Blantant Self Promotion: The Aeon Calling

And as the Earth rose like blue and white flower over the Moon’s horizon, the Sangoma lay in her bed and called on her ancestors to take her to them. Scraps of red white and blue fabric, fine sculptures in aluminium, littered the Moon’s dusty surface like summer’s left over toys in a child’s sand pit, mere clues to the plundering activities of the occupants of the nearby planet – evidence not yet visible on her serene face. The Sangoma could feel her body in a way she’d never felt it before. Every muscle, every organ hung within the envelope of her tingling skin, solid and real, like the bones within her divining bag, each separated and significant. And on the moon’s outward face, the face never seen by his radiant mother, his demons crouched in cold darkness, whispering their bodily desires - their shame – bragging of past conquests and touching themselves for comfort. And the demons glanced up from their dusty exile, like gargoyles from another time, as the Sangoma’s last breath passed them, glittering molecules of pure thought, accelerating away to infinite light amongst the whirling stars of her ancestors.

Some of you may have noticed the blue link in the sidebar encouraging you to ‘buy this book’.
The Aeon Calling was written a few years ago; before I formed this crooked line that constitutes The Far Queue. It was my third attempt at a novel and ended up as amalgam of autobiographic events and pure fantasy.
While my portrayals of the various places are not particularly descriptive, I had hoped to be able to evoke the spirit of the places as seen through the eyes of a self involved and obsessed lover – for the Aeon Calling is primarily a love story.
The characters too, although sketchy for the most part (once more belying self involvement on the part of the protagonist Alex Brown) hopefully portray some of the essence of the my personal archetypes – racist South African killers, Glaswegian neds or the monkey on your back.
The dark thread of the Tarot that runs through the story is perhaps a manifestation of my mother's deep superstitious fears and the profound effect her dramatic 'rebirth' as a evangelical christian had on my family. (an event that is almost certainly the root of my own atheism.)
The autobiographical elements in this story amount to the possibility that Alex Brown could have been someone who grew up in the same place as I did and endured similar formative events and experiences - the story is however, nothing like my own

Perhaps you may be tempted to get your hands on The Aeon Calling, and hopefully you will find something in it that will keep you attention for longer than the next American Idol.
I would welcome any comments/critism/psychoanalysis from anyone who has read the Aeon Calling

Interested? Follow the link to Lulu.