For Authors: October 06, 2010 Issue [#4008] |
For Authors
This week: Observations During a Step Back in Time Edited by: Fyn More Newsletters By This Editor
1. About this Newsletter 2. A Word from our Sponsor 3. Letter from the Editor 4. Editor's Picks 5. A Word from Writing.Com 6. Ask & Answer 7. Removal instructions
Today, we know that time travel need not be confined to myths, science fiction, Hollywood movies, or even speculation by theoretical physicists. Time travel is possible. For example, an object traveling at high speeds ages more slowly than a stationary object. This means that if you were to travel into outer space and return, moving close to light speed, you could travel thousands of years into the Earth's future.~~CLIFFORD PICKOVER, Time: A Traveler's Guide
If we could travel into the past, it's mind-boggling what would be possible. For one thing, history would become an experimental science, which it certainly isn't today. The possible insights into our own past and nature and origins would be dazzling. For another, we would be facing the deep paradoxes of interfering with the scheme of causality that has led to our own time and ourselves. I have no idea whether it's possible, but it's certainly worth exploring.~~CARL SAGAN, NOVA interview, Oct. 12, 1999
Man ... can go up against gravitation in a balloon, and why should he not hope that ultimately he may be able to stop or accelerate his drift along the Time-Dimension, or even turn about and travel the other way.~~H.G. WELLS, The Time Machine
Once confined to fantasy and science fiction, time travel is now simply an engineering problem.~~MICHIO KAKU, Wired Magazine, Aug. 2003
Our heirs, whatever or whoever they may be, will explore space and time to degrees we cannot currently fathom. They will create new melodies in the music of time. There are infinite harmonies to be explored.~~CLIFFORD PICKOVER, Time: A Traveler's Guide
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Ah. October and the month that seems to celebrate dressing up...so to start the month we dressed up and traveled to the Renaisance Faire!
Carefully dressed in clothing vaguely reminiscent of the time, and opting for a station in life we most likely would not have experienced, we traveled north through streams of traffic, covering the sixty some miles in far less time than it once would have taken, to arrive early enough such that our noble carriage could be parked as close to the gates as possible. The threatening skies divested themselves of copious amounts of rain and we mud-bogged through trampled fields and skidded to a stop just short of a rather large oak tree. Joining the throngs of brave souls we slipped and splashed our way to the imposing stone gates and stepped back in time.
Now this 'stepping' is a mental one, but with all due concentration, an excellent imagination and a propensity for ignoring those strange creatures who seemed a blur out of step, one could fancy oneself to be in another time and place. Of course, the mud underfoot only added to the realism and the cool (read that as wet and cold!) temperatures added their accents to the discomfort one might have once felt far from a roaring fire on faire day.
Celtic accents abounded and for this moment in time, I was a cross between a wandering story teller, a mage and someone of dubious origin given I had pointy ears, a dragon entwined around my neck and was carrying a curiously magical contrivance. This small rectangular box had within a tiny sprite who had the ability to paint marvelously realistic portraits in a ridiculously small amount of time. The Queen herself, thought my sprite a most fascinating creature whose portrait of Her Majestic Self was, indeed, most flattering.
And so, one wandered, spending the coin of the realm to munch on turkey legs and Shepard's pie or on trinkets and baubles to be gifted at a later date. My daughter, who traveled this journey with me, spent precious coin, far too much of said coin, to ensure that she might, indeed, retain a modicum of warmth and dryness by purchasing a long, enveloping cloak with a hood to fend off the 'Insidious Damp' which else-wise creeped in causing much uncomfortable shivering, numb body parts and general, a condition which at any other time should have had me running for warmth at a dead run. (mud not withstanding!)
We met Irish knights both gallant and brave. We encountered the Sheriff who carried a personae oozing as much with evil as he did of slimy courtesy. Baudy wenches, jugglers, fire-eaters and sword flashing duelists. Thundering hooves of jousting horses rang through the air as did bagpipes and laughing children. The sun peeked through for a time, raising temperatures, the scent of wet wool and something else far less pleasurable to scent and yet but added to the reality of the experience. A step into a store selling scented candles was most enjoyable at this time.
Wandering, no particular destination in mind, I am alerted to the impending arrival of the Queen's Parade. Horns trumpet her arrival. Bagpipes play and the parade of nobles and merchants approaches. Leading the parade, was an honor guard carrying the American Flag, the state flag of Michigan as well as varying flags of the realm. Costume not withstanding, I flew forward in time, stopped and placed my hand over my heart. So did a wizard. And a troll. As did a barbarian. Three knights next to me saluted the flag. Full attention and a military salute. Children saluted. Moms and Dads with children perched on their shoulders saluted. As did the children above. Everyone smiled. Camaraderie grew even stronger. Honestly, it was a very, very nice moment.
It was interesting to simply sit and watch the populace mill about as I took refuge on a fairly dry bench at the edge of the Queen's Garden, resting sore and soaking feet for a time. Some folk persisted in useless attempts to stay mud free. Others, slogged through, heedless of mud spattered clothing, as they navigated puddles and slick rises in the uneven pathways. Children, for the most part, were of a joyous temperament handling occasional muddy spills with panache even as their parents shrugged and smiled, no doubt dreaming of that point in time when washing dirt clogged clothing was a much simpler matter to deal with! Men, both those of the noble persuasion and those of the sort to be far happier frequenting the ale house for another dose of innards-warming mead treated their ladies-faire with roses, treats and laughter. I overheard one young gentleman proclaim the faire to be even better than his new video game! (What-ever THAT is!)
Merchants hawked their goods as people swarmed into any covered space during another downpour. A child's crying--that of a tired, mid-afternoon 'been there all day' wet child-- was quickly hushed by a wafting of fairy dust and a ride on Dad's broad shoulders. My mind stretched forward in time and back to a previous holiday season as I thought of tired children, cranky parents, fat snowflakes and harsh words over-powering canned carols. How was it that similar (really) situations produced such differing responses?
By late afternoon, a tired, bedraggled crew of soggy time travelers headed though rivers of running mud to retreat into modern day vehicles with instant heat, dry socks (Oh had I only thought ahead!) and the trip back to now. This morning's beautiful regalia was shed behind towels or car doors and exchanged for sweatshirts, dry flannels and sweat pants. (again...I should have thought ahead!) Laughter bounced from one car to the next. My daughter and I sat there in soaked clothes absorbing heat from blowing vents and complained about sore muscles as we talked about the marvelous time we had. Toes, numb for hours, regained feeling. We giggled about my driving home barefoot. I think each of my moccasins weighed about five pounds as laden with mud as they were. My daughter sneezed and we thought about how we'd both have pneumonia by Wednesday. And then went back to happily reminiscing about the days adventures.
Home to hot coffee thoughtfully produced by my hubby after the 'we're on our way home' phone call. Forward in time to a warm house, a washer, and a comfy, warm chair. Home to the nap that claimed both of us, dragging us into the land of unconsciousness with no complaint.
It was a nice trip back in time. It was nice to come forward to the conveniences we all take for granted. |
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Tornado Dodger said:Another great NL Fyn. I look forward to the interview with Sheila. I've only recently learned of her writings, as I just became friends with Andrew, her son. Great NL about overcoming adversity. I completely agree with your two trains of thought. I believe in the exact same two. Keep up the great work! ~ Brooke
The interview with Sheila Kay Adams will be in November's Newsletter :) Seemed more appropriate !
Fiona Hassan : says:Thanks for the newsletter about putting bumps in our characters' lives. I have a bad tendency to make things too easy for my characters and that can lead to bad cases of writer's block. I can't help it - I either love or hate my characters! (hate, because when I do put in "left field hits" I put in way too many!)
Ah the joys of the happy medium!
A thinker never sleeps writes:It sounds like you've been through a lot. I know how you feel. Thanks for sharing your positive perspective! It helps remind others in a bad place to keep on with it.
Positivity is the only way, all else leads to giving up! Eternal optimist...that's me!
MD Maurice comments: Great newsletter, the sentiment really struck a chord with me this week. I have always written through my adversity and found it to be the most effective way for me to find strength and healing. I'm sure that's true for many people on this site. Good words and good inspiration!
Oldwarrior adds:I agree with you and enjoyed your letter. It is said that when one door closes, another one opens!
Thank you! Excellent advice as well!
LJPC - the tortoise says:Your idea about adding chaos and mayhem to your characters' lives is terrific. Sometimes things do come out of left field. In a story, the more surprising, the better. You can up the tension level and explore your characters in a new light. When I'm stuck (or my narrative seems to be dragging), I've been known to throw in a barroom brawl or an alien/monster attack. Works for me!
Thanks, Laura. *envisions how to work in some aliens to break through her latest brick wall of a block!*
jitsufreek says: It's funny how you mention that things happen for a reason. I've been going through this awful block for the last few weeks. And I've been totally absent from WDC for some months now.
Your story about how you found WDC when everything was going wrong has instilled a quiet realization in me - that I need to come back.
Thanks.
Yes, of course you do! C'mon in...the words are fine!
Expressa said: This is an awesome newsletter. Sorry I cant respond right away, I only get certain times I can get on.
Again I love the website and your newsletters.
Thanks! And i agree: Writing.Com is THE BEST!
Zeke adds:Putting some form of crisis in a character's life offers a wide range of possibilities and also is a way of fleshing out the character for the reader. This is great advice.
Thanking you *smile*
Nomar Knight writes: Excellent newsletter. I especially liked this: "Giving a character their head (and some free rein) sometimes leads to an interesting journey!" Oh how much fun I have when allow the characters free reign. Thanks for including my story among other talented writers.
You are most welcome, kind sir! Thank you.
Christina~Thanks StoryMaster adds:What an awesome idea! Now that I read this, I realize how perfect my characters and their lives have been. And if not perfect in the beginning, then in the end for sure. But life isn't all rosy and there are ups and downs. I think that needs to be reflected in my writing. Thank you. Your newsletters make me think and I really love that!
I love making or encouraging folks to think! |
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