Brian Martin’s memoir Between Worlds is not a book that asks for your belief. It asks only for your attention. From childhood abductions in Iowa to confrontations with shadow people, from the chaos of 1980s West Texas oil fields to a hard-won sobriety and spiritual awakening, Martin has lived a life that defies easy categorization. Praised by Next Best Read as “a bold, uncompromising work” with “a raw, unfiltered voice that feels deeply personal,” the memoir has already drawn comparisons to Communion and The Sober Truth. We sat down with Martin to talk about the craft behind this singular life.
What first drew you to writing?
Mythology. It was my first choice in genre growing up. I stumbled upon it looking for another sea adventure. The thought that I could traverse time, cast a viewpoint into the ages — wow! But what got me writing was the hero in all the stories. To one day inspire as they inspired me. To make that kind of a difference.
Have you always known you wanted to write?
To some degree, yes. It was something to dream of, perhaps attain one day, but when I started the Writers’ Workshops was when I actually set out to create a professional piece. Something worthy. There were many levels of satisfaction and growth I was beneficiary of through the need to scratch out my thoughts, but again, when I set out to create a work to be shared, I found myself wanting to remember all the things I loved first in reading. How it shaped and impacted me. What was most attractive in a protagonist. Why I loved the dark and what goes bump in it.
“This desk is where worlds are built, wings are unfurled, and peace of mind is had.”
Describe your writing space.
It is the most intimate of spaces, respected by all in the house. My husband brought me an antique Doten Dunton Oak Rolltop Desk. I mooned over it in the store. We certainly did not need it, but he wanted me to have it knowing that writing was the only in-home outlet I had besides a TV. A TV was more a tool for me at the time, anyhow. You see, I took care of his mom, Nancy, as she had severe Alzheimer’s. I had given up my job to do it. She had accepted me from go and I loved her. Hardest thing I ever did was to care for her. That was how I got into Writers’ Workshops, too. He would watch her while I would spend an hour or two at the library with others endeavoring to write a better story. This desk is where worlds are built, wings are unfurled, and peace of mind is had.
What does your work schedule look like?
My work has always surrounded my family needs. Though my mother and Nancy are gone now, they both were a big part of my home life. I also have two special needs guys I care for. Fully adult and high functioning. They have work schedules to consider also. Then there is my husband, Larry. My ability to bank money must revolve around family factors, so often it is a catch-as-catch-can opportunity, packing in as many hours in and around a weekend when others would rather be off. Then there are the domestics of cooking, cleaning, counseling, transport, doctors’ visits, and so on. Writing is and has always been a form of self-care. It is inserted where it can be with the fervor of the religious.
What are the essential tools of your trade?
I just read somewhere that handwritten work activates more areas in the brain than typing. Pen and paper are the start of everything. Now, the pen is special as is the paper. I have been known to bind my own booklets with tons of notes and thoughts. As the writing evolves into type, as it must, I use the most grandiose font in the beginning. I want to be pleased with myself, immersed completely in faith that what I am doing is special, even if only to me. The most important tools in the chest will always be whatever inspires you to write.
“Evil is easy. It is the truly good who inspire the most, because it is hardest for them to be who they are.”
When writing emotionally charged scenes, how do you get in the right headspace?
Get good with it in your head and heart, and then the real work begins — because no matter how well you are, or are not, comfortable with said subject matter, it is the reader to whom you must sell it. Start small, like dipping their toe in the water. If speaking of attraction, start small. If dealing with remorse, start small. Murder: start small. Just as an oak starts with an acorn, it must start small. The fragrance of her freshly scrubbed. The way the hairs lay on the back of his wrist. A lower lip bite. The slow-building storm in the mind’s eye that leads to a creased brow, a slanted perspective, the hatred that grows with the headache to reveal the target of thought. Get them into it, yes, but you must be able to embrace it yourself first. Honesty can be difficult.
How do you handle literary criticism?
As a creative I found myself going to school for graphic arts. The classrooms were like people aquariums, so one got used to critique early on. You got to hear it through the glass as people walked by, from the instructors, the classmates. I used those skills in the arenas of Writers’ Workshops. And then you learn to take only what matters. What works. To differentiate between hurtful and helpful, and to be able to grow into it when they are both.
How much world-building happens before you actually start writing?
Ironically, too much. I think I become in love with an idea before it is fully fleshed out and get stuck on this or that, spending way too much time on it, certain it is going to lead to b, c, d and so on. I just love to get carried away, and I have found that the initial kernel is what I should be focusing on. A certain amount of planning is good, but there have been numerous occasions when I could have spent 90 percent of that work in the writing itself.
What is your ideal book hero or heroine?
Ideally, it is the good guy or gal. Truly good. They inspire the most because it is hardest for them to be who they are. Evil is easy.
ABOUT THE BOOK
Between Worlds: A Life of Abduction, Addiction, and Awakening
In Between Worlds, Brian Martin delivers a raw, unflinching account of a life shaped by extraordinary encounters with beings from beyond our understanding. From his earliest childhood memories of “The Others” who took him aboard their ships, to confrontations with shadow people and cryptids that defied explanation, Martin weaves a tapestry of the paranormal against the backdrop of a troubled upbringing. The narrative follows Martin from an Iowa childhood marked by abuse and alien abductions through the harsh realities of 1980s West Texas, where his family struggles to survive in a transient oil field community. As his life spirals into alcoholism and self-destruction, the paranormal encounters continue, bringing both terror and moments of transcendent connection.
With unflinching honesty, Martin chronicles his eventual path to sobriety and spiritual awakening, suggesting that his extraordinary experiences served a greater purpose in his journey toward healing. The memoir culminates in a synthesis of recovery wisdom and cosmic perspective as Martin confronts mortality, finding peace amid the incomprehensible. The author’s polygraph results, included in the afterword, add yet another layer to this already compelling narrative.
“Between Worlds is a bold, uncompromising work that will resonate most strongly with readers drawn to deeply personal stories that challenge conventional frameworks and invite interpretation rather than easy conclusions.”
— Next Best Read
CONNECT WITH BRIAN MARTIN
Read Brian’s blog, The Attic, and subscribe at brianmartin812.wordpress.com. Reach him directly at [email protected]. A newsletter is also available on request.
Order Between Worlds on Amazon: amzn.to/3ODWjSP
