Posts tagged: shamanic

Will Duane in his own words – Meet Will then vote in my contest

WILL DUANE #1
WILL DUANE #1 Will’s a happy camper here. Why not? He’s got $50 billion and the largest corporation ever to exist.
WILL DUANE #2     
WILL DUANE #2 Here’s our second contender. Handsome, white haired, but is   he Will?
WILL DUANE # 3
WILL DUANE # 3 Looks like it’s “Happy Times Are Here Again” for Will

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I just loaded the articles showing guys that I think could be Will Duane, the hero of my novel Mogollon: A Tale of Mysticism & Mayhem. He’s sort of the hero. A bit crusty and hard to please, but heroic in his heart.

I loaded all these pictures and realized you may know nothing about Will. “Let me … acquaint you!”

Here’s the first chapter Mogollon. Here’s Will in his own words as the book opens:

Chapter 1

Will Duane stared out of the motor home’s tinted window, scowling. The Ashley, his luxurious RV and the hallmark of the Numenon caravan, jolted across the desert in fine form. Will wasn’t doing quite as well.

He turned away from his view, not wanting to face the light. That damned New Mexico sunlight had done something to him. That and all the space. The desert had too much space; it made him feel weird.

He felt as if the core of himself, the hard center that was him, had cracked. He blamed it on the damn light. All day, they’d passed through that bright emptiness. Who he was began to melt away. His control, his purpose, all of him was being undermined.

The terrain did the same thing. All day long dirt, rocks, and cacti surrounded them. Plus those stupid round trees that dotted the landscape like lice. They weren’t even eight feet high. Will hated New Mexico more than he thought possible. They can’t even grow a proper tree.

Will rubbed his chin, feeling a screamer coming on. He would not give in to it. He would stay in control.

“Mark, how much longer?” he shouted.

“It’s right up ahead, Mr. Duane. Over that rise. See the cars.” The driver pointed at a ridge a short distance away. For the last few miles, phalanxes of junker cars from the 1970s had dogged them. Those were their fellow retreat attendees. It was 1997. What kind of people drove cars that old?

Will could see laden vehicles disappearing over the crest. Other cars returned, obviously having dumped their loads. They turned left and entered an enormous parking lot just outside the Mogollon Bowl. Light reflected off the vehicles and hit him like bullets. The parking lot was a junk yard of wrecks with alligatored vinyl tops and mottled paint. He clenched his jaw.

Will sat in his command seat, directly behind the driver, with his back against the cabin’s rear wall.

Looking to his left, Will observed the anxious faces of Betty and Gil. They sat on the banquette that ran along the Ashley’s wall, twisting to see through the big picture window behind them. The opposite wall was covered floor to ceiling with cabinets stuffed with electronic gear, the super computer being the most important. The super computer was the most advanced in existence. Numenon’s technology had been ahead of the pack since the late 1950s when Will founded the corporation.

Will furrowed his brow. Why were Betty, Gil, their driver, and he the only ones in the cabin? When they started, the cabin was almost full. Now there were just four people. Where were the others? He felt so fuzzy; he couldn’t remember what happened five minutes ago.

Sunlight reflected off the chrome of one of the vehicles outside. It struck Will’s eye and he rocked back in his seat. His eyes rolled back and quivered.

Red rock walls rose high above them. He was running, breathing convulsively, sobbing. Thrashing on the ground, fighting. Something crushed him into the rock.

Will blinked, coming back to himself. Something had happened in the desert. He could recall it dimly, like someone else’s dream. Their drive wasn’t just across the desert floor. There had been a canyon, and red cliffs.

He put his hand on his chest. The day before, his doctor told him the tight sensations he felt were nothing. His heart was good. He was okay.

Will rubbed his chin again and tried to remember.

Something came out of the buzzing, disintegrating void inside of him. The old shaman had appeared in the desert in front of them in a golf cart. Will had walked out to him and the light surrounded them. Light had come off the old man, even more than from the sun it seemed. Will had broken down for some reason; he had fallen at the holy man’s feet, sobbing.

Why, why? His disintegration had accelerated since then.

“We’re here,” Mark called. The Ashley pulled over the bank. Will jumped up and grabbed the back of the driver’s chair.

“What is it, Will?” Betty asked. She and Gil moved forward, straining for a look at the sacred place where they would spend the next week.

“Oh, my God,” she said.

The others were speechless.

* * *

Betty peered through the windshield. The Mogollon Bowl spread out before them; as far as she could see, a writhing mass of people were interspersed with camping equipment. Well, some of it was camping equipment. Shabby tents and tarps on poles. Shade canopies on aluminum legs. People unloaded cars and headed back to the parking lot outside the Bowl. Other cars inched around, searching for a place to camp. The Bowl crawled with movement.

That’s all it had; no trees, no lawn, and no structures existed except two derelict buildings in the distance. The Indians’ hallowed  sacred ground looked like the desert they’d crossed, but less interesting. It was rocks and dirt and chaos.

This was the legendary Mogollon Bowl where anyone could become psychic and all of your problems disappeared? Betty thought of all the work she’d done to prepare her brief on Grandfather, the famous shaman who led the retreat, and on those closest to him. On Indian history. On the Bowl itself. For this?

She looked at Will, knowing what his reaction would be. Will only stayed at five-star hotels. Living in the luxurious Ashley was his idea of camping. Her boss’s face grayed with horror. He turned to her, his mouth gaping.

Before Will could speak, Doug Saunders charged out of the bedroom. “Will, I will not stay in this dump! If we have to stay here for a week, I quit.”

Betty glanced at Gil Canao, who looked out the window in glum silence. She opened her mouth to echo Doug’s sentiment, when Will grabbed Doug and hugged him like a grieving father.

“I thought we’d lost you,” Will cried.

With that, the memory descended upon her—what had happened on the drive in. Will lying in that canyon, covered with blood, bones bent at impossible angles, squashed. Really, squashed flat. Doug lay next to him, foam coming out of his mouth, his body bent backward in a crescent arc. Blue and bloodless, both of them.

Her sobs took her by surprise. Her hands went to her face and she doubled over. Will, Gil, and Doug jumped toward her. Will caught her in his arms, and the other two men joined the hug. The minute they touched her, her backbone stiffened. She pulled herself erect, trapped in the circle of solicitous males.

Tears streaked her face. “Oh, I’m sorry. I can’t …” Will handed her his handkerchief. She snatched it gratefully.

“It’s okay, Betty,” they said at once.

But it wasn’t okay. They almost died, all of them. A flash flood would have killed them in that narrow ribbon canyon. Floods happened right now, in early spring. It had been a horrible, horrible trip. But Bud Creeman had saved them.

“We have to find Bud and thank him again.” She looked up at Will. “He was so good to us. Let’s find him, and then let’s leave. Okay, Will?”

Will’s brow lowered and his jaw tightened. “I’ll get you out of here tomorrow, I promise. I’m going to stay.” They stared at him. “I have to stay here—I have business to complete.”

Betty pulled out of her despair enough to stammer, “But, Will, you told us that the mine deal was dead.”

“It is, Betty. I promise you.” He glanced out the windshield. The Indians were beginning to cluster around the Ashley. “I have personal business with Grandfather.”

She had heard so many of Will’s empty promises that she didn’t know what to think. “I want to go home to John.” The tears came again. She wiped her face, conscious that she’d shed more tears in public in the previous five minutes than she had in twenty-eight years of being the head of Will’s secretarial staff. Private tears didn’t count.

“I’ll make arrangements for all of you to leave. You don’t have to deal with this …” Will’s arm swept the crowd outside.

Betty looked out the window. Indians wearing hats and jeans and shirts of every color surrounded the RV. Faces. Braids. Bodies, short and tall; fat and thin. Some were very dark, almost like African Americans. Others were as light as Gil Canao. Their eyes grabbed hers. Black to hazel, those eyes bored into the Ashley, trying to see past the tinted windows. Trying to see them. But they couldn’t, of course.

Not one face was friendly, not one mouth smiled. They stared, a half circle of intense eyes, brown skin, dark hair. The first ring was followed by another, and another. Some began to point at the Ashley and laugh. Two Indians dashed out and stood in front of the vehicle, posing. Others took their picture. They ran back to their friends, laughing uproariously. Another pair came forward for a souvenir photograph, and then another. The crowd roared.

They were laughing at them! The representatives of the largest corporation on the earth. Not representatives—the founder of the largest corporation in history and the richest man in the world, and his top staff.

Betty would have been more offended, but she knew why the Indians were so hostile. Grandfather was retiring from public life in a week, and this was his People’s last chance to spend time with their shaman. And here they were, Will Duane and his fancy Numenon crew, crashing it.

If they dislike us so, what must they think of Grandfather for inviting us? 

More Natives gathered, forming a circle around all five vehicles in the caravan. Betty couldn’t see where the crowd ended.

Will looked out the window. “Drive over them, Mark.”

“I can’t, sir.”

“Why?”

“There’s someone at the door.”

There’s Will and the gang portrayed as they arrive at the Meeting, the retreat run by Grandfather, the famous Native American shaman.

The other articles in this series can be found through the links:

Sandy Nathan
Website #1    Website # 2, the Interactive One!

 

Numenon: A Tale of Mysticism & Money – Silicon Valley’s Corporate Culture Meets a Great Shaman and his People

Have you heard of Numenon: A Tale of Mysticism & Money? You might have. Back in 2009 when it came out,  Numenon was Amazon Kindle’s #1 ranked title in three categories of mysticism for about a year. It cruised around the 1,500th level of Kindle sales, which is phenomenal. I did nothing to promote the book and really didn’t think its performance was anything special. Until it was over.

Now I feel about Numenon the way I feel about all those pictures of myself that weren’t taken when I was young and beautiful. “I only I’d known what would happen . . .” Alas, no time for whining.

I’d like to introduce you to Numenon for the first time, or the second or even third. The fastest way to do it is like this:

Numenon  is the story of a group of people trying to reach their authentic selves, and God. Its characters include the richest man in the world, Will Duane, and a great Native shaman known as Grandfather. The contingent from Numenon, Inc. travel to a retreat given by the shaman in the New Mexico desert. Many things happen as the team makes its way to the retreat site, a supernatural place which is probably the greatest power spot on the planet. Evil strikes when they’re most vulnerable.

Even with all the hoopla and action, the book is essentially about people seeking to fill the aching void in their hearts with something real.

I’ve written about Numenon in other articles, but I want to talk about new things.  Some of these things are pretty obvious, but no one’s asked about them. I also want to show you how it feels to hang out with top Stanford and Harvard MBAs (Master’s in Business Administration), a shaman, and the richest man on earth.

First off, where did I get that hard to pronounce, weird title? What does numenon (or noumenon) mean? It’s the thing-in-itself, reality beyond the material world. We can never know the numenon. All we can know is what comes in through the senses. Our reality is limited to our brains’ interpretation of incoming nerve impulses. We cannot get to the world as it is.  Ever. Immanuel Kant laid out the problem in 1783 with The Prolegomena to Any Future Metaphysics.

Why is this important? It’s the Western equivalent of what Eastern philosophy––Hinduism and Buddhism and other schools of thought––has said forever: the world we live in is an illusion.

Why did Will Duane pick Numenon as the name of his corporation? He’s showing that he’s intellectual, and hip. Also, he has close to a major in philosophy as an undergraduate, a course of study that saved  his life, as it did mine. He’s interested in the numenon, which we can only infer, and its opposite, the phenomenon, experienced reality, with which we’re stuck.

What’s that image on the cover of Numenon? It is based on the Shiva Nataraj, the Dancing Shiva. Shiva is one of the Hindu trinity, the part representing destruction, but which also has a powerful creative backwash. Shiva is also the all-pervasive aspect of God, existing always and everywhere.

Numenon’s founder and CEO, Will Duane, chose the Shiva Nataraj as his corporation’s logo. Numenon is the largest and most powerful corporation in history, named after a difficult philosophical concept. Its icon is the face of God.

We’re not talking about reality TV or game shows here. I write for grown-ups, about big issues. And I don’t write like a girl. I’d give Numenon an R rating if it were a movie.

Numenon won six national awards. Winning the Silver Nautilus in the Bicultural Category was a thrill. The Nautilus Award acknowledges superior books making a contribution to world peace and the evolution of consciousness. People like the Dalai Lama have won it. The Silver Medal in the IPPY Awards (Independent Press Awards) was also a thrill. Thousands of books were entered. Numenon won the Silver Medal in the Visionary Fiction category. The wins in Best Books and Indie Excellence were also thrilling. Numenon won in multiple categories in these awards: Visionary Fiction, Religious Fiction, and Multicultural Fiction.


THE STORY:

Numenon is about the richest man in the world going to a spiritual retreat held by a great Native American shaman.  The book is essentially the Native world juxtaposed against Silicon Valley. It’s a search for God and meaning. The story could easily degenerate into a stereotyped tale about the good, spiritual Natives vs. greedy, bad corporate people. It doesn’t.

LET’S TALK ABOUT THE TWO CULTURES REPRESENTED IN Numenon. WE’LL START WITH SILICON VALLEY. I know most about that. I was born in San Francisco and lived in the heart of what became the Valley most of my life: in the towns/cities of Palo Alto, Cupertino, Atherton, and Woodside.

Numenon’s hero is the richest man in the world. Do you know any extremely successful people––those who made the money themselves? They’re a little different than regular folks.  I haven’t met Bill Gates or any of the planet’s economic luminaries. I have met my dad. He rose from a penniless immigrant to the owner to the 9th largest residential construction company in the US in its heyday. People do not attain that kind of success because they’re lazy or stupid.

My dad moved as fast as a human being can go, dancing on a razor’s edge. He was brilliant, disciplined, and way beyond hard working. Explosive. Demanding. As inspiring as any minister. He had visions prophetic dreams–he wouldn’t call them that, but I  knew what they were when he talked about them. The image of the soulless businessman is incorrect.

What was it like living with him? Like having Secretariat in the kitchen. Thrilling and terrifying.

Will Duane is based somewhat on my dad, and on many other men I knew when I lived in Silicon Valley. He’s not an unusual type, though I think my presentation is unusual in that I present spirituality in a businessman. It shows up differently than it would in a meditation master, but it’s there.

I WAS ASKED HOW I WOULD CAST THE BOOK IF IT WERE MADE INTO A MOVIE.

Starting with the Silicon Valley side:

Ed Harris as Will Duane, the Richest Man in the World

I’d put Ed Harris  in for Will Duane, CEO and founder of Numenon. Ed Harris has the intensity and intelligence, as well as acting ability, to play someone as  powerful, and tormented as Will Duane. I will never forget the visceral pain of Harris’s performance as a gay man dying of AIDs in The Hours.

Will’s staff: Will goes to the Native retreat in a caravan of matched RVs, including his own million-dollar motor home. Over-the-top is the Numenon way. He brings a professional and support staff to the retreat, including a world-class chef. “The Best of the Best: That’s Numenon.”

Will only hires first-in-their-class MBAs (Master’s of Business Administration) from top graduate schools for his personal staff. Do you know what it means to be first in your class at the Harvard Business School or the Stanford Graduate School of Business?

Think Secretariat on speed. You have to be around a major graduate school to feel the intensity, intelligence and competitive drive.

Actually, to get the feel of Silicon Valley, go here: Buck’s of Woodside. Literally go there, for breakfast. Buck’s is a zany restaurant in the laid back and incredibly wealthy Town of Woodside.. The elite of the tech world––venture capitalists or VCs–– meet at Buck’s for breakfast; the action is over at 9AM. Netscape and I don’t know how many other tech firms were created over oatmeal and coffee at Buck’s. I walked in one morning and felt like the turkey we deep-fried last Thanksgiving when it hit the oil. Zapped and sizzling. I’m surprised no one was levitating. A geek sat at every table. Laptops were required, ties were not. Everyone had a deal going down. If you can get to Buck’s, be sure and steal the menu. It’s hysterical. Say hi to Jamis McGiven, the owner, for me. We’re old friends. You gotta feel the vibe to get the Valley.

More on what top business schools and their denizens are like: I was in the doctoral program at Stanford’s Graduate School of Business once (“the year I almost got an ulcer”). One of my fellow doctoral students had been first in his Stanford MBA class before deciding to get a PhD. Really nice guy. He’ll probably take over the world one day.

Hillary Swank as Melissa Weir

That’s the kind of person I’m describing when I say Hillary Swank could play Melissa Weir, the Harvard MBA who is Will Duane’s protégé. Melissa’s achievement in school and at Numenon is astonishing. Hillary is smart, intense, and a super actress. Plus after playing in Million Dollar Baby, she could knock the bad buys into the next county, just like Melissa.

Choosing a photo of Hillary as Melissa was tricky. Most of the photos show her partially undressed and looking sexy, or beat black and blue as in Million Dollar Baby. Your typical top-of-her-class Harvard MBA might go around partially undressed, but not during working hours. She might feel as though she’d been beaten, but most likely, it wouldn’t show. Stuff that happens in boardrooms may hurt, but it won’t leave bruises. I chose the picture of Hillary Swank above because it has that racehorse at top speed. That’s Melissa Weir.

Russell Crowe as Doug Saunders

Russell Crowe would do well as Doug Saunders, Will’s hatchet man and the corporate bad boy. Doug was top of his MBA class at Stanford and has adapted to the Numenon code, which is something like, “If you can screw it, do it.”

Jon Walker––Will Duane's Private Chef

Jon Walker is Will Duane’s private chef, “the best chef in the world.” Numenon culture requires that he be the best. Although he looks about twelve years old in the photo, Jon graduated from Le Condon Bleu in Paris, learning culinary technique as well as restaurant and hospitality management. He cooked at top restaurants in New York, Paris, and San Francisco before working for Will Duane. During Numenon, Jon is grieving the death of his soul mate, ‘Rique Maldonado, a top San Francisco interior designer. ‘Rique died of AIDs.

I’m shining the spotlight on Jon  because he has a major role in the Bloodsong Series. I’ve just completed drafts to two books in which he is a main character.

WHAT ABOUT THE NATIVE AMERICAN SIDE?

Grandfather by Lily Nathan

Grandfather, the shaman who is the heart of Numenon and the whole Bloodsong Series, is impossible to cast. I’ve had the good fortune to study with two meditation masters and a tai chi master. I did this over a long time––about thirty years, all told. When I got within ten feet of  my first meditation master, my brain would bliss out so that I couldn’t think. People in the meditation hall (including me) routinely had experiences similar to those in the Bible. Visions, raptures, prophetic knowledge. Love overflowed in every direction. The experiences I had in long­­––all night, sometimes––chants were so intensely pleasurable that I can imagine nothing better, including everything.

What is being with these giants of humanity like? The lift off factor is amazing. If you don’t get a contact high from them, they’re not the real thing. Any actor playing Grandfather should be able to project the ecstasy so that viewers feel it. He’s not just a cute old guy.

I used the painting of Grandfather above as an indication of what Grandfather might look like. The painting is by Lily Nathan, my daughter.

When I was writing Numenon,  I modeled Joseph Bishop––the name given to Grandfather by white people in the Indian Schools––after the spiritual masters I have known.

I apparently nailed him. One person who had studied with a Native shaman told me, “You really got the shaman. The man I studied with was exactly like that.” I’ve also had Native Americans tell me, “I want to study with Joseph Bishop.” Sorry, he doesn’t exist.

While a number of actors could portray people from  Silicon Valley, no actor could portray  Grandfather and his Power.

OTHER NATIVE AMERICAN CHARACTERS: Four thousand people attend the retreat. All but ten are Natives.  Many casting opportunities exist. I’ll pick a few.

Wesley Silverhorse has a small part in Numenon. His part is larger in Mogollon, Numenon’s sequel, and keeps going through the rest of the Bloodsong Series. But he could have a one-line part and take over the book. He’s that spectacular.

Wesley Silverhorse is an archetype. The word “archetype” derives from the Greek and Latin, meaning  “beginning, origin” and “pattern, model, type.” An archetype is the pattern for a certain type of human being. Many archetypes exist. The earth mother, seductress, child, hero, martyr, wise old man/woman, warrior, mentor, and trickster are archetypes. Oh, yeah, the devil, aka Satan, is an archetype.

The easiest way to explain archetypes is to tell a story. Numenon has been around in draft form since 1995. The character Wesley Silverhorse popped into my mind early on. He is an archetype known as: The Babe. He’s gorgeous. As the Hero, he’s also kind, and smart, empathetic,  brave, and as spiritually adept as most saints. He’s an unbeatable Warrior. Because of his spiritual Powers, the People believe he will be Grandfather’s successor. He is so good looking that even old ladies like me swoon imagining his comely form.

Wesley Silverhorse became a fixture in my family’s life. If I was driving with my daughters and saw a fantastic looking, maybe Native, guy, I’d shout out, “Whoa! Is he Wesley?” The girls would respond, “Nah, that guy back on University Ave. was better.”

This developed into a code. A man could be “half a Wesley” or a “quarter of a Wesley.” We never got a full Wesley, no one could be that good-looking, but the search was fun. It was a great way to bond with my daughters. Try it with your kids.

The point being that Wesley can’t exist in the real world. Nothing is as glowing as the contents of consciousness, and Wesley is that––the construction of my subconscious. (A note about this. Archetypes can be dangerous. They are mesmerizing, and very powerful psychologically. If you find someone who looks like Wesley and toss your hubbie of thirty years in a lust-flavored rush, that is almost certainly a mistake.)

So, who would I cast as Wesley Silverhorse? I started by doing basic research, Googling Beautiful Native American Men. This search provided many tantalizing possibilities. Check it out. Everyone needs inspiration.

I quickly settled on (drumroll . . .) Rick Mora. You’ll see him all over (and see pretty much all of him) on his website and the Beautiful Native American Men search. He comes about as close to the fictitious Wesley Silverhorse as I can imagine. (In the interest of scholarly investigation, I will keep looking, of course.)

The only person in the world better looking than Wesley Silverhorse is his younger brother, Benny. Rick Mora could play him, too. (I chose the photo below with a horse peeking out because Wesley & Benny Silverhorse are superb horsemen. Being raised on a ranch in Wyoming will do that.)

Rick Mora

Exceptionally beautiful people face a problem: objectification. Admirers turn them into collections of body parts and take away their essence. Beautiful people have many qualities in addition to their looks: moral principles,  feelings, values, will, drive, intelligence, loyalty, love, fidelity and many other talents and attributes.  Those who focus on looks alone miss all that and reduce human beings to objects. A loss for everyone.

Traditionally, women have been objectified most: Marilyn Monroe and all the Playboy centerfolds. Now men are being objectified by women. Jon Hamm (the astonishingly good-looking star of Mad Men) has complained of this. Here’s an article about it (Don’t be shocked. This article has some pretty explicit discussion. It’s also funny.)

I’m sorry, Mr. Mora, if I have objectified you. I’d like to invite readers to check out his web site. He’s involved with a number of causes and is way more than a pretty face.

Other Native American cast membersThe characters go on and on––this book would be a Native American actors’ Stimulus Package if made into a film. (I’d settle for a mini-series like Game of Thrones . . .)

Sacheen Littlefeather

Elizabeth Bright Eagle, MD, MPH is one of the most important characters in the book. Dr. Bright Eagle is an internationally respected physician and philanthropist. The only things she can do better than heal are shoot and ride. Elizabeth was born and raised on her family’s cattle ranch in southeastern Oregon. She’s my kind of heroine.

Actress Sacheen Littlefeather attained notice when she turned town the Academy Award on behalf of Marlon Brando. Brando was protesting the treatment of Native Americans in films. I think she’d make a great Elizabeth.

 

 

 

Adam Beach as Bud Creeman

Bud Creeman is another of my favorite characters. Constantly underrated by everyone but Grandfather, Bud saves the day. He has a lovely sweetness and essential kindness. Adam Beach could to this role. Unfortunately, to play Bud, he’d have to gain forty pounds and age  fifteen years.



 

 

 

Wes Studi

 

Wes Studi could play a few parts. He’s got all the intensity of Ed Harris. Wes could play Dr. Tyler Brand, the very cool Native American professor and spirit warrior. Or Paul Running Bird, Mr. Sleaze.

 

 

 

 

Tantoo Cardinal

Tantoo Cardinal


Tantoo Cardinal could play Leona Brand, Tyler Brand’s politician wife.

 

 

 

 

 

Irene Bedard

Irene Bedard

 

Irene Bedard should be in the film just because she’s beautiful. She could play half a dozen parts.

 

 

 

 

 

We talked about Wesley Silverhorse being an archetype. Do other archetypes show up? All the characters I’ve discussed are archetypes. There’s another big one: When you’re talking about ultimate good, what arises in response? Ultimate evil. What’s that? The Dark Lord, Satan.

The only thing I like better than writing good guys is writing bad guys. The writing starts to sizzle when the villain appears. The Dark Lord has a bit part in Numenon and a major part in Mogollon, its sequel. Which I’m working on . . .

That’s it. If you want to buy the book, you can get it on Amazon as a hardback or a Kindle version. The hardback is beautiful. You can also get the hardback from me for less than half of what Amazon’s charging.

 Here’s the book on my web site, which talks about Numenon’s six national awards and what reviewers and experts have said about it.

Numenon: A Tale of Mysticism & Money

Why am I telling you this? Because NUMENON’S sequel,  MOGOLLON: A TALE OF MYSTICISM & MAYHEM, is coming. You might as well  read NUMENON so you’ll be up to speed when all hell really breaks loose.

SANDY’S AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

LINKS TO SANDY’S SIX BOOKS!
They range from wild sci-fi to adorable children’s nonfiction. You’ll find something you’ll like in the list below:

  • NUMENON,  a novel about the richest man in the world meeting a great Native American shaman
  • STEPPING OFF THE EDGE, a modern day spiritual companion
  • TECOLOTE, the adorable kids’ book about a baby horse.
  • EARTH’S END––the new, three book sci-fi/fantasy/visionary series that takes you to the end of the world, and beyond.
    The Angel & the Brown-Eyed Boy––Tomorrow morning, a nuclear holocaust will destroy all life on Earth. Only two people can stop it: a sixteen-year-old tech genius and revolutionary and an angelic visitor from another planet.
    Lady Grace––The radiation has cleared. A few survivors make it back to Piermont Manor to start a new life. What they face is a battle more deadly than any they’ve fought. Right away they learn that evolution can work for evil as well as good.
    The Headman & the Assassin––He knew her job was murder––murdering people that is. Sam Baahuhd had been the village headman for 22 years when a nuclear holocaust forces him and the ninety plus other villagers into an underground bomb shelter. When Sam carries a naked stranger into the shelter minutes before the bombs go off, he has no idea that she will set his life on fire.

 

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