Post by Kim Falconer on Apr 1, 2010 20:44:59 GMT -5
Arrows of Time began with a dream. It was simple really—a woman laid out on a table, a man hunched over her. He turns to the wall and notes the clock. ‘Time of death,’ he says, ‘01:05 PM.’
And then I woke up. Cliché, I know. But it’s what happened.
In the light of day I realised who the woman was and why she had died and I could see potential for the man hunched over her. (His name is Dr Everett Kelly and he’s from a different … time.) As the story revealed itself, I got excited. It was thrilling to immerse in my characters again but even more than that, I was exploring notions of time in a new way. When I had a draft I rang my publisher Stephanie Smith. We talked for over an hour and at the end agreed the English language lacked the exact words necessary to describe what I wanted to portray.
The irony is that according to Einstein, time is an illusion. (Tell that to Rosette when she’s running out of it!) But if time is an illusion, it might explain why it’s so hard to pin down—and harder still to describe the process of time unfolding in anything but a ‘first—then—finally’ order. When we bend our perceptions of time, things get a little crazy. (Just ask Salvador Dali)
I wrote Arrows of Time as a speculative fiction, a story about real people up against the wall, immersed in nano-technology and witchcraft, sentient and gender biases, fast horses, hot bards, stunning tattoos and environments on the brink of destruction. The narrative is set in three worlds experiencing multiple sequences of time. The philosophical implications are optional— you can take ‘em or leave ‘em. It’s the story that counts.
Still, I do like a good philosophical implication now and then.
If you want to get on board, join me in this thought experiment:
1. Notice your primary belief about time.
What do you say to yourself? To others? What is your story? Does it go like this: ‘There is never enough time?’ or ‘Time’s running out?’ or ‘We’re under time constraints?’ or ‘I’d like to but I don’t have time?’ Your ‘story’ might be creating more issues than you think. Not convinced?
2. See what happens when you change your story.
For the next seven days, when you catch yourself telling your ‘old story’ about time, substitute this instead. ‘I have all the time in the world.’ Say it to yourself. Tell others. Write it down. And, be sure to leave any comments here, if you ‘find the time’
And then I woke up. Cliché, I know. But it’s what happened.
In the light of day I realised who the woman was and why she had died and I could see potential for the man hunched over her. (His name is Dr Everett Kelly and he’s from a different … time.) As the story revealed itself, I got excited. It was thrilling to immerse in my characters again but even more than that, I was exploring notions of time in a new way. When I had a draft I rang my publisher Stephanie Smith. We talked for over an hour and at the end agreed the English language lacked the exact words necessary to describe what I wanted to portray.
The irony is that according to Einstein, time is an illusion. (Tell that to Rosette when she’s running out of it!) But if time is an illusion, it might explain why it’s so hard to pin down—and harder still to describe the process of time unfolding in anything but a ‘first—then—finally’ order. When we bend our perceptions of time, things get a little crazy. (Just ask Salvador Dali)
I wrote Arrows of Time as a speculative fiction, a story about real people up against the wall, immersed in nano-technology and witchcraft, sentient and gender biases, fast horses, hot bards, stunning tattoos and environments on the brink of destruction. The narrative is set in three worlds experiencing multiple sequences of time. The philosophical implications are optional— you can take ‘em or leave ‘em. It’s the story that counts.
Still, I do like a good philosophical implication now and then.
If you want to get on board, join me in this thought experiment:
1. Notice your primary belief about time.
What do you say to yourself? To others? What is your story? Does it go like this: ‘There is never enough time?’ or ‘Time’s running out?’ or ‘We’re under time constraints?’ or ‘I’d like to but I don’t have time?’ Your ‘story’ might be creating more issues than you think. Not convinced?
2. See what happens when you change your story.
For the next seven days, when you catch yourself telling your ‘old story’ about time, substitute this instead. ‘I have all the time in the world.’ Say it to yourself. Tell others. Write it down. And, be sure to leave any comments here, if you ‘find the time’