Inside the Mind of Martin Mueller

By EA Luetkemeyer

A DAZZLING DEBUT NOVEL, Inside The Mind of Martin Mueller tells the story of a man of wealth and taste whose mission in life is no less than to "reassemble the scattered shards of the shattered Over-soul of mankind." He believes the penitentiary he's an inmate of is in the basement of his country estate. Daily he discards the fine clothes of a retired billionaire and dons the blue denim of a prisoner and takes an elevator down to his cell where he toils obsessively at his masterpiece, a manuscript which when completed will alter the course of the evolution of humanity and earn him a high place among his brethren-to-be, the Illuminati. Is he delusional? Which is real—the mansion or the cell block or both? Inside The Mind of Martin Muller is a Rorschach inkblot test of a twisted tale: what you see is what you get.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Oct 31, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543950410

Book preview

©2018 EA Luetkemeyer. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses

permitted by copyright law.

ISBN: 978-1-54395-040-3 (print)

ISBN: 978-1-54395-041-0 (ebook)

PRAISE FOR

INSIDE THE MIND OF MARTIN MUELLER

"Imagine discovering that you are so much more than you ever thought yourself to be. That you had a history deeper than your memory and a destiny entwined with the fate of all humankind and, more, the universe and creation itself? Such is the discovery being made by one Martin Mueller, and through him, ourselves, as we take a brief, reality-shaking peek inside his mind…Inside the Mind of Martin Mueller is about nothing less than one man’s quest to answer humanity’s deepest questions: Who (or what) are we? Why do we exist? What is the universe and what is one person’s role in it?...[It is] a launching pad to blast the reader off into their own meta-stratosphere where we must question our own certainty about reality and identity…A short wild ride of a novella…it is impossible not to liken this tale to a modern-day Siddhartha."

—Sage Kalmus, Free Will Flux

Luetkemeyer’s dreamlike tale follows a prison inmate as he thoroughly examines the nature of existence…[He] packs an impressive amount of content in a concise narrative…An eccentric but extraordinary story…a sense of surreality reigns

—Kirkus Reviews

"EA Luetkemeyer has accomplished in a single novel what most authors would need volumes to articulate. Inside the Mind of Martin Mueller is a trip worth the psychological toll to pass through the misadventures of the mind. A page-to-page twisting and turning, delightful yet dark. Who is narrating the book? Whose mind is in control? Who is Martin Mueller? Why does he believe he is getting out of prison…who has convinced him he even exists? There is a smoothness to the literary insanity that allows the reader to let go and be lead through prison walls into the nightmare of Atlantis and through the centuries in a sort of space odyssey for jail birds and wailing witches."

—Zach Hudson, How Dare You Zine

"A first-rate literary novel….EA Luetkemeyer’s writing is daring….the prose is exquisitely good…he uses a unique, inventive style…that seems to reflect the inner mind of the protagonist. Readers will love Mueller and will, undoubtedly, hear echoes of themselves in him, those thoughts that assail the mind in the hushed hours of the day… There is a lot to relish in this novel—a great plot structure, a strong psychological conflict, sophisticated characters, and stellar writing. Inside the Mind of Martin Mueller entertains enormously."

—Ruffina Oserio, Readers Favorites

"I was fascinated…Inside the Mind of Martin Mueller is a very detailed, intricate and erudite piece of writing that does indeed…leave us with more questions than answers…not recommended for those with a limited vocabulary, or those unfamiliar with history, mythology and headier thinking. Nor is it recommended for those offended by explicit language. But it is recommended for those who love a challenge when they read and who enjoy a puzzle… a literary Rubik’s cube for enquiring minds.

—Viga Boland, No Tears for my Father

"Inside the Mind of Martin Mueller by E.A. Luetkemeyer is a novel about how individuals find a reason to go on even though the only hope they have is of a world they may never see again; and, like all of E.A.’s stories, it comes from his personal experiences being ‘inside’ and the insights he gleaned there coming to grips with his own personal demons. [It poses the question] ‘How does one cope with being in prison and following the same routine, within the same walls, seeing the same people, day, after day, after day, after day? What lies do you tell others and what truths will you hide from yourself?’ It is a darkly, well written tale and at the end you are left still wondering where the Truth really lies."

—Arthur W. Scholbe, YouTube: Uncle Strangely Presents

"EA Luetkemeyer’s Inside the Mind of Martin Mueller wasn’t easy to grasp…The ending reveals the ‘truth’ that still lingers in my mind…an extremely interesting read."

—Lit Amri, Readers Favorites

"Luetkemeyer is a definite scholar of human history and the English language, using both to great effect…I quickly became enthralled by this tale with its study of the complexities of humanity and the reality we share, not least because I spent much of my time trying to figure out what was really happening!...Inside the Mind of Martin Mueller is a mind-bending novella...A brilliantly conceived journey into the darkest corners of the human mind...a luminous, far-fetched, existential mind-trip with a freaky twist ending…it has enough uncertainty to leave you wondering: Did I get the ending after all? Did I really?"

—Online Book Club

Also by E A Luetkemeyer

The Book Of Chuck: A Memorial Compilation

Of Poetry & Prose

Acknowledgments

This is for the men and women around the world for whom a prison cell is home. Gratitude also to my wife, Leslie, with whom I have walked down a few bad roads and arrived at a few good stories, and to my children and their children for being in my life. Eternal regard for my esteemed MFA instructors, Laurie Foos, Tony Eprile and Rachel Kadish, and for my first mentor, Douglas Hobbie, who exclaimed, It was a big whale! A shout out to Luke for the photo on the front and to Zach for the photo on the back.

Imperfections in the appearance of this product

are proof of its authenticity.

A DAY AND A WAKE-UP

FINDING WALDO

BRUNCH ON THE TERRACE WITH MILLIE

ASLEEP NO MORE FOREVER

A DAY AND A WAKE-UP

It was his home now. But it could not be his home till he had gone from it and returned to it. Now he was the Prodigal Son.

G.K Chesterton

I have to see a thing a thousand times before I see it once.

Thomas Wolfe, You Can’t Go Home Again

HE MANEUVERS THE CANARY yellow Lamborghini Espada through the tight curves of a two-lane county road, downshifts from fifth to third in a single swift motion, and turns onto the quarter-mile tree-lined drive that crosses the manicured acreage of his country estate. The tachometer needle leaps from three to six thousand RPM. He feels the gears mesh smoothly, hears the powerful, finely tuned engine whine responsively. Martin likes that sound, that tawny wild cat’s cry. It makes him feel young again. His wife Millie admonishes that the sporty automobile is evidence of a creeping mid-life crisis, but he prefers to think it is evidence of his reverence for eternal youth.

He approaches his sprawling twenty-six room manor house of river rock and cedar beams and floor-to-ceiling windows with a warm and happy feeling. He’s been away a while. It is always a joy to return to where he does his best work. And today—today!—he feels certain he will finish at last!

He enters the attached garage, wheels his Lamborghini across the buffed and shiny black and white tiled floor and parks alongside Millie’s 1962 Rolls-Royce Phantom V Coach. It is more her style: sedate and respectable. He would see her soon, for brunch on the terrace—he was famished!—but first a good session in his cell.

He walks to a door in the far wall of the garage. He is dressed in tasseled tan loafers, pale green hosiery, khaki pants, a pale green polo shirt to match his socks and a straw hat—a boater with a brightly colored band. He is feeling gay, effusive, expectant. He opens the door upon a closet of mops and brooms and pails and paper towels and cans of cleanser and plastic containers of floor wax. From a hook in the right side wall of the closet hang a blue cotton work shirt, blue cotton pants and a tattered blue terry cloth robe. On the floor is a pair of fuzzy slippers. He strips down to his polka dot boxer shorts. Above his slight paunch, in the center of his narrow chest, is a patch of curly white hair. On his left bicep in faded blue ink are the words Martin And Millie Forever encircling an old oak tree. He dons the work shirt and pants and the robe and the fuzzy slippers and hangs his more fashionable clothes from the hook. He closes the door, pulls an expanding protective gate across it, presses a red concave button in the wall beside the door and the door slides upward as the small compartment lurches downward.

FROM THE CORRIDOR OUTSIDE the cell of Crazy Carl come the pounding lyrics of a popular tune: Beat it, beat it, beat it! He sits at a gray metal desk hunched over a humming electric typewriter, fingers poised on the keyboard, staring at the page in progress. His hair is disheveled, his face unshaven, his soiled blue work shirt hangs limply on his slight frame and all around him his cramped quarters are in disarray: the stainless steel sink protruding from the concrete wall beside him is cluttered with greasy plastic dishes; the low lidless toilet bowl is unflushed; the concrete floor is strewn with castoff clothing: balled-up dungarees; filthy long john tops and work shirts; dirty socks; scuffed leather work boots and rubber shower shoes. The sagging bunk behind him is heaped with refuse: crumpled sheets of paper; clipped newspaper articles; the box of a jig-saw puzzle entitled, Where’s Waldo, its pieces scattered about; several issues of the tabloid, the National Inquirer, and the magazines, Omni, Newsweek, Business Week, House And Garden, Food And Wine and Sunset. Piled precariously on the desk to the left of and behind the typewriter are the books, The Occult, A History; The Secret Doctrine; In Search of the Miraculous; The Book of Urantia; The Further Prophecies of Nostradamus; History of the Western World; Fairies at Work and Play; Outer Threshold of the Inner Sanctum; Thus Spake Zarathustra; Tales of the Wayward Gypsy; Thought Forms and a copy of Gideon’s Bible. To the right of the typewriter is a pile of typed-upon pages, and behind that, from a plastic portable cassette player, Mick Jagger declares that he’s stolen many a man’s soul and faith. Pleased