This is an important and timely question explored in the highly acclaimed spiritual novel, SNOOZE: A STORY OF AWAKENING, winner of the 2015 National Indie Excellence Award for New Age Fiction.
Written with young adult and young-at-heart readers in mind, SNOOZE further proved its literary merit by being selected as a 2016 Readers’ Favorite International Book Award Finalist in the Young Adult-Coming of Age category and receiving an Honorable Mention in the 2014 Beach Book Festival Prize competition in the General Fiction category.
You’re invited to join—either with eyes or ears—Max Diver, a.k.a. “Snooze,” along the razor’s edge of a quest to rescue his astronaut father from a fate stranger than death in the exotic, perilous Otherworld of sleep.
This inspiring tale interweaves a plethora of paranormal and metaphysical subjects, from Bigfoot and enlightenment to the Loch Ness Monster and time travel via the Bermuda Triangle.
In her review of SNOOZE published in INDIE SHAMAN Magazine, June Kent had this to say about what she described as “superlative fiction”: “Engrossing, entertaining and occasionally humorous, SNOOZE also takes a look at a wide range of subjects including levitation, telepathy, lucid dreaming, spirit animals, parallel universes and shamanic-like journeying, giving a wide range of information effortlessly absorbed as you enjoy the story as well as much food for thought.”
Naturally, your generous review would be greatly appreciated even if you simply enjoy the full text now being presented on this blog and numerous podcast platforms. Keep in mind that paperback and ebook versions are for sale. A complimentary online version is also available for your reading pleasure.
SNOOZE: A STORY OF AWAKENING
By Sol Luckman
All through that morning and into afternoon, they trekked through a hilly terrain of fields and woods in what Max judged by the sun’s position to be a mostly northeasterly direction. But that was only conjecture based on space-time; perhaps, in time-space, they were traveling in a southwesterly direction.
As the hours elapsed, the season gradually seemed to shift from what had felt like springtime down at the river, to high summer as they navigated a winding mountain pass, to early fall as the terrain began to level out at elevation.
By mid-afternoon, there was evidence of autumn everywhere in larger-than-life, brilliantly pastel versions of wild daisies, Queen Anne’s lace, goldenrod, crowfoot, milkweed, and white asters.
In an attempt to make sense of the seasonal shift, Max surmised that the cosmic sector was structured on complementary vectors, something like x and y axes where time was concerned.
Maybe it wasn’t quite so simple as “forward into the future, backward into the past,” though this had been a helpful concept. By the look of things, time-space was based on coordinates.
The vertical, or “y axis,” appeared to regulate historical time. North, or at least “upward,” on this axis took one into the future; while south, or “downward,” propelled one back into the past.
Concurrently, assuming the coordinate hypothesis was correct, one’s position on the horizontal, or “x axis,” determined the season in the larger temporal framework.
With Zana’s trajectory steadily toward the east, or at least the “right,” the seasons had progressed in a natural order—if preternaturally fast. But Max suspected that if they changed course and moved west, or “left,” for a while, the seasons would flow in reverse.
In the late afternoon, true to his theory, the leaves on the deciduous trees started to turn: the product of moving farther to the right into fall on the x axis.
At the same time, the trees changed dramatically from great oaks and locusts to tremendous cottonwoods and aspen-like specimens with smooth, butter-colored bark and silver leaves reminiscent of water lilies that glinted like tinsel in the wind: the result of moving upward on the y axis into a future landscape.
“Don’t you ever get tired of time-traveling with every step?” Max asked Zana as they emerged from an aspen thicket into what looked like the edge of … an apple orchard.
The sight elicited opposite emotions in Max. On the one hand, buoying him up, it was the first evidence of habitation by people he had encountered in the cosmic sector.
But on the other hand, sinking him down, the orchard was clearly an ancient one that hadn’t been tended in possibly hundreds of years.
Nevertheless, there were still apples—gargantuan ones rounded like pomegranates and just as intensely crimson—on many of the wizened trees. Eyeing a particularly juicy-looking one just out of reach, Max realized he was hungry again.
As if reading his thoughts, setting down her rocks, Zana picked the apple easily and handed it to him. The apple was massive, nearly as big as a melon.
“Thanks,” he said, holding it with two hands and taking a bite. The taste was as delicious as it was exotic—a cross between sweet russet and rhubarb, with a hint of papaya.
While Max was otherwise engaged tackling his apple, Zana picked one for herself. Before Max had finished half of his, she popped it in her mouth like a Tater Tot, crushed it in two bites, and swallowed the chunks with a throaty, satisfied gulp.
She picked another and offered it to Max. When he politely declined, she proceeded to eat it as well in similar fashion—at which point she wiped her dark, fleshy lips on the fur of her forearm.
“I’m beginning to see that Bigfoots live quite well in the wild,” Max commented between bites.
No sooner had he finished eating his apple down to the core, feeling stuffed and sleepy, than Zana scooped up her rocks and motioned for him to follow toward the far end of the orchard.
But immediately, having just discarded his core and started walking, he stopped and picked up a curiously familiar object half embedded in the earth.
It was a perfect arrowhead approximately an inch and a half long and an inch wide. Made of black obsidian, it was practically identical to the one he had retrieved from near the Pyramid of the Sun in a childhood dream.
The arrowhead was further evidence that people had once lived here, however long ago. If nothing else, that was hopeful since, in all probability, their descendants were to be found somewhere in the vicinity.
Max looked up at the sound of Zana grunting for him to get a move on. She stood nearly as tall as some of the more twisted apple trees with her fists on her hips like an impatient schoolmarm.
Grinning, Max placed the arrowhead in a rear pocket with the last of his coconut shards, then trotted along behind his new friend into the next phase of their journey through time.
Copyright © Sol Luckman. All Rights Reserved.
Introducing Sol Luckman’s new visionary novel, CALI THE DESTROYER. Learn about the single most censored story in the history of the human race—and why it matters today.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sol Luckman is a pioneering ink and acrylic painter whose work has been featured on mainstream book covers, the fast-paced trading game BAZAAR, and at least one tattoo on a female leg last sighted in Australia.
Sol is also an acclaimed author of fiction, nonfiction, and humor. His books include the international bestselling CONSCIOUS HEALING, which you can read free online, and its popular sequel, POTENTIATE YOUR DNA, available in English and Spanish.
Sol’s popular book of humor and satire, THE ANGEL’S DICTIONARY: A SPIRITED GLOSSARY FOR THE LITTLE DEVIL IN YOU, received the 2017 National Indie Excellence Award for Humor and was selected as a Finalist in the Humor category of both the 2018 International Book Awards and the 2018 Best Book Awards.