Destination: Akashic Known

Tonight’s reading will take about an hour. If you don’t have the time, or can’t afford to make it, the good news is, this is a work of fiction in motion. One that breathes more life into itself every day. And just as it grows, it will always be here, waiting patiently for you. Eager to tell you of the events happening that are most exciting right now. Eager to be heard.

Now, I plan on doing things much like yesterday, in that there are a number of pages to read, and I wish not keep them from you. I will post the images in sequence with little to nothing in between. I will be posting the entirety of my daily work until you, the free readers, come forth to tell me what you wish to receive for paying a subscription.

What comes to mind initially is doing an audiobook recording for all the pages completed in a week, or by the book, as they stand completed. Perhaps make the first available as a sample, and the rest available by monthly subscription. Here’s where I grant you a ton of creative power: How would you wish me to see returns for my service? I leave it to you.

I tried to reassure myself today: These are initial steps. I don’t know where this is going, but I know I must continue. I know this is the boldest I have ever been in my life. I am knocking on a lot of doors. Trying to introduce myself. Some old walls wish to speak. That’s how it goes. Let’s see how well it’s received.

You will encounter spelling errors. (I’m telling myself this to feel better.) You will encounter things that need time for the reader to figure out. Yes, I’m telling myself this to rest assured that what this is, is more than good enough, as it is all first take, and raw as can be. It’s like seeing someone in their bedroom take their clothes off at night, with the room light on, thinking no one is watching. It’s intimate, and tonight I knocked on doors. That’s the only way to explain it.

Please enjoy. And remember. It’s fiction.

That said, by no means are the opinions stated in this fiction writing at all a reflection of actual events, or specific feelings supported by the author. Remind yourself, all the time, anytime you are reading my work, this is fiction. And if it leaves you feeling butthurt, it’s so that you learn to remind yourself of this fact. It ain’t real. It may sound very real. Places may be real. May sound a lot like what’s happening in my life, but no. Can’t think that, because this is fiction. And upon further inspection, there are no names in which you may pin any of this on anyone at all, and it was done intentionally that way, because this is fucking fiction. And the stuff on freedom of speech, the bottom line is without it, there is no more science fiction. Try sharing this disturbing news to Frank Herbert, as the man is dead and likely won’t hear you, but if here were to, he would be showing you his books on your shelves and how he lives on. Don’t believe me, that’s fine, just go to the theaters in September. You’ll believe me then.

Here you go.

Thanks for reading.

-W.V.Carleton