the voice.

I became aware that one of the stars was glowing brighter. My mind came to rest upon it, and I realised that it was the star that had been communicating with me. Even as this awareness came, the star immediately pulled me closer, and brightened until it embraced me into its very being. Light exploded through me, and “I” ceased to exist. My mind - as I knew it - disappeared, and I became one with life itself. And everything was life. Everything was being. An immense joyousness filled me. I was floating, everywhere and nowhere, eternal in eternity.

I existed, or perhaps didn’t exist, in this timeless, space less dimension for a time beyond time. And all the while I was aware of the presence that was with me. It seemed to me to be the consciousness of a man. I did not see him. I only felt him. I felt his mind, and it was a mind that was so vast, so pure and so full of light that I felt completely safe. There was the thought that this intelligence was many times greater than mine, as if it sat upon some level of existence that was far above where my own mind resided. As I felt “him” there was the greatest peace. I began to laugh, and it was the laughter of a child. Then there was light, and there was only light. It was pure bliss, and there was no desire to ever experience anything beyond that moment.

“Remember,” he said.

“I will remember.” There was nothing of desire but to fulfill this intention. I knew it would be my duty. My life from that point onwards.

Before my mind the face of a woman appeared, and I knew that I was being directed to pay attention. She was of early middle age. Somehow, the ‘energy’ around her was big, bigger than that of other people. It was as if she was somehow magical, could see more than others. There was something black behind her head, as if something was stuck there. But I could not see it. There were no words, but I knew that we would meet. She would teach me soemthing. Some knowledge. Then I was seeing Michael. There as some connection, but I knew not what.

Clouds came, the light lessened, and I saw my family again, including some of my friends. Paul and Amanda were there. Then Dr Blackpool appeared, and I felt a shudder move through me. I was afraid. With that feeling I began to contract. I could feel myself falling away from the light. But even so, the knowledge continued to flow.

“There is no betrayal.” The voice said.

Rather, I should say it “commanded”. For this message had an extra force to it. It was telling me something important.

There then came a coalescence of ideas and information, which were not so much spoken as thrust into my head in a moment. Stubbornness was blocking me. There was a wall about me, shutting others out, and there was pain inside the wall. Then came thoughts that I can only describe as disturbing. There were images of sexuality and defecation, depravity. There was the stench of urine, feces and semen. I was revolted.

“Do not look away,” the voice said firmly. “You will need to know.”

I was afraid, but I trusted the voice, and as I looked back, I felt the fullness of those dark feelings. I felt sick.”

“You may vomit now.”

This is precisely what I was told, and at that very moment I fell. It was as if I was thrust onto a roller coaster heading earthward, and violently reborn into my body.

I groaned. The pain was immense. My head was pounding as if I had been struck with a sledge hammer.

I found myself lying on the beach, in the darkness, my face half buried in the sand. I spluttered, coughed violently. With that a great wall of stomach fluid forced its way out from within me and sprayed from my mouth like water from a fire hose. For a minute or so I crouched there upon the night beach, emptying the contents of my stomach till I could vomit no more.

I barely had time to catch my breath, and for a few minutes more, I remained there. I knew I was sick.

I stood, dizzy, nauseous. It was painful to look through my eyes, as if I was using them for the first time. But look I did. I was suddenly aware of flickers of lightning on the horizon. The storm had passed, a few stars were staring down brightly from above, and I realised that I was soaking wet, shirtless and cold.

I took a step, then collapsed, exhausted. Then I slept.