Ideas for working titles

The Inside World Trilogy

Book one: Seedling
Book two: Plantasia
Book three: Expansion

Miscarriage Catharsis

A rough sketch of a vision...

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Prem reached inside her belly and pulled out the fetus. His telekinetic hands slipped into her round abdomen and her face went slack with shock and she gave a pained, "oh.". . I could see his psychic arms moving, and then he withdrew.  In the grasp of his psionic energy, floated a living fetus, stolen from utero.  

The baby's mother screamed. Then she looked down, her face stricken and ghastly white, hands going to grab at her rapidly shrinking belly.   Her mind slammed into mine when she grasped what had happened.  Her mouth twisted and a traumatized keen pierced me inside and out, her head hanging on her neck like rotten fruit about to drop, eyes bulging. 

DISBELIEF-DENIAL-REALIZATION-RAGE, and a deep and cataclysmic DEPRESSION rocked my mind.  Emotions flooded me, the sheer GRIEF seemed impossible to bear!  I grit my teeth and struggled to block out the telepathic sharing, the impossible pain of feeling a child ripped from this woman's body.  I found myself at the cusp of unconsciousness in the tormented well of her sadness, her womb now empty, where just a few breaths before she and her baby had been connected. The soul-jarring misery which overcame me gushed with an evil foreboding of what was to come. Before I could even blink and move to stop what I knew would happen, she had pulled out a dagger from her boot and took it to her throat, and drew a red smile gushing blood just under her jawline. The bright fluid spilled over her chest and her painful throbbing inside my brain abruptly stopped.

I was left breathless and fragile, tears hanging in my eyes.  Her energetic frequency floated away, and it was a mercy.  I wish I'd never had to experience her grief.  

Prem laughed and floated the fetus away from its dead mother, hand outstretched in the working of  his telekinesis and transmutation, his angular face etched with wonder at what he had just done.  Prem was nothing if not impressed with himself.  Satisfaction radiated from his mind to mine.  

He had placed the tiny fetus floated in an circle of pale blue light.  It solidified and became a sack.  The fetus floated within the sphere, looking pink and scrawny.  Half developed, it's tiny fingers twitched and the doll-like face seemed to grimace in expression. I watched in disbelief when Prem took his hands to it.  I shuddered when he stroked the fetus's delicate back, the skin so paper-thin I could see the organs and veins beneath.  The whole fetus twitched in response.  I felt aversion to seeing him make contact with a half-cooked human.  My hands pressed over my mouth and I wondered if I would vomit.  Telepathically, I sent him,  Prem!  Stop it!  What are you doing ??

He turned his head at my thought, frowning as though I'd interrupted him. He fixed me in his mad electric blue eyes and sent back,   I don't need her.  I can gestate it myself.  

But...but the mother!  Horror shook me.  "You killed her.  You made her kill herself!"

His grin parted, teeth shining.  I only pushed her over the edge.  It wasn't very hard.  She was already mostly there.  And I don't need her anymore.    Aloud, he said smugly, "Don't grieve for her, blockhead.  She was no longer needed.  The fetus is mine now."  

I tried to understand.  My voice whispered, "Why are you doing this?  What do you want with human offspring?"  

"This one is only the beginning," he told me.    "There will be many many more."

"What are you going to do with them?"

He smiled at me.  "I'm farming them. What else?"

"I...don't understand."

I didn't think I wanted to understand.  

He laughed again, gaily, glancing over to the mother, motionless in a pool of blood.  "I intend to put them to good use.  It's time to give humanity the enhancements that they think they deserve.  I wonder if they will still want them when they get them."

Doctor Irea Damarri regarding Host 14: The Being Known as Prem

 "Prem creates monsters, and monstrous situations. He is the personification of human greed, arrogance, fear, death, madness and just about every negative emotion there is. He brought so much misery, death, destruction and trauma to the world, that just the mere mention of his name twenty-years later brings anxiety to all on Axia Station."

“Rowan Hanso made the decision to create a super-seed. He accelerated the evolution of the seed, and placed it into a host designed to receive it. The host was Prem.”

“What was Prem good at?” I asked curiously.

Irea's mouth folded in a line. “He was good at everything. Telepathy, teleportation, kinetics, metamorphing. His specialty seemed to be transmutation. The only thing he couldn't do was to tell the future. Therefore he was obsessed with it.”

“We couldn't keep up with him. No boundary was too much for him. His teleportation was too powerful. He could move himself from every barrier. He wouldn't be contained. He could leap from place to place inside the Station. He came and went where he pleased. Besides from being just an experiment, he became involved in our work. He stopped being the experiment and started being the psientist.   He made us all his test subjects in sick and twisted experiments.  And there was little we could do about it."

“The situation got out of control very quickly. His obsession with the future became all he could think about.  Strange events began to occur on the Station, fractures in space.   We began to suspect Prem had an ability to jump timelines. We knew we had to contain him. But how do you contain something that won't be restrained in any way?”

“Prem started changing. When his seed became activated, we knew he was powerful. But we didn't realize how devastating he could be. Or could want to be. Geneva are intelligent beings. We knew that from the beginning. We thought that meant we could reason with geneva and communicate on the same levels of understanding. But this is impossible when you have beings so powerful with so little life experience and with very strong egos."

Prem's primary ability was transmutation. He could make anything become anything he wished. He was so good at it that he shouldn't exist. The fabric of space-time would ripple in every space he inhabited. He would break the world if he continued to be alive and if his seed continued to activate. He could change everything fundamentally about the way humans experience existence. So we decided to kill him. Rowan Hanso decided to go to war against Prem."

 “It didn't turn out well. Prem opened a gate to Hell. It still drives me mad how casually he did it. He brought so much ruin upon the Station that it's only a miracle that it's still here. The exposure to so much psin radiation took my youth and beauty from me. I wilted in the face of all that black terror.   We all did.  But at least we finally contained the problem.   Nobody outside of Axia Station even knows what happened."

I, Mother

I'm exploring a character's dark side.  Paetreyl.  I have to do it.   He gets pretty freaking evil at a few points.  But it's very exciting and I gotta say...I know this part of him pretty well.   He's basically a good soul who has gone astray.   But redemption is possible for everybody.  I TRULY believe that.

I'm pretty sure Velkess is related to Prem in some way also.   It's the logical conclusion their mutual energy fields result in.   Maybe a long-lost relative, or he just "planted" himself inside of her somehow.  

You see lately, I have just been attempting to get organized.  The players are taking their positions and we are just going to roll with it.   Believe it or not this blog is going to help me stay organized.    And there are certain things I just want to get into, talk about, vocalize.

So I've written about 2000 words since 3 days ago.  That's pretty good I guess...better then nothing.   It's SOMETHING.  A new chapter, in a new timeline.  And it's something I think I will be able to use.   My novel-writing process is so chaotic, but I think I can see SOMETHING beginning to form, through the dust.  

I'm channeling a lot of energy into it right now.   In between being a mom, house chores, socializing.   I'm just sort of zeroing in and allowing it to happen.  I'm making space for it.  Like when Eros takes the baby in the morning and I have about 2-3 hours to do whatever I want...whether that's exercise, writing or sleeping.    So there is that time to make use of, and that's a great thing.  Then there's the evening time...I'm usually so tired by then I just relax and eat (don't get much time to eat during the day) or I spend a bit of time writing.  I'm just returning to it more and more.  My days feel so full I feel like I'm getting cosmic downloads a lot faster.

So making better use of my time is paramount.  It's KEY.

The writing is sort of essential for my sanity.  BIG TIME.

That's the way it's always been, but lately it seems more significant then ever to express myself and seek completion through writing.  I can't explain it.  Maybe it's the baby's presence.  He is helping me get organized.   He does have the Cross of Planning, in his Human Design chart.  I think he is psychically teaching me something about getting together.  God, I love that little guy!

Speaking of the baby, he is at the stage where he REALLY seems to enjoy music.    It's pretty awesome to see him enjoying it so much. . He loves beautiful sounds.   He's getting to be SO cute.  5 months old this week.  

At this point I feel as though I'm living two different lives.   I have my writer's world where nothing is taboo to write and let loose about, and then my motherly world, where I am careful about everything I do or say in front of the baby.   Believe it or not this actually works out to my benefit.  I like having this rich writers world hidden underneath the surface of my mothering.  It feels really exciting...like I feel like the SUCTION to the Otherworld is stronger this way.

Flowy Gush.

The real trick is seeing Paetreyl in everyone.

I wanted to talk a little about how my experience as a mother has affected my relationship with him.

During my pregnancy, we hardly communicated at all. Sometimes I would see him giving me a little knowing smirk (who knows what that meant) but we didn't really exchange words at all. Creatively, I felt stunted; blocked up. Like I was PLUGGED. The first part of my pregnancy I wrote on my book quite a bit, but gradually I lost more and more interest. The hormones being what they were in pregnancy, I had no desire to work on my novel at all. I couldn't care less actually, funny enough.

I still don't. But things are better. I am more in touch with him. Being a mother puts me in a space where I feel like I have to “Be On” all the time, constantly. An effect of this phenomenon is greater contact with, well, everything around me, inside of me, etc. It can get so overwhelming...to Be On all the time. So the best way to manage the energy, is to simply funnel it into something. So since I've had the baby I've been changing the way I function on a fundamental life level. And I realize that the way you deal with having to be constantly On all the time, for the sake of another being, is to be artistic, creative. For me, this means constantly funneling all that awareness into my creative centers.

Here's the weird thing; I feel like HAVING the baby unblocked me in some way. It popped my creative cork or something, to have Caspian burst forth from me. I feel so much more...FLOWY, I guess, since he came into my life. And yet more determined and driven then ever, like a GUSH of something ethereal is still pouring forth from me.

In life, you have to assume that everything you do or say is being monitored in some way. Even when you think you're alone, you're not. So you have to be ON, all the time, because you ALREADY have an audience. You are being watched RIGHT NOW, with interest. From what, or who? I can't say. There are a few opinions out there. But I'm looking really really far out, really really high up, to take a peek into WHO is watching my every move. It's not the Government, though I'm sure they are too. It's something else...some Spirit who is observing everything I do, waiting for my next breakdown, waiting for my next breakthrough.

That's Paetreyl. At least, that's who it is, to my perception. My Friend in Spirit, from another world, in another place and time.

So right now, we are in tentative contact. At least, I'm aware of him being aware of me. And that's a really positive place to be as a writer. Someone who wants to tell his story for him. He's just WATCHING and trying not to bother me so much. But I think he is taking an interest into this whole process of me being a mother. I don't know why...the experience simply seems to connect us more at the seams. It seems to hem us together in a way we've never been before. My CONTACT, which is to say my awareness, of Paetreyl, a sense of living spirit, has increased. I am being pushed to my limits as a mom. I'm only 4 months in, and I strive to be activated for every moment of the day. I'm fully aware of the tender soul on my hands at all times. Paetreyl watches this in me, sees me compelled to care for this little being so completely there is never anything lacking...and he wants this. He's fascinated by this type of love.

He's not what a lot of people in his world think of him. He has been wholly misrepresented, through the ages. They think he is a monster, whom they must worship. They are in a web of lies created by their own fears about him. At least, that's what Paetreyl says. Like any good reporter, I strive to get the whole story about him. I want him to tell me everything through a telepathic link; and once we are joined, once we are connected in just the right way, there is no way he can hide the truth of what he is, to me.

Some people think him a demon. Some people think him an angel. Some people just think he's a human being, like us. He's never anything really, besides what we see him as. What he and I have in common is that we both roll our eyes at our respective worlds, and say, “Whatever.”

In our universe(s), you really got to just tuck yourself into a groove. And forget about everyone else.

Sometimes you have to write about things that hurt the brain to think about. The catch is keeping it away from who you are. You're just the vessel. You're just the conduit. The message has nothing to do with YOU.

Paetreyl's great nemesis is Prem. The most AWFUL THING. The disastrous, hideous, frightening, black, evil, putrid THING. All humans have it in them. All of them are inherently terrified of it. And it can take any form there is. It's the Thing that Ruins Everything. It's murderous, to say the least, and epically twisted. It's the thing that dismembers you and feeds you to itself. Prem: The Zombie God.

You can push your illusion on anyone, if you're Prem. That's what makes him so terrifying. Ninth Circle Beings aren't anything to sneer at. You'd just better run.

When you have a baby, you become a portal to the Beyond. Like it or not that's sort of how it is. Then it feels like once your portal has been opened, the Beyond just streams in through. I'm still in “Beyond” mode since having the baby. Feeling like what I did was very very important, incredible and soul empowering. Because it seems like a HUGE DEAL, in retrospect; to have a baby. Much MUCH more huge of the deal then I'd ever thought, before Elan came out of me.

Because it feels so HUGE (...”I had a baby...” is the thought that occasionally hits me) I tend to see life so differently then I did before. The very experience is like nothing I've ever felt before. I've never had these hormones before, this body before. The body I have now is totally different. And you just got to accept that. The way I feel, hormonally, is totally separate and unique to anything I felt previous to the birth. For some reason I just really feel that having Caspian has OPENED me in so many ways. It's realigned everything that I am, and it's something you just got to get used to. There's no going back afterward.

I have definitely gotten more OCD since having the baby. I feel...like I have to just stay constantly busy. Like I seriously need to get things done. The work of a mom is NEVER done. I think I'm just now realizing what it means to be someones mother. It means stay ON for the baby's sake...100% of the time. Your awareness must be at fever pitch, at its highest vibration all the time. But it's not hard to do...because hormonally, Nature wants you there, at that spot, for your baby...IF you accept the new level of openness that is inside of you.

My friend Paetreyl is a telepath. To get into a telepath's head isn't always easy. But don't bother trying. If they want to get into yours, they will. You can always trust a telepath to make contact FIRST. Don't worry about it...you'll likely be hearing from them even if they don't first make themselves apparent.

They are driven to communicate, every one.

There's some sort of technological-biology thing going on with Paetreyl. I've been trying to figure it out for ages, but the exact composition of who he is remains to be seen. Something alien. Something off. He's nothing like you'd think he is. Maybe he has nano's inside of him.

So I don't bother getting into his head. He shares with me, and he wants to tell me everything. He's lived for century upon century, and I have the feeling that things are coming to a close for him in some way. So he dumps loads of information on me, stuff that just all seems connected to the same Story. Like it's all part of the same thing that he urgently wants me to take note off. I do take note...how couldn't I note. Experiencing what I write is practically orgasmic to me. Whatever flows through, feels like birth...like the portal is open, pouring forth it's lingo.

When Caspian's head popped out of my yoni...it felt INCREDIBLE.

The contractions, the pushing...felt crazy painful. But when his head finally popped out, it was like a blast of YESSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!