After a time, Tony moved away from his favorite spot where he leaned on the side rail and worked his way forward, as far as passengers were allowed to venture on the main deck. Then he climbed over a chain and walked unnoticed in the dark past the heavy deck equipment, the cranes and funnels, on beyond the crew's quarters and all the way to the extreme bow of the ship. There he was able to lean forward over the rail and look below and under him. The ship cut a smooth gash in the black waters. There was no rolling or tossing but a continuous forward slicing into the darkness.

The wind was surprisingly strong up there, and he did consider what would happen if he fell into the water from this precarious stand. Tony gripped his hands a little tighter on both sides of the rounded prow and stared ahead into the night. He was aware of his body suspended and rushing through the wind into the dark unknown. Holding that position and that mood, standing alone in the world, he felt close to peace. His mind relaxed, and suddenly there was Gagetta. Rushing through the dark sea of his mind brought him face to face with the very figure he most wanted to avoid. Gagetta stood there like an apparition appearing unsummoned out of the night. The figure was not merely suspended in front of the moving ship but filled the void everywhere Tony turned his head.

more excerpts

Any one of us may suddenly act in such a manner as to bring a shrill cry if only in our mind: Why did I do that? Then, puzzled, bewildered, and perhaps fearfully, we may demand an answer. Only to find there seems to be none. Certainly no recognizable motivation for what we have done.

For the most part, we shrug off these questions, more or less content to live without answers. But such a question can haunt us indefinitely. In "August in the Mind," when Tony Antonelli attempts to kill a total stranger, he asks this question. And he knows immediately he must find the answer.

He is quick to realize it will not come from a book, the reassurance of a friend, or even a doctor. He must discover the answer himself. And do so alone.

Tony's quest soon leads to his roots in Italy, then deeper into the lives of his ancestors. Into what they did, and why.

As the answer to his question continues to elude him, he becomes ever more certain it lies buried within lives long since ended. That in some way, he has inherited an ancient hatred. That thoughts about genetic memory are not idle speculation.

Tony does find an answer that satisfies him. You'll have to read this remarkable book, journey along with Tony, to discover whether or not it will satisfy you.

While riding a train from Rome to Florence, I was gazing up at one of those Medieval hill towns when the strangest feeling disturbed my equanimity. It was as though an ancient mystery lingered through the centuries until it surfaced in my mind.

In August in the Mind, which I wrote after this experience, architect/engineer Tony Antonelli develops a strong antagonism to a stranger who appears at his work place, and before that had appeared in unsettled dreams... Without apparent provocation, he attacks the man.

Seeking to find the cause for his behavior, Tony, first internally and then physically, chases the shadow of memory until he arrives at a walled-in hill town in central Italy. There in Montepulciano, on the steps of an a Medieval Duomo, he survives a traumatic experience which helps him comprehend his actions.

Nick Taddeo
Pasadena, California