The Tower Card - It's the End of Your World

I am in a writing workshop this week giving birth to the second novel in the Tarot Series, and it is trying to come out breech.  My lovely niece just gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, so she might disagree that my process is similar. The first book will shortly be available in both hard copies and as an E-book, so I am going to print a small sample here, so you can get a taste of the style and the content.  These are the very first paragraphs of the book:


PROLOGUE - THE TOWER CARD

This is the story, the journey of Adam, who here will move from deep sleep to blessed awakening. He is me – but he is another seeker. Like me, his whole world will need to fall into shambles before he can become his true Self.


It started downtown on the plaza – it was a fundraiser for the town museum. There was a scattering of homemade booths selling baked goods next to the farmers’ market. She, Cherie, was busy as usual making the rounds. She would chat up every wealthy person – man or woman – she could spot. At some point she would laugh and throw back her head full of thick yellow hair, laying her hand softly on the arms of silver-haired gentlemen who would delight at her touch and her attention, cementing her into their memory next time they wanted to buy or sell a house. Or, they would send her their friend from the city who needed a wine country retreat and who expected to be treated with due deference.

She would not surface for hours, and the husband, Adam, would be reduced to amusing himself with looking at fresh Bing cherries and tables of pottery. At one point, when she had completely focused her attention on another, Adam saw his opening and pulled away from her considerable gravity.

He was moving to the center of the plaza when he noticed a small child, a little girl about three years old, looking all around for what must be a missing parent, just on the brink of tears. Adam conducted a quick search of the area looking for any potential owners, and then he squatted down to engage the small being. She was a cherub with beautiful red curls falling over her eyes and onto her red tinted cheeks. She was on the edge of exploding. He said, “Where is your mommy?”

At the word “mommy” she roared with overwhelming fear and desperation. He had kicked open the floodgates and now the tears and wailing poured out. Adam was quite startled by the sudden show of emotion, still squatting, and afraid to touch the poor child, but wanting to comfort her. He held out his arms to her, hoping to lift her to some official table where they would be able to locate the mommy. Suddenly, the mommy was over him, hovering, like a raptor. She swooped in and swept the screaming child into her arms. Mommy quickly transported the tiny being out of reach, glaring at him with eyes full of fury and reproach.

A small crowd had gathered around the spectacle and Adam finally rose to a standing position, the onlookers still gazing at him with suspicion. He brought up both his hands, palms to the sky, and said, “What?”

He escaped the mob before they could gather torches and pitchforks and continued his move to the center of the plaza looking for a refuge. “What’s that, a chair?”