Posts Tagged ‘time travel’

Oh the manic life I lead. A writers life is one of fits and starts… drudgery and exhilaration. After approximately one and a half years I  get to rest my weary head and scream for a day or two now that my newest book is out the door. For my friends who have followed my progress  since the project began I give you the first page of the final manuscript… just hours before it becomes available to the general public. Thanks for all your support. Thirteen Angels will be available on Kindle, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Sony, Kobo ( and others- distributed internationally at $2.99 usd) as an eBook. Hard Copy will become available soon for collectors.

CHAPTER ONE

CASTLE D’ARC, 2065

Tangled lightning lashed Castle D’Arc. Its crenulated silhouette outlined a gap-toothed scream against every explosive crack of fire. Each quick following barrage of thunder suggested Armageddon. The embattled redoubt fought raging tides threatening to rip out foundation stones and cast them into the greedy maw of an encircling leviathan. Two cassock-draped figures strode desolate battlements, unrecognizable under long woolen hoods. The cloth was stretched into shapeless socks, a vain attempt to thwart the stinging slap of freezing rain.

“Damn this weather”, snarled the smaller man. His teeth flashed white. No matter which way he turned, an icy wind stabbed at his eyes, blinding him, as if the world vengefully denied him sight of it. Another splinter of ragged lightning shred the gloom, exposing his upturned face, a mask of angry vexation. “This is how I imagine hell”. He beat his skeletal hands and stamped like an impatient stallion.

“It is a hell of your own creation brother”. A familiar voice subtly reminded Azazel they stood on hallowed ground. Conscious-stricken, he choked back his irreverence and offered up a prayer of contrition. The rueful monk hoped his deity would understand a loyal servant’s frustration after a lifetime of disappointment.

“Oh lord”, he begged, “Have mercy”. He bowed his painfully stiff back into the attitude of a grateful supplicant and whispered, “If you look down upon me you will see I have been the victim of the constant and unremitting malice of fortune”. His need for penance sated, the monk resumed his march. “Where is it?” He returned to ranging the impenetrable night with bursts of psychic energy. Azazel shook his fists in the face of the wind like a combatant avowed to fight on in defeat. He prayed the coven’s collective will was strong enough to turn back this storm. It felt certain nature’s wrath was set deliberately against them.

“It’s just a storm”, the same voice chastised. “Remember where you are”. Azazel kept his lips closed with the expression of a man inwardly laughing that he would be the one to welcome the Holy Arc and resurrect the Eye of Ba’al. Destiny chose him to lead this cycle. He hoped it was the final step towards ending his miserable life.

“I don’t see you out here” he shot back contemptuously. His obdurate prayers had been stripped naked by the tempest.

13 Angels cover

Have you ever awakened from a dream, still immersed in that separate reality,  feeling as if you’re being torn backwards on the end of an elastic bungee cord, out of one world and into the next, through a cosmic wormhole that has opened in your mind? I have met people who say they don’t dream, I don’t understand that. My life is composed of dreams, so intense and real in every aspect that the characters of each world are posed like actors waiting in the wings for their time on stage while others read their lines center stage in the play called ‘My Life’. Not to dream is not to live. Have you ever wondered which world is imaginary in the first moments of consciousness?

Time, as a concept, troubles me. I don’t wear a watch and don’t own a calendar. I used to have a collection of watches and plastered free bank calendars across the door of my kitchen refrigerator. The mundane chequered squares below the generic postcard pages would be scrawled and inscribed with cryptic reminders of dates and the details of nebulous plans for a future over which I had no control over. The watches and chronographs have been sold at various times without regret as trinkets of salvage that had lost their value and meaning.

My kitchen refrigerator is now plastered with colourful magnetic stickon’s from places and things I have visited since I dumped the concept of time in the bin. I use refrigerator magnets as time portals to periods of  past pleasure rather than have tedious calendars dictate my future and remind me that I have no time. Whether my refrigerator has become a de facto ‘Tardis’ is something I’ll have to think about.

Occasionally, I  receive a renewal notice for property tax or auto insurance  and be drawn back momentarily into the present. I  realize then that the time that has passed between ‘here and there’ and ‘then and now’ doesn’t seem possible and feels entirely unrealistic and unlikely. I’ll spend a few moments attempting to organize my vagrant thoughts into a coherent timeline.

There are times when it’s felt impossible to rationalize the time that has been passed through when weighed against the time I have spent doing whatever it is I do to pass the time. My habit of total immersion in the places, people and culture of the places and people that I meet and enjoy while traveling away for extra long periods of time has had the effect of shifting my concept of real time, I tend to live in several worlds at the same time, at least that is what my mind is telling me.

Memories and habits have a tendency to remain ‘sticky’ in both  body and  mind. Skypeing has become a separate state of being physically in another time zone, while your mind  keeps to the rational framework of the part of the world you are in. Can the constant traveler  learn to exist in altered times simultaneously without effect? Is this part of what dreams do? Do they truly bridge the gap between what the educated mind cannot comprehend? Being in instant communication with people around the world in real time seems to me to have rendered the concept of time irrelevant and made the concept of time travel more real. Time has become an accounting principle and I am no bean-counter where it comes to living my life.

( to be cont’d)