Lucid Fiction is a short story collection based on the compelling themes of lucidity and alternate realities. Readers of this website can get a taste of the book for free - with a sample story below.
The story is called Infallible by Pete Casale, and uses Neuro Linguistic Programming (NLP) techniques to emulate the reality of the lucid dream state. Pete is a lucid dreamer himself and contributed two stories to the Lucid Fiction collection, as well as designing the artwork.
There were seven authors involved in the creation of Lucid Fiction and I'm confident you will enjoy it.
Remember this is a lucid dreaming tool as well as an entertaining read, so dip into Lucid Fiction before you go to sleep each night this week to fully exploit the powerful subconscious incubation technique...
I have no memory.
Well I know in a very vague, base way who I am but it somehow seems unimportant. I'm perfectly warm right now, and I feel very comfortable. I am staring down at my hands - I'm kneeling, so comfortably, on the soft white carpet in some kind of sky rise apartment. It must be mine - it feels like mine.
I stand up and take slow, deep breath. I feel warm electricity flowing up my spine and radiating down my arms, rebounding from my hands and shooting back down my spine into my legs. It's curiously reassuring. Although I can't remember how I got here, I have the feeling that something significant has just happened, but the details don't matter. I want to figure out why I have no memory, but then that too becomes unimportant. Confusion subsides and I am left standing in my apartment with a noticeable warm feeling circulating my body.
"I feel like the world is my oyster... I feel... great..." - I catch myself speaking aloud, but stop abruptly as the warm electric feeling suddenly multiplies to a new height. I have new spirit. I head to the door, about to reach for my jacket then retract my hand in second thought.
"I don't need my jacket... I'm already warm enough." And as I say it, the warmth redoubles and I know I'm right. The electric feeling surges again from my armpits down to my hips.
Incredibly warm. Incredibly comfortable.
I take the elevator down to the lobby and walk across the marble floor. The doorman is a large man, with a slightly unclean look. He's sitting at a large marble desk with a giant pot plant balancing on the far end. His pudgy face glances up at me, then back down to his newspaper. As I get to the door he calls out to me. I feel a hostile vibe coming from him, but it does nothing to harm my peaceful, warm feeling.
"Hey, you. You were the one who had the party last night." I stop and turn around to face him. He sits and waits for my answer, pudgy yet with the faint smug look of a man who just won a pie-eating competition. He clearly wants to
start an argument. Maybe he is bored, or mentally unstable, or both. "You best keep the noise down, you wouldn't want to be evicted."
"I don't know. I can't remember." I reply.
"You were lucky I wasn't on duty or I would have come knock your door in." He says, in an obviously well-practiced combination of macho and arrogance. I shrug.
"Actually, you'll find I can do anything I want." I state plainly.
The doorman hides a grin as he leans forward in a manner that he incorrectly believes will menace me.
"And what the hell makes you think that?" He leers, begging for me to challenge him further. I shrug again. I'm not intimidated in the slightest - if anything I feel even more warm and comfortable than I did before. I double check myself - I feel perfectly safe. It is clear to me that nothing can hurt me, nothing can frighten me - it is only the doorman who doesn't know that.
"I know it to be so. The same way I know that you're about to fall over in a comically elaborate fashion." My voice is calm, which seems to only anger the doorman further. The doorman stands up suddenly, slamming his palm onto
his desk and lurching forward in a threatening manner.
"And what, the HELL, makes you think that will happen?!" The doorman shouts at me. A young girl enters the lobby mid sentence, and stops immediately. It is obvious that the doorman is enraged. She is confused at my contrasting
calm demeanor. I look back at the doorman again.
"Because," I state in a matter-of-fact way, "everything I say is infallible."
I turn and walk to the exit doors. The doorman isn't the type to let anyone talk to him in a manner that isn't submissive. He isn't the type to let things go. The doorman does not quite understand what just happened, but he also isn't the type to let confusion stop him taking action. The doorman's bulky frame bursts out from behind his desk to go after me. A little too fast, perhaps, as he stubs his toe painfully on the corner of his desk and knocks his large pot plant over the edge. He dives to catch it, but his toe is still behind the desk, causing both his legs to upend over the corner of his desk. To his credit, he does manage to catch the pot plant before it shatters on the marble floor, but his estimation of its weight is slightly sub par, because it drags him head first to the ground, where his head becomes implanted in the large pot. The man's stumpy legs flail and thrash among the wretched plant, as the whole mess of soil, legs, plant and pot tips over and crashes awkwardly to the ground.
The girl bursts out laughing as I step out into the sunshine. The orange brick courtyard stretches across to meet the opposite buildings and shops. Various stalls are set up about the courtyard, with the sidelining cafes encroaching out
into the sunshine. The warmth of the sun is incredible. It smells very fresh out here - it's a beautiful day. Everything still feels warm and comfortable, I feel like walking and exploring.
There is a vendor selling gelato - soft Italian ice-cream - from a small stall set up nearby. I walk up to him and eye the various flavors. All of them look absolutely delicious. The vendor, an older man, looks happy as he waits patiently for me to decide. I look at him and I know that he gets pleasure from seeing people decide which of his flavors to try.
"They're all home-made." He says, as if to explain his enjoyment. "We make them all ourselves."
I browse my eyes over the flavors. As I stare at each one, I can imagine the taste. Apple and walnut gelato. Irish cream gelato. Glazed cherry and coconut gelato. Double chocolate gelato. Rum and raisin gelato. Fish gelato. Wait.
"Fish gelato?"
"Oh, yes." The man explains. "That one's for dogs. It has no sugar. It's surprisingly popular. We made it once to test it; we get a lot of dog owners come down here especially for it."
"You love your work." I say to him.
"Yes." He smiles. "Yes I do."
I decide to go with a flavor I've never tried before - peach and cream gelato. The man hands me a generous scoop in a waffle cone, and I reach into my pocket. No wallet. No money. I look at him, and he looks back at me. He understands what has happened.
"Pay me next time." He says.
"Actually, you know what?" I say to him. "I have money in my other pocket. I always have money in my other pocket." I swap my ice-cream into my other hand, and reach into my other pocket - and pull out a wad of cash. Rather than juggle the cash trying to find the right amount, I give him the whole lot.
"Call it a down payment on future cones." I begin to walk away.
"This is insane!" He calls. "Come back and take your change!"
"I don't need it. You have it."
The man protests but I keep walking until I can't hear him anymore. I stroll down the courtyard as I try some of the peach and cream gelato. It's brilliant - soft and delicious - the flavor of real peaches and real cream are vivid. Possibly the best ice-cream I've ever had.
I wonder what I'm going to do next. I can think of a hundred things I'd like to do, and all of them are possible. I might go and buy a Ferrari and drive down to the mountain to go snowboarding. I might take a bus to the beach and see if I can find a game of volleyball to join in. I might take a flight to Japan, or Europe, or Australia, and see what comes of it.
I round the corner, finishing my cone, and I hear a voice behind me.
"Hey! Smart ass!" It's the doorman. "Yeah I'm talking to you! Come back here." I stop and turn. The doorman looks dirtier than he did before. Some soil falls off his clothes as he strides towards me, in a rage. Yet with all that rage, it cannot even make a dent in my wonderful, content, warm and comfortable feeling which is beaming through me, strong as ever. As the doorman reaches me I can see his bunched fist, he intends to strike me but I know that I'm in no danger.
"YOU'RE the one who's infallible!" He shouts as he closes in. He's rehearsed that line a little bit, so it seems a shame that he clearly doesn't know what infallible means. He winds up and throws his fist at me.
"Stop." I say, calmly. The man freezes, his fist just two inches from my nose. "Calm down." The doorman's shoulders drop a bit, yet it's clear he doesn't know why.
"Your problems are your own." I continue. "You, and people like yourself, will never take them out on other people, ever again." The man's jaw drops as he tries to figure out what's happening in his head.
"Violence is hereby banned, forevermore." I say, looking him firmly in the eye. "People will forever be able to solve their own problems, simply by thinking about them in a calm state. From this point on, the solution comes quickly and easily to every person who takes the time to think about them." The doorman is shocked. He knows some kind of witchcraft is going on, but he is powerless against it.
"Whenever someone is stressed, they will take a deep breath. And the stressed feeling will subside and be replaced by this feeling of warmth, calmness, comfort and peace. Because deep down you know that stress will get you nowhere. And that applies to everyone, not just those who can hear me right now. Do you understand?"
The doorman nods and quivers, as irrevocable changes take place. I take a deep breath. I notice my own warm feeling surging, as if I'm swimming in a warm ocean with the sun in my face. The feeling glows and pulses as other people in the streets around me stop and have their own mental adjustments. I feel a collective weight lift off everyone's shoulders, as if gravity is softening.
I smile and step onto a passing tram headed towards the beach. I understand what has happened today, and I am glad for it. I know that I'll have a great day today, and tomorrow morning I'll wake up and everything will be back to normal - but the changes I've put in place will remain.
If you enjoyed this short story, you can read the complete collection on Kindle and program your subconscius for more lucid dreams tonight.
Carefully crafted in order to emulate a lucid dream state, each thought-provoking story tells the tale of a dreamer exploring their subconscious mind - and piecing together the puzzles that plague them...
Infallible by Peter Casale......................................Page 3
Robots by Rebecca Turner.....................................Page 8
Mirror Image by Bruna Zanelli.............................Page 13
Reaper by Rebecca Turner...................................Page 18
System Idle by Josephine Holroyd.......................Page 21
Mutual Realities by Rebecca Turner....................Page 26
The Musketeers by Cyrene Holder.......................Page 29
The Same Stupid Dream by Alison Gresik............Page 33
Desert Dreams by Rebecca Turner.......................Page 40
Living in The Past by Ben Turner.........................Page 42
The Wishbone by Peter Casale.............................Page 46
Shipwrecked by Rebecca Turner..........................Page 52
Set in the past, present and future, Lucid Fiction makes for an eclectic romp through the realities and dreams of our unwitting heroes and heroines...These stories travel uncharted territory, with surprising twists and turns, and a pleasant resolution at the end of every tale.
Want to know more before you download Lucid Fiction?
Infallible - What if you made all the rules in life? What would you do? What if, with a few words and a deep breath, you could re-write the laws of the universe?Robots - In the not-so-distant future, technology has overcome the need for sleep and dreaming. Inserted into the brains of all newborn babies, the Sleep Chip ensures the survival of a thriving 24-hour society - but at what cost?
Mirror Image - Can dreams tell the future - or the past? When Laura begins to dream the same dream on a regular basis, she finds herself drawn, reluctantly, into a frightening plot... But is she an intruder, or a key participant?
Reaper - In a topsy-turvy lucid dream world of impossibilities, a woman is intrigued by the presence of a girl who appears only whenever she becomes lucid. What does the girl want? Why can't she communicate? Soon the woman begins to understand why their realities are now clashing...
Mutual Realities - At London's top sleep research laboratory, four lucid dreamers are given the ultimate challenge: to meet up inside a shared lucid dream. The experiment produces a shocking result, particularly when once participant makes a stark revelation... prompting the others to question the nature of their reality.
The Musketeers - Sandra is trapped in her grief over the loss of her young son. Her loyalty to his memory forces her to deny herself happiness from anywhere else. But her predicament comes to a head one stormy night when she has yet another horrifying dream about her missing son.
The Same Stupid Dream - Jerome has escaped the bullies in his fifth grade class by convincing his mother to homeschool him. But now they're come back to haunt his nightmares... Jerome must figure out how to get the bullies to leave him alone and stop the nightmares from coming back once and for all.
Desert Dreams - Charlie's dream world is like no other. He experiences vivid scenes of natural beauty - infinite desert landscapes and tropical rainforests. There is one single consistency to his dream life; he's always tracking the same man, a silhouette figure who lingers in the distance. Who is that man - and why does Charlie feel the need to pursue him?
Living In The Past - Bill lives an ordinary life of early morning trains and mid morning meetings. But recently he's been having vivid and recurring dreams of knights and castles, of medieval battles and jousts! What does it all mean? And why are they getting ever more realistic? Only Bill can uncover the truth...
The WishBone - Adapted from an Indian folk tale, this is the story of Tracy, who toils in the wheat fields every day in the aftermath of The Great Depression. Her life is one big struggle until she discovers the escapism of lucid dreaming. Then a strange man in a bowler hat mysteriously appears and gives Tracery a most unusual gift - one that will change her life forever.
Shipwrecked - Jack awakens with no memory on an isolated, tropical island. As he slowly adapts to his new environment, the days turn to weeks without any sign of rescue. But as Jack formulates his escape plan, he is about to make a disturbing discovery about the nature of this beautiful island...
Lucid Fiction is the work of seven international authors: Rebecca Turner, Peter Casale, Alison Gresik, Bruna Zanelli, Ben Turner, Josephine Holroyd and Cyrene Holder. Read their full biographies inside the book!
"You have the look of a man who accepts what
he sees because he is expecting to wake up.
Ironically, that's not far from the truth."
Morpheus, The Matrix
I launched the site as a hobby in 2008 and it quickly turned into my career, delivering a healthy income while I wrote more articles and developed my own multimedia lucid dreaming course. 
My partner Pete is also a frequent lucid dreamer and has become increasingly involved with building content for this website, not to mention the website design. 