I read the only other review of this book on Goodreads, and the reviewer, sadly, writes like he believed this was not a work of fiction. It is glorious fiction, extrapolating sensationally, to the mind of someone living in the 1960s and 1970s, what a real mind-expanding drug might do. The drug is never referred to as LSD. It is something else, perhaps in the same class, but never does the author pretend he is writing about LSD and its effects. In point of fact, there is no known level of LSD ingestion that would produce the death-like coma experienced by the character who accidentally ingests a massive dose of some experiemental drug. The writing is pseudo-scientific, as is typical of the times, even in books labeled as science fiction. This story is one written somewhat in the style of H.P. Lovecraft, without of course, Cthulhu, or the horrible endings. The author delves into the occult, offering a rational explanation for reports of out-of-body experiences, ghost sightings, possessions, and other unexplained phenomena, by having us believe that such things are natural powers of the human mind, which, in a sense, they are, even in reality. This is a work of fiction, published in 1971, not in the 2000s. For its time it is a fun read. The author injected some of his own personal fantasies, to be sure, but overall the pacing and suspense are well done. Hurwood appears to have gone on from here to write dozens of other popular novels, so I think he knows a thing or two about the human psyche.
This book is vomit, I stopped 30% in. It reads like a 14 year olds fantasy, with the same level of English to boot. Only its supposed to be a serious study in LSD and the brain. Do not read this book, instead steal it wherever you'll have the misfortune to see it and burn it.