Submitted by Penguin Blog (USA) Visitor (not verified) on Mon, 09/10/2007 - 3:44am.
Senior Pinchbeckian,
A while ago, I visited Malaprop's Bookstore in Asheville, NC, where I gave your book 2012 a brief perusing. As I placed your book back on the shelf, I felt a sixth-sensory gravitation toward it, as if I was supposed to be taking your meaningful literary work home with me. I did not purchase it at that point, as I did not know who you were or how good the book was.
Five months later, I bought Breaking Open the Head. I have always been interested in psychotomimetics and tribal cultures. Shamanism always intrigued me and I wanted to learn more. I snuck away from my family, while we on our summer road trip, to read it and receive bursts of ephemeral flight.
I used to frequent Grateful Dead shows at an early age. I spent a lot of my youth with my third eye open. A great deal of my youth was spent seeing for myself. I have seen millions of tight, spirals in undulating hues covering living organisms while tripping. LSD, mescaline and cubensis, however no DMT. After completing Breaking Open the Head, which, by the way, was the most refreshing read I've had in a long time, I went into the bookstore to look for a new book. Somehow, (mind you, I did not know you wrote 2012 at this point) 2012 just found its way into my hands. I looked at the cover and lost it when I realized that you were the author. Maybe it is because I have experienced many psychedelic experiences in my lifetime that I have had such a multitude of synchronicity, but one thing is for sure, I was supposed to read 2012. I didn't pick it, it picked me ... that's synchronicity, brother.
I am also a writer, although I'm still stuck in the fiction slush pile. Mr. Pinchbeck, as a loyal, grateful fan of yours, I'd like to ask you a question. Why has my vivid imagination been at odds with reality all through my life? Up until I turned 29 years old, I often felt like the broken windshield wiper from the analogy in the film Killing Zoe.
I'm trying to get an agent for what I know is the absolute greatest piece of poetic fiction that I've ever written. It's called Kaufnauphia. I know now what I didn't know when I began my continually rhyming, 30,000 word, fantasy verse novella. Being that this story is about a man who snaps himself free from the depression umbilical currently connecting every human in the modern world, and that his adventure paves the way for other human beings to find keys that lead them into their own revelatory adventures of self-consciousness, I can make this a series. If each new protagonist in every new book I write as a part of the series, undergoes a transformation through the removal of their personal melancholy, I will be able to demonstrate from a fictional standpoint, how a planetary shift in consciousness takes place. This could ultimately pull us into a positively charged noosphere. Word.
The book opens with Stephen (Steph) Vernon, a lonely forty-something who suffers from depression brought on by the loss of his wife and father. On this particular evening, Stephen enters the creek on his property to search for crayfish, his weekly routine. Under a rock, he finds a glowing key with a strange symbol embedded in its side. He attempts to dispose of the key, but it returns, and directs him to a pair of newly-formed cellar doors. Stephen opens the doors, navigates through a tunnel and ventures into the strange land of Kaufnauphia. As he travels through this bizarre land, Stephen meets an odd cast of creatures who inform him that he must save Kaufnauphia from impending chaos, but in order to do so, he must also save himself from depression through a series of personal revelations—hope, trust, perseverance, acceptance, forgiveness, and love.
If you read this post, that is just f&@!ing awesome. If you wish to give me any, and I mean any, advice as a writer, I am all ears and eyes. I would be humbled, honored and ecstatic to get advice from you. You have got a gift, brother. Can't wait for your next book.
my cart |
Synchronicity led me to pick up 2012
Senior Pinchbeckian,
A while ago, I visited Malaprop's Bookstore in Asheville, NC, where I gave your book 2012 a brief perusing. As I placed your book back on the shelf, I felt a sixth-sensory gravitation toward it, as if I was supposed to be taking your meaningful literary work home with me. I did not purchase it at that point, as I did not know who you were or how good the book was.
Five months later, I bought Breaking Open the Head. I have always been interested in psychotomimetics and tribal cultures. Shamanism always intrigued me and I wanted to learn more. I snuck away from my family, while we on our summer road trip, to read it and receive bursts of ephemeral flight.
I used to frequent Grateful Dead shows at an early age. I spent a lot of my youth with my third eye open. A great deal of my youth was spent seeing for myself. I have seen millions of tight, spirals in undulating hues covering living organisms while tripping. LSD, mescaline and cubensis, however no DMT. After completing Breaking Open the Head, which, by the way, was the most refreshing read I've had in a long time, I went into the bookstore to look for a new book. Somehow, (mind you, I did not know you wrote 2012 at this point) 2012 just found its way into my hands. I looked at the cover and lost it when I realized that you were the author. Maybe it is because I have experienced many psychedelic experiences in my lifetime that I have had such a multitude of synchronicity, but one thing is for sure, I was supposed to read 2012. I didn't pick it, it picked me ... that's synchronicity, brother.
I am also a writer, although I'm still stuck in the fiction slush pile. Mr. Pinchbeck, as a loyal, grateful fan of yours, I'd like to ask you a question. Why has my vivid imagination been at odds with reality all through my life? Up until I turned 29 years old, I often felt like the broken windshield wiper from the analogy in the film Killing Zoe.
I'm trying to get an agent for what I know is the absolute greatest piece of poetic fiction that I've ever written. It's called Kaufnauphia. I know now what I didn't know when I began my continually rhyming, 30,000 word, fantasy verse novella. Being that this story is about a man who snaps himself free from the depression umbilical currently connecting every human in the modern world, and that his adventure paves the way for other human beings to find keys that lead them into their own revelatory adventures of self-consciousness, I can make this a series. If each new protagonist in every new book I write as a part of the series, undergoes a transformation through the removal of their personal melancholy, I will be able to demonstrate from a fictional standpoint, how a planetary shift in consciousness takes place. This could ultimately pull us into a positively charged noosphere. Word.
The book opens with Stephen (Steph) Vernon, a lonely forty-something who suffers from depression brought on by the loss of his wife and father. On this particular evening, Stephen enters the creek on his property to search for crayfish, his weekly routine. Under a rock, he finds a glowing key with a strange symbol embedded in its side. He attempts to dispose of the key, but it returns, and directs him to a pair of newly-formed cellar doors. Stephen opens the doors, navigates through a tunnel and ventures into the strange land of Kaufnauphia. As he travels through this bizarre land, Stephen meets an odd cast of creatures who inform him that he must save Kaufnauphia from impending chaos, but in order to do so, he must also save himself from depression through a series of personal revelations—hope, trust, perseverance, acceptance, forgiveness, and love.
If you read this post, that is just f&@!ing awesome. If you wish to give me any, and I mean any, advice as a writer, I am all ears and eyes. I would be humbled, honored and ecstatic to get advice from you. You have got a gift, brother. Can't wait for your next book.
Sincerely,
Jason Panutsos