Curiosity, Accountability & Love

Podcast: Inside Personal Growth with Greg Voisen:

BookTrib. Review: Troubled Detective Hunts Serial Killer While Fighting to Balance Cosmic Scales

The Karma Factor by Thomas Lane

Accomplished musician, poet and author Thomas Lane takes readers on an exciting and enlightening journey through time and space in The Karma Factor (Waterside Productions). After a series of unexplainable events, NYPD Detective James Early must harness a newly discovered inner power to find a ruthless serial killer bent on carrying out a sinister plan. 

Demonstrating remarkable literary talent, Thomas Lane transcends the troubled police detective trope by incorporating elements of Eastern philosophy, predestination and reincarnation in this fast-paced thriller. In the tradition of The DaVinci Code and Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Lane’s debut novel The Karma Factor is entertaining and thought-provoking; introducing readers to characters and concepts that are not often given center stage in Western culture…

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The Karma Factor Press Release on Music Talkers

MULTI-DIMENSIONAL CREATIVE THOMAS LANE HAS A MESSAGE OF HOPE THROUGH SONG, POETRY AND VIDEO

Author, poet and musician Thomas Lane shares selective works through his unique brand of creative activism, Lane’s work touches on an ailing world with the hope and resolve of a visionary with a universal perspective.

The latest song Underground Light is a response to a divided world and a planet at risk. Evolving from a collection of 12 interwoven songs, Lane’s CD Hotel Earth positions our planet as a hotel of infinite rooms, a place of astonishing beauty and astonishing hardship, where laughter and love are still the best antidote. Throughout the album Lane’s street-poet alias, Trakker bears witness to the journey: “every soul a story, every room a song, every fall a wakeup call.”

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Into the Outer Realms Podcast with Joey Madia

An inspiri(t)ing conversation with author, screenwriter, poet, musician, and activist Thomas Lane. We covered reincarnation, Karma, the Akashic Record, and the art and craft of storytelling.

Karma Factor Book Review in Splash Magazines

The Karma Factor – When Genres Collide

Thomas Lane, author of THE KARMA FACTOR, is clearly a complex individual with a foot – no, five separate toes – in different dimensions. On the surface, THE KARMA FACTOR is about NYPD detective James Early and his search for meaning and understanding in a multifaceted world. But who is Early, and why do images of Tibet keep racing through his mind? And what of Palden, who guides the orphan Tashi to his fate? Who is Usha, and what is her relationship to Desda? More importantly, how is it that a barrage of machine gun bullets fired point-blank into Early’s chest somehow misses? These are just some of the secrets which Lane posits and skillfully explores.

Author, poet, and musician Thomas Lane debuts his first novel, a work of visionary fiction exploring the boundaries of human consciousness within a classic suspense thriller. Born in Connecticut, Lane was raised in a culture of scholarship and critical thought by his educated and academically astute parents. He attended a Quaker boarding school in Pennsylvania and was elected captain of the basketball team and class president. Blessed with a high-voltage imagination, he joined the burgeoning folk scene in Greenwich Village. A passionate supporter of civil rights in the ‘60s, he also became interested in eastern philosophy. His resume was novel and varied, including teaching at a nursery school, road-managing an iconic music group, selling jewelry on city sidewalks, and working at the Renaissance Faire. Finally, his multiple paths coalesced, and he wrote his spiritual thriller, THE KARMA FACTOR.

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Chatting with Betsy: Passionate world talk radio

Different forces class. I couldn’t put it down.

A Secret Marriage: Western Science + Eastern Thought [The Karma Factor Excerpt]

THE LETTER

In the Spring of 1946, a renegade Tibetan monk named Palden, sat at a small desk in front of a fire and penned a letter. There would be thirty-two in all, dispatched to locations around the world. The envelopes would appear mysteriously on doorsteps and in mailboxes, read by scientists and mystics, artists, poets and philosophers. The message was simple: Humankind was on a path to self destruction. In the not too distant future, life would become unsustainable. The cycle must be broken. The monk had chosen his moment. The war was over. Hitler had been defeated. But tomorrow another strongman would rise again and the cycle of horrors would repeat over and over until the fragile ecosystems of life were destroyed, the miracle of Earth silenced forever. A new approach was called for…and the call was urgent. The letter asked the recipients to join Palden in a quest for answers … to extract themselves from their current lives and travel in secrecy to a designated place in the Tibetan Himalayas. Here, amidst the timeless skies and majestic peaks, there would be no distractions. No peer pressure…no preconceived ideas. The work could remain pure. Palden’s plea was impassioned. Western Technology and Eastern Thought must combine forces!!! Science and Spirit must unite and enter the realm of the human soul. The mysterious phenomenon of Karma awaits scientific investigation. Here on the Rooftop of the World, the answers could be found. On April 6, 1946, the letters were smuggled across the border into India and posted from there. Three weeks later, the invitations began to arrive. Soon thereafter, a sampling of advanced thinkers from around the world began to quietly disappear.

A Soul in Turmoil: Our Visionary Fable begins

EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER 1:

… Taking her arm, he navigated her around the chaos on the cluttered floor. Her traditional comment about the maid’s night off went unspoken. At the door, he put his arm around her waist. His six feet towered above her diminutive frame.

“It’s better for both of us this way. I mean it.” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Please take care of yourself.”

“Whatever.” She fixed her collar. “I’m not going to hold my breath, but if you need or want . . . hell, just a friend, call me.”

She leaned up against him and gave him a girlish kiss on the cheek. Turning quickly, she disappeared down the stairs into the darkness of the lower landing.

When he could no longer hear the click of her heels, he closed the door softly, then sagged against it, exhausted from his efforts. It was getting harder and harder to hold the surface together while the foundation was breaking into pieces.

Nevertheless, he had done all right. The break was clean. A week or so from now, she would be out drinking and flirting again. She had been placated with a piece of the truth—not the whole grisly picture. Much better that way.

He willed himself upright and into the living room, where he collapsed into the armchair in front of the fireplace. Alone now, the fire hissed and danced quietly before him.

His eyes scrutinized the small studio apartment. He was struck by its sadness, struck by the pervading sense of loneliness. The room was inhabited, yes, but not lived in. It hadn’t always been that way.

When, as a rookie cop, he had first moved in, he had commanded the space. Within months, he had turned it into a bastion of discipline and masculine aesthetics: dark wood and brick and things in their rightful places. As his condition worsened, however, things unraveled. Chaos was an easy mistress. Now, from the unmade bed to a floor strewn with empty bottles, pizza boxes, and newspapers, no sense of home was being articulated. Maybe it never would again.

Early leaned over and pulled his .38 revolver from the shoulder holster on the end table. It felt like a touchstone; the weight, the cold metal in his hand oddly soothing. The cylinder spun effortlessly beneath his fingertips. Round and round. He lifted it to his ear and smiled obliquely. Chamber music.

With the heel of his hand, he brought the spinning cylinder to an abrupt halt, then unloaded a single bullet. Turning it around between his thumb and index finger, Early examined it carefully. Sexy. A jewel of death. 

Rotating the chamber slowly, he emptied the rest of the ammo into his hand until all six bullets lay nestled in his palm. They were asleep now. A family. At peace in their snug metal jackets. Then, as if feeding them to a wild animal, he began to toss the bullets, one by one, into the fireplace.

“Here’s one for the sickos. One for the cop killers.”

Then two more.

“For all the scumbag lawyers, corrupt politicos. You’re the worse. You keep it all going. You’re supposed to know better.”

Without warning, the first slug hit meltdown and exploded, sending a shower of shattered brick from inside the chimney down onto the flaming logs. The second and third followed quickly as ash and smoke belched into the room.

Early’s face remained impassive as he fingered the last two shells. He isolated one.

“For all of you. Your crap. Not mine anymore.”

The next eruption came moments later, kicking out a fireball onto his carpet. A chunk of metal whizzed past his ear and tore into the wallpaper on the opposite wall.

The hallway outside filled with the sudden cacophony of rattling deadbolts sliding and doors flinging open and people yelling. Early ignored the commotion. Unaware of the silent tears on his cheek, he leaned closer to the pit of swirling sparks and ashes, the last bullet resting in the middle of his open hand.

“And this one, James Early, is for you. You and all your ghosts. You’re broken. Don’t know how to fix yourself.”

A furious knocking at his door startled him back to reality.

“Hey! Hey in there! Early, you all right?”

Disoriented, the detective looked around. Caustic smoke swirled around the room. Live coals glowed on the carpet and from the side of the armchair. He stared down at the bullet still cupped in his palm. It seemed out of focus. Surreal.

The knocking came again, this time louder.

But now the sounds were far away, in someone else’s bad movie. Placing the final bullet back into his revolver, he adjusted the chamber. When he needed it, it would be there. 

Slowly and deliberately, Early got up, went to his closet, and finished dressing. His plainclothes uniform never varied: white shirt, tie, black shoes. Beneath the grey sports jacket, his revolver and holster pressed against his ribs.

Trench coat under his arm, he crawled through the window and stepped out onto the fire escape. The sudden shift was abrasive. A sharp April wind lashed at his face. A massive city roared below.

Hands gripping the railing, he leaned out into the night. All around, the inky skyline peaked and plunged. Above, the stars shone like dull silver—cold, eternal nails hammered into the night sky.

As the wail of a siren grew closer, Early descended, zigzagging his way down to Seventy-Eighth Street. 

One thing was obvious. Whatever forces were conspiring, whatever madness was overtaking him, it was about to hit critical mass.

“Spiritual Combat in a Gritty Thriller”: A Review of The Karma Factor

Review by Joey Madia, Into the Outer Realms Podcast

Beautifully bound in a 7.5 × 9.25 inch hardcover edition, Thomas Lane’s debut novel is a fast-paced thriller with deep, compelling roots in the spiritual realms of Karma, reincarnation, and the Akashic Record. 

With the popularity of the timeline-jumping, what’s-the-nature-of-reality, can-you-change-the-future programming created by the likes of JJ Abrams, Christopher and Jonathan Nolan, and Steven Moffat, audiences in the 2020s are more knowledgeable about nontraditional storytelling than ever and are eager to take the leap into the dark, churning waters at the nexus of spirituality, philosophy, and advanced technology. Netflix series like Russian Doll, Archive 81, and the German-language Dark and 1899 rely on this audience education and interest, pulling no punches on the profound implications of our choices, the nature of reality, and the dangers of manipulating time and space. As we enter an age where advanced technology is changing the fabric of society and the wiring of hundreds of millions of minds, we must carefully choose between the Dark and the Light. 

This classic battle is at the core of The Karma Factor. Can we atone for past mistakes? Can evil be rehabilitated, or must it be destroyed? These are longtime debates about evil and the nature of divinity that over the centuries have caused innumerable deaths. Think of the Inquisition, the massacres of the Albigensian Crusade (the Cathar heresy), and the slaughter of Tibetan monks at the hands of the Chinese army. This battle still resonates today as certain sectors of society champion the cause of Transhumanism, where Homo sapiens become Homo Deus through the bodily incorporation of advanced technologies.

A poet, musician, playwright, and activist, Thomas Lane gives us a thought-provoking and at times heart-wrenching story that reads like a screenplay treatment—especially the first third, as the initial characters are being introduced and the stakes are being set. Heavy in provocative images and sparse in descriptive text, the novel moves along at a blistering, semi-surreal pace, frequently jumping locations and time periods as it elaborates on the stakes, and its hero, a jaded New York City police detective named James Early (think Mickey Rourke or Bruce Willis in their late 30s), answers the call to (a cosmic) adventure. The pace slows only slightly in the second act, as the text thickens as the targets of the villain are introduced and inciting incidents lead to larger actions. 

If you love crime procedurals, The Karma Factor has all the requisite tropes for which you could ask. Early and his partner don’t always get along—the tension in their fracturing relationship is palpable, fueling act one’s turbo-charged story engine and helping to set the stakes outside of the main arc involving the central antagonist. There is also a stripper with a heart, the always angry and ready to have a conniption fit police chief, spiritually ascended teachers operating from the shadows, two Dan Brown–esque villains (I mean that as a compliment), and a beautifully odd street musician named Trakker who, according to Lane’s bio, is the author’s analog. The dialogue is appropriately terse and edgy, and the landscapes are evocatively rendered. 

Lane moves the story back and forth through time and space with ease. He employs no gimmicks or red herrings, which some of the writers I referenced above take great delight in using to show off their outlining skills at the storyboard. Information is delivered as needed to keep the mystery intact but without any needless confusion. The spiritual messages of the novel are clearly too important to be obscured and diluted by mere clever writing. The tone and syntax of the writing also subtly change based on the time and place. 

Let’s get back to our hero, Detective James Early. While the extremes on either end of the character continuum of Dark and Light machinate, manipulate, and meditate—moving pieces on the board of human existence in their eternal cosmic gamesmanship—Early is the character with whom we most closely identify and empathize. A good son with a devoted, likeable mother, Early reconnects with a long-forgotten energetic past at a point in his life and career when he has nearly lost all hope. His resistance—or initial refusal of the call, to use a term from Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey—is not outsized, as is all too often the case with detective redemption stories, but appropriate to the present narrative. We all must pause a moment to consider the stakes and when the doubt remains even as the call is accepted… Well… isn’t that at the core of what we define as courage?      

If you are familiar with New York, the scenes in Gramercy Park, Yankee Stadium, Coney Island, Spanish Harlem, and the New York Public Library will resonate extra strongly with you. Lane gives us the Big Apple in all its complex, outsized range, from the poorest of the poor to penthouses and multimillion-dollar gated horse stables a few hours’ drive upstate. If you’ve done much in the way of spiritual study and practice—astral travel, lucid dreaming, drum journeying, sweat lodge, or transcendental meditation—the scenes in the Akashic Realm will also resonate with additional light. Lane’s conceptions of Karma, reincarnation, and accessing the Akashic Realm are solid and no doubt based on considerable research and practice. His description of Bardo—the Tibetan Buddhist version of purgatory—is spot on and appropriately chilling. Once again, the visual imagery that would be at the center of a screen version of The Karma Factor would be breathtaking and deeply moving.

With an action-packed act three and an ending that subtly hints at a sequel, The Karma Factor not only delivers on all of its IOUs—it provides ample food for thought as to how we live our lives, what poisons of the past we ingest, our connections to the cosmos, and why each and every one of our decisions matter. And, if this review is not enough to convince you, the back cover offers blurbs from two of Hollywood’s most talented storytellers—David O. Russell and Marc Forster. 

I want to take a moment to say again that Thomas Lane is not just a writer and musician. He founded The Helen Hudson Foundation, a charitable organization focused on social issues, including homelessness, racism, and the environment. Further, The Karma Factor is dedicated to “those who have outgrown denial and are rising up with courage and kindness to face a world in crisis.”

What more reason could you need for engaging with this work?