Brian Martin’s Between Worlds is an unflinching memoir wrapped in the surreal. It’s part trauma confession, part spiritual reckoning, and part cosmic fever dream. Martin tells of a life marked by abuse, addiction, strange visitations, and an aching search for meaning. The book opens in darkness, both literal and emotional, moving through scenes of childhood pain, hallucination, and haunting encounters that blend the psychological and the supernatural. As the story unfolds, it shifts from terror to transcendence, revealing a man grappling with his own mind and his memories, questioning what’s real and what’s revelation.

Reading this felt like wading through someone’s nightmares while clutching a flickering flashlight. Martin’s writing hits hard, raw and poetic in turns, and sometimes so vivid that it left me uneasy. His prose can feel chaotic, but that chaos feels intentional, like the inside of a fractured mind trying to make sense of itself. I found myself fascinated. The honesty is brutal. There are no neat answers, no tidy lessons, just waves of memory and madness that force you to sit with discomfort. I respected that. It made the book feel alive, even when it hurt to read.

At the same time, there’s a strange beauty threaded through all that pain. Martin writes about horror with the eye of a poet, and about faith with the heart of a skeptic. I could feel the ache of someone who wants to believe in something, God, magic, UFOs, salvation, but can’t ever quite grasp it. That struggle hit close. The spiritual parts don’t feel preachy. They feel desperate and human. There were moments when I had to pause just to take in how he could write about trauma with such raw tenderness.

Between Worlds is for readers who can handle truth that’s ugly and luminous at once, who don’t mind getting lost in someone else’s storm if it means finding a little light of their own. If you like memoirs that bleed honesty, or stories that blur the line between real and unreal, you’ll remember this one.

Pages: 307 | ASIN : B0FWN2PGHM