• T.P. O'Dúnín

Time and Again...

I had a bit of a “facepalm” moment last night while watching an episode of Dark Matter, a Sci-fi tv show I find entertaining. Don’t judge me! We’re all familiar with Godwin’s law; “As an online discussion grows longer, the probability of a comparison involving Hitler approaches 1” and I had a thought; is there a similar law for Science Fiction series’? The longer a series stays in production, the probability of a time travel episode approaches 1. Is this a thing? Does anyone know? I dislike the idea in Science Fiction in general, unless the overall plot is built around the premise of time travel, and not something added in as filler. To me it comes across as just a little bit lazy, not to mention the inevitable questions about paradoxes which have been chewed over again and again. I should clarify that it’s time travel to the past that annoys me most. I find travel to the future a little more palatable, which may or may not be a little inconsistent of me. I think there’s more to be said for future time travel as it can raise questions about predestination and free will. Personally, I find that more interesting and thought provoking.

In A Twisty Road, I started telling you about what I determined to be the beginning of my writing journey. I had the privilege to grow up in an area that is steeped in history. Within a mile or two I had access to a ruined castle, a ruined signal tower, a hidden beach, several sea caves, a pier, and miles and miles of fields. Venturing a little farther afield there were two ruined lighthouses, several more ruined castles and a mysterious bridge that joined a cliff to something that isn’t quite an island or a sea stack, but isn’t quite connected to the cliffs either. Blyton had provided the spark that my imagination needed to begin seeing all these places in a whole new light. I searched the ruined Castle for hidden dungeons, and the signal tower for a hidden basement. Crude rafts were built on that hidden beach and club houses built in the nearest of those sea caves, a place that was mercifully dry. This was my childhood, running loose around the locality, having adventures in my own mind. I doubt it was much different from many other people’s childhoods, but it was where I started.

School was another matter. Like most children, I was not a fan of homework, nor was I fan of getting up early. I think I would have preferred to not have been in school. I do remember one day in particular, a day that I consider to be the next Event on my journey. At around 11, my class and I were asked to write an essay. I don’t remember the topic, but I do remember writing the required page, then a second, then a third. I remember basing the essays on loose reimagining’s of Blyton’s works. I had started to enjoy essay writing, and although the essays were primitive and completely derivative, it was the next step.

T.P.

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