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-THREE

“It took me seven revolutions around the sun, Maxwell, to learn what I hope to teach you in just a few revolutions of the earth.”

“You’re not exactly helping my stress levels talking like that.”

“Fortunately, you have already experienced the energy in ways most could neither imagine nor survive. And your training should be further enhanced by the venue, Muru-amah itself, which means ‘place of energy currents.’”

“Do you really think being here will ease my learning curve?”

“It has already done so. You discovered your innate tone and found the Cave of Origins on your first try. It took me half a dozen attempts.”

“That’s encouraging”

“It certainly is. Now, Maxwell, when working with the energy, it is critical—I cannot emphasize this enough—that you always begin in an attitude of surrender and love.”

“Like Great Spirit?”

“Like Great Spirit.”

“How do I do that exactly? It sounds like being blissed out on command.”

“That is precisely what it is. And because this can be difficult, especially during times of stress, you must establish a default memory that elicits feelings of surrender and love whenever you tap into it.”

“Could you give me a little more to work with? I’m not sure we’re on the same page.”

“The default memory should be of a time when your fate was in someone else’s hands, so to speak, yet you simultaneously felt great love in your heart.”

“Do you have a default memory?”

“Of course.”

“What is it?”

Maxwallah sighed wistfully with a faraway look. “When I was a toddler, my father would ride me on his horse by setting me in front of him. The steed was so strong and fast, and I was so tiny and weak, all I could do was surrender with the wind in my face and my father’s arm holding me. I surrendered so totally, and loved so completely, that I kicked and screamed whenever the ride finished and my father handed me down to my mother. Does this help?”

“Thanks. It helps a lot.”

“Have you identified your default memory?”

“I think so.”

“Would you mind sharing it with me?”

“Not at all. There’s just one problem.”

“What sort of problem?”

“I’m afraid maybe it’s an impossibility.”

“A default memory does not have to be factual to be effective, but it must resonate deeply.”

“This one resonates … literally. It’s my earliest memory—assuming it actually happened. I was in my mother’s womb.”

“Her … womb?”

“I realize I’m not supposed to be able to remember that far back. But then again, I’m not supposed to be able to do a lot of things.”

“What is the memory?”

“A sound. I recall a sound. A mid-range note. It must have been my mother’s innate tone! She was humming it. Its vibrations were everywhere, even in me. I was helpless, of course, being a fetus. But at the same time, I knew I was incredibly loved—and I felt myself returning and amplifying that love.”

A single tear wobbled down Max’s cheek. “I never knew my mother,” he said.

“Oh, but I think you did.”

“Do you believe my memory will work?”

“It should work beautifully. Consider how intense emotion has activated your latent abilities just since your arrival here.”

Max mentally replayed his fear that led to telepathy during his nearly disastrous river crossing; his elation from his dream of Tuesday and Raul that preceded his levitating a stone; and his profound compassion that allowed him to heal Zana’s wound.

“Emotions exist on an energetic spectrum,” continued Maxwallah. “The more loving the emotion, the more powerful it is—and the more capable you become of utilizing it to access the energy productively and safely.”

“So far I’m following you.”

“Good. Once you have recalled your default memory to establish the proper attitude of loving surrender, you are ready to introduce your innate tone.”

“How do I do that?”

“In one of two ways. Either you can vocalize it, as your mother did while carrying you, or you can simply hear it in your mind. Whichever way you choose, be sure to maintain the positive emotion generated by your default memory while introducing your tone.”

“Is it better to utter the tone aloud or hear it mentally?”

“There is no better. It is simply a matter of preference. Some beginning students find it easier to make the sound while working with the energy. I did not.”

“I’m with you. I think the silent approach would be less distracting.”

“It is not silent if you hear the tone in your mind.”

“True. So what do I do after I introduce my innate tone?”

“You allow the Cave of Origins to open inside your heart.”

Suddenly, Max recalled the vortex bridging the cosmic and material sectors that formed inside his chest when Zana was dying.

“Yes,” commented Maxwallah, reading his twin’s mind. “That was the Cave of Origins.”

“Wow. I just made the connection. What went wrong? Why did I nearly melt myself?”

“You created it with compassion, which is a high-frequency emotion—but there was fear as well, which lowered your vibration. Also, you did not use your innate tone to generate the Cave of Origins. Without the tone, there was no way to create the internal resonance necessary for directing the energy out of your body without doing yourself harm.”

“But you said one must not try to direct the energy.”

“I said do not attempt to control it. The innate tone, working with principles of resonance, builds an internal framework over which the energy of space can travel without resistance into the realm of time—or vice versa.”

“I get it now. It’s like electrical wiring conducting electricity.”

“I am not familiar with your world’s technology. I prefer to think of water flowing through pipes unimpeded and without leaking using the force of levity.”

“Did you just say levity?”

“Yes. That is our word for the cohering force in nature.”

“That’s hilarious. We call it gravity.”

“That makes sense. After all, we are discussing the same energy moving in opposite directions.”

“So the water flowing through the pipes is the energy?”

“Correct.”

“And the pipes lead from the heart, down the arm, and into the palm of the hand?”

“Exactly.”

“Why do your pipes lead to your right hand, while mine lead to my left hand?”

“Because you are gravity and I am levity.”

Max couldn’t help but chuckle. “You mean I am the head and you are the heart?”

“Only figuratively. The more prosaic explanation is that I am right-handed and you are left-handed.”

It suddenly dawned on Max that the statue in the fountain—with its otherwise identical figures fused back-to-back—perfectly depicted this opposite-handed dynamic. “So what do I do once the energy reaches my palm?”

“This is where the fun starts, but it can also be tricky. I hope you are good at multitasking.”

“You mean like chewing bubblegum and walking at the same time?”

“What is bubblegum?”

“Forget it. Yes. I’m decent at multitasking.”

“Excellent. While maintaining the emotion from your default memory, and still holding your innate tone in your mind, simply imagine the energy flowing from your palm and doing what you want it to do.”

“Simply?”

“Or not so simply. It actually becomes simple with practice. But in the beginning, I admit, it can feel rather like juggling. Care to give it a try?”

“What should I try to do with the energy?”

“Start by creating a small light. Like this.”

Maxwallah leaned forward and blew across the moss. Instantly, the glow went out and the Cave of Origins turned pitch-black. Seconds later, a reddish light—enough to see by—appeared in his hand.

“That seemed easy enough,” said Max. “Why does your light have a slightly red tint?”

“Sound and light are closely related. My innate tone corresponds to a shade of red on the color spectrum. Now it is your turn.”

“You sure I won’t set myself on fire?”

Maxwallah rolled his eyes upward to indicate the Sacred Pool hovering above them. “Do not worry. My bucket of water is ready.”

“Okay. What the heck.”

Maxwallah’s light was extinguished and Max found himself in utter darkness again. Having summoned his default memory, with a sense of surrender and love infusing him, he heard the soprano note of his innate tone echoing in his mind.

Nothing happened at first. Then, in amazement, he watched as the Cave of Origins unfolded at the center of his heart like a rose blossoming in time-lapse photography.

His entire body, to his inner sight, glowed like a magical spider web with pulsing energy—which, as he merely observed without attempting to control it, quickly made its way along the web from his heart down his arm into his palm. “Light,” he thought—at which point a dazzling sphere like a miniature sun began to strobe in his hand.

“Turn it down,” instructed Maxwallah, squinting, “before you really do melt yourself.”

“Reading light,” specified Max aloud.

The strobing sun shrank to a small, steady bulb of sorts with a lavender hue.

“Better,” said Maxwallah.

“Why is my light purple?”

“Because your innate tone corresponds to violet.”

“ROYGBIV.”

“Come again?”

“Basic science. ROYGBIV is a mnemonic for red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet.”

“The colors of the rainbow?”

“We’re like bookends. You’re at one end of the visible spectrum with red—and I’m at the other with violet.”

“I cannot say I am surprised.”

“How did I do?”

“Beautifully.”

“Do you honestly think I can learn to fly?”

“I know you can. I just do not know how quickly. How do you feel?”

“Exhausted.”

“I told you you would need your strength. I imagine you are hungry as well?”

“You got that right. What are we going to have for lunch? I was thinking Mexican food.”

“We must see what the afternoon brings. But first, let us have a proper bath. I brought a bar of soap in my pack.”

“Are you joking?”

“Why would I be joking?”

“How do we get back up there from here?”

“We swim, dolphin. Now would be a good time to turn off your light to conserve your strength.”

Max did as directed.

“On the count of three,” continued Maxwallah, “join me in allowing the Cave of Origins to collapse on itself. And be sure to take a big breath.”

“Okay.”

“One, two, three!”

Max breathed deeply just in time. The hot water from above crashed down in the darkness all around him—and suddenly he was kicking upward with everything he had.

He broke the water’s steaming surface just as Maxwallah did. The two grinned, then giggled, then splashed each other like kids. The morning fog had lifted; the sky was blue over the pines; and the day was already warm and getting warmer.

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.

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.