Is it not simply a matter of time until the destiny that has been foretold for us comes about?
Here's how the old man puts it in Flight of the Shaman;-
"I cannot understand how this is to come about but come about it must. It seems boy that we move within the confines of our own consciousness, would that I could expand my gaze to become aware of all the activities of my own being."
My inspiration for 'Flight of the Shaman';-
Carnatic Hall was the overgrown estate of a mansion near to where I lived in Liverpool. It was where I played as a child. Carnatic Hall came into being following this event;-
In 1778 a schooner, named 'The Mentor,' sailed out of Liverpool as a privateer. It captured a galleon named 'Carnatic.' The spoils were used to build 'Carnatic Hall.' [check it out on wikipedia].
I wrote two books based upon the above real-life event. They were both entitled 'White Lady of Carnatic' - the dates of those books being 1991, and 1994.
In 1998, seven years on from the first edition, the third, and final development of 'White Lady of Carnatic' was written, it was renamed, "Flight of the Shaman."
Flight of the Shaman is a tale of two continents; the New World of the Incas, and the role of the Europeans in subjugating that society for gold. The time frame is also juxtaposed - from that of the Elizabethan age - to that of the first half of the last century. The heroes of the work are a young boy and his grandad, it is they who seek to help a young Inca princess escape the evil Shaman.
Flight of the Shaman
"IT IS I WHO SEEKS YOU! IT IS I WHO SHALL FIND YOU," roared the Shaman. The shout had a horrible hissing quality to it. As they looked closer they could see why. Only his head and forearms had yet to be absorbed into the body of the snake, his split tongue flickered in and out.
His head poised itself before the hole in the wall of the cell, the tongue scented the air wafting along the shafts. A look of comprehension passed through the remains of his face before it became totally reptilian and without expression.
The snake entered the tunnelways, its huge mass filled every space as its muscles propelled it forwards. The scaly scratch its skin made as its scales gripped the sides of the tunnel echoed horribly.
If there is anything that I have stated on this site that is not correct; if Muriel Gray, Harper Collins, Browne Jacobson, or any person(s) mentioned in these pages, contacts me and provides the evidence or counter argument to show that I am not correct, or...
if there is anything that I have stated that anybody believes misrepresents them in any way, if they provide me with their arguments...
then, if necessary, I will consider removing the material, and/or publish a correction, and/or apologise.
If I do not hear anything (nobody has complained to me since I set up this site in March 2010) then I can only assume the accuracy of everything on this site, and that nobody has been misrepresented in any way.