Two days ago, a double-murder-convicted prison escapee crashed a stolen car in a neighborhood across the river. Shortly thereafter, his shoe was found on a nearby boat ramp, implying he might have taken a swim over to our side.
See the featured image. I don’t want to find him hiding under the stairs. We’re locking doors, burning outdoor lights, setting the alarm, and packing heat.
The latter is a practice to which I’m not unaccustomed. Since Indiana is a reasonably enlightened state, the issue isn’t whether or not to carry, but rather what to carry.
Reincarnation! It’s not just for Buddhists anymore!
In the solitary middle of his years, Glenn Mehrenholz begins to dream about the temple of Hera at Paestum in the old, old days when southern Italy was part of Greece. There, standing upon a shiny marble floor (not a ruin, like it is today), a furry, foxlike lady speaking Sanskrit says she knows him by another name.
Spooky, right? You might wonder, “Why Sanskrit instead of Greek or Latin?” If so, high marks. You must have paid attention in eighth grade.
Things happen. Exciting things. Things you’ll want to know about. For instance, aliens from another planet get themselves outed by the U.S. Air Force, whereupon they confess to having colonized Earth during the last Ice Age — although not in a bad way.
“Surprise!” say the furry aliens. (Remember the lady in the first paragraph?) “We’re here! Always have been. Sorry. It was a secret.”
In due time, the concept’s existential threats are trotted out. (1) Impending cosmic disaster. (2) A power struggle on nearby Jivada. (3) The Unseen are stirring in their nest, which could be a problem for everybody. According to authors I follow on the Internet, every tale needs tension. I made sure to include plenty of it.
So, by way of explainment, I refer you to what happened to the Dalai Lama, who was recognized as the reincarnation of the previous Dalai Lama when he was two years old. Right there, in real life, a person’s normal existence was replaced with a noble quest, whether he liked it or not.
This is what’s happening to Glenn. He’s a ghost of ancient Vidura, an instrument of destiny, a man with worlds to save.
Don’t say it’s preposterous. I just demonstrated, with facts, how it isn’t.
It’s an epic story. I should know. I made it all up myself. Are you shopping for books with happy endings? Our hero marries a neurologist ten years his junior, although that’s not actually how it ends. You still have to read the book.
Notwithstanding what I just said, Ghosts of Ancient Vidura really is literary Sci-Fi. All my titles are #kindleunlimited. Click below to read a few chapters for free!
Not with the patience of a cat; I have too many things to do. But I did notice, out of the corner of an eye, the appearance of Vivek Ramaswamy on the campaign trail — polling at 1.5% alongside Mike Pence, which isn’t great although it’s certainly more attention than I’m getting.
So, good for him. The man has an interesting story and an energizing message. If you care about politics, you might take a look.
After a few weeks working on the ninth (and presumably last) volume in the Anye Universe books, I’ve decided to give it a rest. The fourth book has lain fallow long enough for a fresh restart, so that’s what I’ll do until inspired to switch horses again.
Here’s a look at the first chapter of Vacuum Forged after some brutal cutting. Who knows what it’ll look like a month from now.
Part 1 – Chapter 0
First House, Planet Vidura, 70,000 BCE
Upon the sixth anniversary of First House’s instantiation, Master Sa summoned his three most important cub-school students to tell them what they were.
Spring was early in the Northern Reach. The scent of young blossoms drifted through parlor doors. Birdsong rang in the air. Tree pollen tickled noses. It was all, said Master Sa, an artful deception. “We call it the Anodyne Virtuality.”
John Dyer Writes 
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