Charles PendeltonMember since Friday, 25 December 2009
Country: United States
This coming-of-age story centers around a day in the life of a teenage dreamer,
struggling to find himself. Our story begins upon waking, and from the very first page,
you will find the young Charles Pendelton has a rather strange obsession with time.
Back and forth from childhood memories, will eventually lead the reader on a
surrealistic journey into the heart of a psychoactive world filled with madness,
and its own special charm. As Charles continues to descend in a perpetual haze
of illicit narcotics and various hallucinogenic substances, it becomes quite
apparent to the reader that this is no ordinary tale of woe.
Prepare yourself to be guided through a labyrinth of joy and sorrow as seen through
the writer's eyes. A magical place where one’s perception of reality is transformed
into the devil's playground. “In truth, I am just someone who looked into the inkwell,
and slipped. I wanted to write a story about Harmony, and wrote a few extra pages.”
“I did not need to pack bags, yet I was on vacation;
no one was performing, yet I was being entertained!
Everything was a mystery to behold; a box waiting
to be opened! The carnival was lively and livid in
the circus of wonderland and nothing was to be
taken without notice... Hurry, hurry, step right up!
Get your acid-trip for only three dollars!!!”
Indeed, the book is a manifesto of entertainment.
The biographical account of a handwritten ledger that would be luxuriously
compiled into a narrative and further elaborated upon for your viewing pleasure.
As the tale is being woven, you will come to learn that everything is relevant to
itself in the end. Try not to get lost though, as the writer relives other moments
which come to life in other chapters. It is delivered in a form of prose not
commonly used by authors of this century.
“In truth, I drank from that cup and I never looked back; therefore,
I never knew what had begun to take shape in the dark region known as
despair. An ill wind began brewing, and heaven help the soul left stranded
by the river's edge. It is so cold and lonely there, my eyes begin to water
at the mere thought of it. There in that wretched place of all forlornness,
the mighty angels who circle above, will not circle above it.”
- Chapter 32 (1972) pt 4.
There is only one chapter considered to be the heart of the embryo man novel,
and the rest of the book, you could say is simply written around it; “chapter 32.”
A testament of true love that rises like a rush of emotions, before crashing
down on its exquisite shoreline, pulling everything back with it into the sea.
It was never the writers intention to inflict such grief upon mankind; however,
the book was written for the author first and the reader second. One may conclude,
it is an act of selfishness on the writers part, to produce a novel in this fashion,
when in reality, the writer is only being honest with himself.
As for the author, there will be no other manuscript written in his name,
for there is nothing more he can reveal. As for the 13th Chapter, it is now
considered to be a lost work, and no further attempts to uncover it shall
be made. “It has been lost to the ether of time.”
So turn the page and let the story begin. . .
It was June the 11th, 1982, and the day is just beginning.
(These chapters have not been revised)
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Aside from being a drug novel, this book is interwoven around an affair of the heart. An intriguing romance. Read why people are calling The Embryo Man, one of the most tragic love stories of all time