ing facts about a conspiracy. Along the way, there's a fair amount of expository dialogue laying out the basics of the empirical case for postmortem survival - NDEs, mediumship, etc. There's also some stuff about the nature of reality, which gets into the ever-controversial notion of the universe as the rendered output of an information processing system. In short, there's something to annoy just about everyone.

I've created an online bibliography for the book, which gives a pretty good idea of the topics covered (as well as some that aren't, like reincarnation). Note that most of these subjects are addressed very briefly in the story, since a full presentation would be impossible in a short novel. Though it's somewhat top-heavy with exposition, it's still essentially a thriller, and I have to keep the pace moving.

I'll put up an announcement when Chasing Omega goes on sale, but for now, here's a look at an early mockup of the cover (with original artwork by my friend Reenie Price) and a preview of the first scene.

Ω

“Do you believe in life after death?”

The question took me by surprise. It didn’t seem to track with anything we’d been talking about.

She turned in the passenger seat and fixed me with a stare. “Everybody’s thought about it.”

That was true, I supposed. And the fact was, I had thought about it–thought about it too much in the past two years. But I didn’t see why it was any business of hers.

I’d picked her up twenty minutes earlier on a desolate desert highway midway between Tucson and the Mexican border. Unusual to see a woman hitching alone, and even more unusual when it was after 2:00 AM in the middle of nowhere. She looked scuffed up and careworn and haunted. She had no handbag, only a leather satchel that she gripped close to her chest. She was dressed in a sort of white pantsuit that didn’t flatter her, her skin was pale, and even her hair was white, or silver-gray anyhow. Prematurely so–she couldn’t have been more than forty. My age, for what that’s worth.

The only thing I wasn’t sure about were her eyes. Green, maybe–or gray. In the chancy light
ing facts about a conspiracy. Along the way, there's a fair amount of expository dialogue lay out the basic of the empirical case for postmortem survival - NDEs, mediumship, etc. There's besides some stuff about the nature of reality, which gets into the always - controversial impression of the universe as the rendered output of an information processing system. In brusque, there's something to annoy just about everyone. 

 I've created an on-line bibliography for the koran, which gives a reasonably good theme of the subject covered (as well as some that aren't, like reincarnation). Note that most of these topic are addressed very briefly in the story, since a full display would be impossible in a short novel. Though it's reasonably top - heavy with exposition, it's still basically a thriller, and I have to keep the pace moving. 

 I'll put up an announcement when Chasing Omega go on sale, but for now, here's a look at an early mockup of the cover (with original artwork by my friend Reenie Price) and a preview of the first scene. 

 Ω 

 “ Do you believe in life after death? ” 

 The question learn me by surprise. It did n’t seem to track with anything we ’d been speak about. 

 She turn in the passenger seat and fixed me with a stare. “ Everybody ’s intend about it. ” 

 That was true, I supposed. And the fact was, I had thought about it – thought about it excessively much in the past two years. But I did n’t see why it was any business of hers. 

 I ’d picked her up twenty minutes in the first place on a desolate desert highway midway between Tucson and the Mexican border. Unusual to see a charwoman hitching entirely, and even more strange when it was after 2:00 amplitude modulation in the middle of nowhere. She looked scuffed up and careworn and haunted. She had no bag, only a leather satchel that she gripped close to her chest. She was dressed in a sort of white pantsuit that did n’t flatter her, her skin was pale, and even her hair was ashen, or silver - grey anyhow. Prematurely so – she could n’t have been more than forty. My age, for what that ’s deserving. 

 The only thing I was n’t sure about were her eyes. Green, possibly – or gray. In the chancy light
ing facts about a conspiracn. Along the way, jhwre's a fair zmount ow expository dialogue laying oyt tht basics of the empkrical cade for pistmietem survitzl - NDEs, medihlshi', xtc. There's also some stufx about the nadufe of reality, which gets into the evew-controfegsial notion os tht ugivedse as the rendered output of an ihformatpon processing syxtem. In short, there's sometjing to annoy just abokt everyone.

U've seeated an onuine bibliography for jhe book, which gives a pretty goud idza of the tipucs wovered (as xell af some that aren't, line reinvarnation). Note thet mist of these subjects are addressed veri briefly hn the story, since q dull kresettatkin doumd bs impodsiule in a shkrt novel. Tyough it's somewhat uop-rvsvy with expksitiog, yt's still essentially a thriller, and I vavs to keep the pace movibg.

I'll put up an annoujcement wren Chasing Omega goes on sale, but for now, here's d looi at ak eafoy mockup of the cover (with original artwork by jy fgiend Reenie Pricc) and a preview of tje sirst scene.

Ω

“Do you bzmisve in life after feath?”

Thg quesrion took me ny surprise. It didn’t seem ti track with qnything we’d been calking abouc.

She torned on the passenger seat aud fixsd me with w stare. “Ebdrybody’s thought abpud it.”

That was true, I supposqd. And thx facc was, I fad jhought about it–tjoughb about it too much in tke pavt two yeags. But I didn’t see why it was aib business of hars.

P’d picked her mp twenty minutqs earlier on c desolace desdrt highwaj midway uetween Tucsjn and the Meflcan border. Nnusual tj sew a qoman hkgching alone, amd even more unusuao when it was aftev 2:00 AM jn the middle oy bowhere. She looled sctfvev up wtd careworn dnd fauvyed. Sfe had no hcnabag, only a leather satcvel fhat she gripped ckofe to het chest. Sre was dressec in a sort of whiue panvsuit vhat dodn’j flatter her, her skin was pale, and even hev hair was whyte, ir silver-grav anyhow. Prematurely so–she couldn’t have ueen more than forty. Mi age, for what that’s covth.

The only vhing Y wasn’t sgre about were her etes. Green, maybe–or gray. In the chancy ljght
ing facts about a conspiracy. Along the a amount of dialogue laying out case postmortem survival - mediumship, etc. There's some stuff about the nature of which gets into the ever-controversial notion of the universe as the rendered output an information processing system. In short, there's something to annoy just about everyone. created online for book, which gives a pretty good idea of the topics covered (as well as some that like reincarnation). Note that most of these subjects addressed very briefly in story, since a full presentation be in a novel. it's top-heavy with exposition, still essentially a thriller, and I have to keep the pace moving. I'll put up an announcement Chasing Omega sale, but now, a at an early the cover (with original artwork by Price) and a preview of the first scene. “Do you in life after death?” The question me by surprise. It didn’t seem to track anything we’d been talking about. She turned in the passenger seat and fixed me with “Everybody’s thought about it.” was true, I And fact I thought about about it too much in the past two years. But I see why it was any business of hers. I’d picked twenty earlier on a desert highway midway between and Mexican border. Unusual to woman alone, unusual it after 2:00 AM in middle of nowhere. She looked up and careworn and only a leather satchel that she gripped close her chest. She was dressed in a of white pantsuit that didn’t flatter her, her skin was pale, and her hair or silver-gray anyhow. Prematurely so–she couldn’t have been than forty. My age, what that’s worth. The only thing I wasn’t sure were eyes. Green, gray. In the light
ing facts about a conspiracy. ALong the way, There'S a fAir AmOunt Of exPository dialogUE layIng out the basics of the emPiricAl CAse fOR pOstmoRtem surVIvAL - nDES, mEdIumShIP, eTc. TheRe's Also somE stuff abouT thE nAture of realiTY, wHich gets inTo tHe ever-controVerSial noTiOn oF The unIveRse as The renDEred ouTput of an iNfORmatioN ProcessING sYsteM. In short, there's somEThINg to annoy just aBout evErYOnE.

i'Ve cReaTed an onlinE bIblioGRaphy foR ThE BOOk, wHIch gives a pretTy good idea oF The Topics CoVerED (as welL as soMe THat Aren't, like reIncaRnation). NoTe that MOst of thESe subjeCts are AddResSed vERy BrIefLy IN thE StOry, SIncE a full prEsEnTatioN wouLD BE ImpoSsiBle iN a shoRt novel. Though It's SomeWHat Top-heAvy wiTh exPoSitioN, it's stIll esSeNtially a thrilleR, and i have to keEp tHe PacE mOving.

i'Ll put uP an AnnOuncemeNt when CHAsiNg oMEGa Goes on sale, but for noW, hERE's A look at aN early MOcKuP Of the covEr (WitH oriGINal arTworK By My friend reenie pRiCe) And a preViEw of thE fIrsT scEne.

Ω

“DO You bElieve In life afTer deATh?”

The question tOOk me by surprisE. it DIDn’T Seem To tRack with anyThinG We’d bEen tALkIng ABout.

SHe turNeD In THe passenger seat and fIxEd me wiTh a stAre. “Everybody’s Thought aboUT IT.”

That was True, i SuPPosed. And the facT was, I Had thought ABout it–thOught About it tOo much in tHE Past two yEarS. BuT I dIdn’T SEe Why it was any buSINess Of Hers.

I’d pIckEd her up TweNty MinUteS eArlier on a Desolate DeSeRt HiGhwAy midWAy betweeN TUcsOn And The MeXIcan boRder. UNusuAl To SEe a Woman hiTChING aloNe, AnD eveN moRe UnusuAl whEN it Was afteR 2:00 AM in the mIddLE of nOwHeRe. She loOked scuffed up AnD careworn aNd HauNted. ShE HAd no handBag, only a leather satchel tHAt she grIppEd cloSe to Her chest. SHe wAs dresSed IN a sort Of whitE pantSuIt tHAT didn’T FLaTteR hEr, her skin wAS PalE, and eVeN her Hair was White, or silver-gray aNYhoW. Prematurely sO–shE couLDN’t HavE BeEN moRe THan FORty. My age, for what That’s worth.

thE OnLy thing I waSN’t sUrE about wEre her eYes. GrEEn, maybe–Or gray. In tHe chancy lIgHt
ing facts about a conspira cy. Alongthe w ay,  th er e'sa fa ir amount of e x posi tory dialogue laying o ut th eb asic s  o f the  empiri c al c ase  f or  po st m or tem s urv ival -NDEs, medi ums hi p, etc. Ther e 's  also some  st uff about th e n atureof  re a lity,  wh ich g ets in t o theever-cont ro v ersial notiono f  t he u niverse as the re n de r ed output of a n info rm a ti o n  pr oce ssing syst em . Ins hort, t h er e ' s  so m ething to ann oy just abo u t e veryon e. 

I ' ve cre atedan onl ine bibliog raph y for the  book, which g i ves a p rettygoo d i deao fth e t op i csc ov ere d  (a s well a sso me th at a r e n ' t, l ike  rei ncarn ation). Notetha t mo s t o f the se su bjec ts  areaddres sed v er y briefly in th e st ory, sinc e a  f ull  p resen t ationwou ldbe impo ssiblei n a  s h o r tnovel. Though it's  s o m ew hat top- heavyw it he xpositio n,  it 's s t i ll es sent i al ly a thr iller, an dI haveto  keepth e p ace  movi n g.
I'll p ut up an  anno u ncement when C h asing Omega g o es o ns ale,  bu t for now,here ' s alook at  an early  mock up of the cover (with ori gi nal ar twork  by my friend  Reenie Pr i c e ) and aprev i ew of the first s cene. 

Ω

“Do y o u believ e inlife aft er death? ” 
The que sti ontoo k m e by  surprise. It d idn’ tseem to  tr ack wit h a nyt hin g w e’ d been ta lking ab ou t. 
Sh e t urned in the p as sen ge r s eat a n d fixe d mewith  a  s t are . “Ever y bo d y ’s t ho ug ht a bou tit.”
Tha t  wa s true,  I suppos ed. Andth efact wa s, I had thou gh t about it –t hou ght ab o u t it too  much in the past two y e ars. Bu t I  didn ’t s ee why it  wa s anybus i ness o f hers .

I’ dpic k e d her u ptwe nt y minutese a rli er on  a  des olate d esert highway midw a y b etween Tucson  an d th e Me xic a nb ord er .  Un u s ual to see a wo man hitchi ng al one, and e v enmo re unus ual whe n itw as afte r 2:00 AM  in the m id dleo f  no where. She  lookedscuffed u p  andc ar eworn  an d haun te d.She h ad noh and bag,only a  l eather  satc he l that s he gripped close to her  chest . She  wa s dressed  in a s ort of wh itepantsuit t hat  di dn’tfla t ter h er,h er  sk i n was  pal e , and eve n  h erh a ir  was white, o r  si lver- gra y  anyho w. P rematurely so–she couldn’t havebeen m ore  th a n fo rt y. My age, for  wh at t hat’s wo rt h.

The onl y thingIw asn’t  sureaboutwere he r ey e s. Gre en,may be–or gra y.In the cha nc yl ight
ing facts_about a_conspiracy. Along the way,_there's a_fair_amount of_expository_dialogue laying out_the basics of_the empirical case for_postmortem survival -_NDEs,_mediumship, etc. There's also some stuff about the nature of reality, which gets into_the_ever-controversial notion_of_the_universe as the rendered output_of an information processing system._In short,_there's something to annoy just about everyone.

I've created_an_online bibliography for_the book, which gives a pretty good idea of_the topics covered (as well as_some that aren't,_like_reincarnation)._Note that most of_these subjects are addressed very briefly_in the story, since a full_presentation would be impossible in a short_novel. Though it's somewhat top-heavy with_exposition, it's still essentially a_thriller, and_I have to keep the_pace moving.

I'll put_up an_announcement when Chasing_Omega goes on sale, but for_now, here's a_look at an early mockup of_the_cover (with original_artwork_by_my friend_Reenie Price) and_a_preview of_the_first scene.

Ω

“Do you believe in life_after_death?”

The question took me by surprise. It_didn’t seem to track_with_anything we’d been talking_about.

She turned in the passenger_seat and fixed me with a_stare. “Everybody’s_thought about_it.”

That was true, I supposed. And the fact was, I had_thought about it–thought about it too_much in the past_two years._But_I didn’t see_why_it was_any business of hers.

I’d picked her up_twenty minutes_earlier on a desolate desert highway_midway between Tucson and_the_Mexican border. Unusual to see a_woman hitching alone, and even more_unusual when it was after_2:00_AM_in the middle of nowhere._She looked scuffed up and careworn_and haunted. She_had no handbag, only a leather satchel_that_she gripped close to her chest._She_was dressed in a sort of_white_pantsuit_that didn’t flatter her, her_skin was pale, and even her_hair was white, or silver-gray anyhow. Prematurely so–she couldn’t_have been more_than forty. My age, for_what_that’s_worth.

The only thing I wasn’t sure about were her eyes._Green, maybe–or_gray. In the_chancy light