I just trunked another 70,000+ words.
Those 70K+ words represented the third draft of my current WiP tentatively titled, The Temporal Photographer.
Of course, there are reasons and I’ll publish them in greater detail in a couple days. Just know for now that it was necessary to write a better, stronger and faster-paced novel.
Anyway, I thought it would be fun to share at least the first chapter of that tossed draft here. It’s just one page, but I hope you enjoy the quick read because it captures the essence of the story’s premise.
Time travel isn’t what you think it is.
You don’t climb inside a metal contraption and disappear. Glowing walls do not become temporal doorways. Forget lightning and electricity.
It’s actually not that hard to do though. In fact, I can show you how right now.
Close your eyes. Now think about a moment from your life. Maybe your first crush or your last heartbreak. Focus on that memory, and recall how you feel in the moment. Root the emotions in the images.
There. You just traveled back in time and experienced the past.
Then look to the future. It’s there. Believe me.
Come on, give it a shot. Shut your eyes again. Now visualize a moment you haven’t experienced yet. Maybe it’s quitting the job you hate or embracing the love of your life. Imagine how you feel inside this vision.
No worries, the future’s the one most people have a hard time wrapping their heads around. You’ve done it though. Ever experienced déjà vu?
That’s a one to five second glimpse into the future. There’s more of it out there, too. You just haven’t met it yet.
That’s how time works. It’s all available for recall.
Past. Future. Even the present. They’ve all happened, and they’re all still happening. It’s just a matter of seeing more than one perspective.
It’s bizarre when I attempt to explain it so I won’t try anymore. I’ll just write down what I remember, and pray you understand.
But damn me for not seeing with eyes wide open until now, maybe I could have saved more lives.
Image courtesy of rozanabalint /Depositphotos.com