Yesterday, I wrote a wrap-up for my book, "Mathew Franklin Whittier in his own words." After revising it and adding to it continually for almost eight years, barring some new influx of evidence, I think I'm completely satisfied with it. It remains a treasure to be discovered when the time is right. Somehow, I think it remains veiled until then. Despite the fact that it is inherently fascinating, and that it actually does prove reincarnation to be a fact, people seem to react to it as though it was a tome of unbearable boredom. It strikes me as some kind of illusion, like a cloaked space ship. I don't understand the mechanism, but I can guess at the purpose. Society simply isn't ready for it.
So this morning, I turned my attention back to another project--the fictional (or semi-fictional) portrayal of Mathew's historical relationship with his soul-mate, Abby Poyen. It is only now, after so many years of research, that I fully understand their history. Very little is written about it in the historical record. I had to glean the facts from literally hundreds of Mathew's published works, in which he makes oblique references to it. This required learning how to "decode" the autobiographical elements in his humorous sketches. He drew from this relationship, by way of keeping it secretly alive, I would say (or, as a tribute), over and over in these works. Using my past-life intuition as a guide, as well as applying detective logic, I was finally able to reconstruct what I feel is a fairly accurate picutre of their life together. This occurred over a span of roughly 10 years, from 1830, when she apparently began tutoring him over the winters, until her death in March of 1841.
Now, many times, when I would complain of the poor reception to my book, friends would suggest I write a novel, instead. But there are a great many such novels. Enter keyword "reincarnation" into the search function on Amazon, and you will find them--literally hundreds of them. Not all are fictionalized, but the vast majority of them are. I had in mind to prove reincarnation with my own self-study, not to add to the burgeoning (and, probably, largely ignored) genre of reincarnation love stories.
But once my non-fiction study is complete, I want to tell this couple's story without the hindrances of citations and analysis. I want to bring everything I learned to bear on it, but I want to tell the story afresh, as it may have really happened.
This, of course, is a different level of writing. I have obviously retained Mathew's ability to write nonfiction prose; and at times, I can attain flashes of his genius as a humorist. But can I still write fiction? I attempted it as a young man just out of high school, being particularly enamoured, at the time, with science fiction. I received a few rejections, and quit. (Perhaps, subconsciously, I was so accustomed to my work being accepted for publication, that I was unwilling to put up with the stacks of rejection slips that even successful writers usually have to amass for the first few years.) I had not really tried my hand at it, since.
I was interested to see Mathew candidly admit that his weakness, as a writer, was in creating personal descriptions. I, too, struggle with this aspect of it. Everything else comes naturally to me, as it did, to him. How amazing what traits and abilities come across, from one lifetime to another! But other than that, I think it is progressing very well, indeed. I essentially completed the story a year or two ago; but I have learned so much about their history since then, that I am now going back through it and adding the new information. Then, I'm going to make a separate pass to add more descriptive language, where appropriate. You know, "her hair was like...," that sort of thing. Not literally, of course. But the visual images, the allusions, and so-on. The sensory descriptions. Mathew said he felt he should be tutored in this regard by one of his contemporaries, who was better at it. But when he really tried, he could do it; and I expect that I will be able to successfully "juice it up" a bit, as well.
You know, the red, succulent variety that flows in sparkling, rippling waves, splashing with joyous abandon into the clear glass, which she holds aloft for him with her exquisitely-formed hand.
A bit of that goes a long way, but some of it is necessary, I suppose.
As I write this story, I feel it. I have said I have full emotional memory of my life as Mathew Franklin Whittier, and this is nowhere more true than when it concerns his relationship with Abby. And she, in spirit, is no-doubt helping me write it, as she has helped me remember parts of it. I know this is difficult for most people to accept. And it is not their fault--it is the ignorance of a materialistic society. Do you know that Benjamin Franklin believed in reincarnation? That's not speculation, I have proven it. The proof is here. Be sure to read the entire page (it's short). This is just the tip of the iceberg. We have been so much snowed by these textbooks we studied in high school. You have no idea. If all those distortions were removed, both from the textbooks and from people's minds, what I say I am doing would at least make sense to them. In short, it doesn't make sense precisely because people have been brainwashed by Society.
But this time, I am not going to make the mistake of publishing before it's really and truly finished. In fact, I'm not sure I will ever publish this in my lifetime. It is too personal, too intimate. I don't mind publishing a non-fiction book which people marginalize by rudely ignoring it; nor do I so much mind writing these Updates, to a relatively small audience which apparently takes them as a mere curiosity. But I will not parade my cherished past-life relationship with Abby before these people. It will be published after a sufficient number take the non-fiction work seriously. That way, they will read the fictionalized account with respect. No respect, no publication. It is not too much to ask--at least, it wouldn't be, if that vast layer of ignorance was cleaned away.
Stephen Sakellarios, M.S.
Music opening this page: "One Last Kiss," by Billy Goodrum,
from the album, "Weightless"