Could it be there’s no such thing as the paranormal … only infinite varieties of normal we’ve yet to understand?

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.

Now for the first time ever, this epic visionary tale is being officially serialized—in both readable and audible formats.

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.”

If you’d like your own downloadable review copy to share your thoughts via Amazon, Goodreads and elsewhere, read details and contact the author with your request.

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.

IMPORTANT: Be sure to follow Snooze 2 Awaken and/or Sol Luckman Uncensored for alerts as new chapters of the 84 in total that make up Max’s extraordinary story become available.

Sweet dreams!

SNOOZE: A STORY OF AWAKENING

By Sol Luckman

CHAPTER SIXTY

“Rise and shine, Maxwell!” Max’s own voice urged him awake. “Get up, sleepyhead! Your breakfast is ready—and your training cannot wait!”

Max opened his eyes to find himself staring up into a brilliantly lit mirror. Then he realized it wasn’t a mirror, but Maxwallah staring down at him in the crisp light of early morning. “How do you feel after a night of holywood sleep?”

“Like I could just keep sleeping.”

“Here, take my hand. Let me help you up so you can shake off the cobwebs.”

After sitting up with his twin’s assistance, Max blinked, yawned, and stretched. What remained of the fire was giving off a thin ribbon of smoke coiling skyward. He remembered his silver cord and was relieved to find it still attached.

“You are still in one piece,” observed Maxwallah. “Your color is also better. And there are no longer rings under your eyes.”

“I do feel somewhat stronger. How’s my aura?”

“Quite robust. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Then I hope you like jut-jut.” Maxwallah had already peeled the prickly skin off the fruit to reveal its glistening, raspberry-colored flesh. He cut a lengthwise wedge and presented it to Max speared on his obsidian blade.

“So I just eat this plain?” asked Max, taking the wedge gently between his fingers.

“Of course. Jut-jut is a complex food with everything the body requires for optimal functioning.”

The fruit’s flavor was completely unexpected—and not altogether pleasant. Neither sweet nor tart, featuring a salty undertone of electrolytes, it was like a mixture of mango, fried egg, and Gatorade. “How is it?” asked Maxwallah.

“Different.”

“I take it you do not care for jut-jut?”

“Let’s just say it’s an acquired taste.”

Maxwallah sliced a wedge for himself and ate it with enthusiasm while Max forced his down. “I don’t suppose there’s a supermarket in the neighborhood?”

“What is a supermarket?”

“A big grocery store.”

“There is a market in my village, but I do not think it would qualify as a supermarket. Besides, it is a journey of two revolutions of the earth from here in the best of conditions.”

Having finished his jut-jut wedge, Maxwallah cut another and offered it to Max.

“No thanks. One was quite enough. You enjoy it.”

“Thank you. I love jut-jut.”

“I’m going down to have a moment of quiet reflection behind the cherry trees.”

“Call if you need me.”

“I think I can handle this myself.”

Except for her rock pyramid, there was no sign of Zana below. Admiring the mist rising above the encircling pines, Max took care of his business and then, whistling, reentered the lane headed back toward the astronomy tower.

Near the base of the staircase, Zana stood holding something resembling a grocery bag in one hand. As Max came closer, he did a double take: it wasn’t Zana but another Sasquatch towering above him!

An exceedingly tall male (as in, almost ten feet tall) with graying fur, he sniffed with enormous nostrils at Max with no discernible expression in his wrinkled face. Only his eyes, which sparkled as he swayed, suggested higher intelligence.

“I am Silverback.” Max heard the words distinctly, in English, in his mind. “You are the Umbodi. Silverback has accepted the Umbodi’s summons …”

“My … summons?” interjected Max aloud.

“… and offers food and what strength is left in him to protect you.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“Silverback has spoken.”

The old Sasquatch stepped forward and extended the bag he held—which turned out to be a gigantic leaf folded into a pouch. Carefully, not knowing what else to do, Max took it. “Thank you,” he said.

Silverback placed his right hand on Max’s shoulder. “I see myself in you,” he said telepathically.

Max stood on his tiptoes and reached as high as he could to touch Silverback’s shoulder, completing the circuit as Zana had done with Maxwallah. “And I see myself in you.”

Having stared deeply into Max’s eyes, Silverback appeared satisfied and stepped back, breaking the circuit as Maxwallah came running down the stairs—sporting his leather pack—with a thrilled look on his face. “So you have met Silverback!” he said to Max.

“Yeah, we just … introduced ourselves.”

“Silverback is the Elder of all the Almasty clans south of the Red Mountains.”

Maxwallah and the old Sasquatch made the circuit. Max overheard them greet each other telepathically with the words, “I see myself in you.”

“Thank you for coming, Silverback,” Maxwallah added aloud. “Our need is great—and your timing is impeccable.”

Silverback grunted and, with a glance and sniff at Max, shuffled off down the lane in the direction of the fountain.

“He is probably thirsty after his long journey,” said Maxwallah. Then, noticing Max’s leaf pouch: “I see he brought you a present. Do you not wish to open it?”

“Why don’t you do it? I’m not used to vegetable wrapping paper.”

Max handed over the pouch and Maxwallah opened it with ease. Inside, tucked in a line along the bottom fold, they found six pink eggs the size of goose eggs. “Bandu eggs!” exclaimed Maxwallah.

“What are bandu eggs?”

“A delicacy. They are not quite as nutritious as jork eggs, but they are certainly tastier—and easier to obtain.”

“I gather a bandu is a bird?”

“Yes. Something like”—Maxwallah’s brow furrowed as he searched for a comparison—“a small ostrich.”

“That sounds promising.”

“Would you like to try one?”

“Raw?”

“Raw would be best. Otherwise, we must start the fire again and delay training.”

When Max hesitated, Maxwallah knelt and cracked an egg on the cobblestones. He held it aloft with his head pitched back and deftly separated it over his mouth—into which the fluorescent orange contents disappeared without so much as a drop spilling. “Your turn, Maxwell. I suspect this will be much more to your liking than jut-jut.”

“What the hell.” Max attempted to imitate his twin, but ended up having to wipe yolk off his cheek. “Wow, that really is tasty. It’s almost like eggnog.”

“I thought you would enjoy it. Shall we finish the rest?”

“Sure.”

“You will need your strength in order to purify yourself and find your innate tone.”

“Purify myself? Find my innate tone?”

“All in good time.”

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.

Building on SNOOZE’s deep dive into lucid dreaming, parallel universes and Hindu mysticism, Sol’s new novel, CALI THE DESTROYER, is a page-turner of a sci-fi tale set in an Orwellian future seeded in the dystopian present that radically rewrites Gnosticism as well as the origins of the earth and humanity.

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.