This past weekend, I flipped through channels aimlessly and landed on the sequel to Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Rudolf's Shiny New Year. Who knew there had been a sequel? Better yet, who knew that Santa and Father Time would send Rudolf on a time-traveling adventure? Nevermind that the monster bird, Eon, would blow his nasty old breath and send Rudolf spinning in the wrong temporal direction. It happens. Mostly in the form of a nasty old plot siren at the end of your rewrites saying, "Wouldn't it be better if you changed your protagonist's internal motivation for the entire book? Hmm?"
CBS is now jumping into the science fiction hour of ratings power by developing a series called Murmurs. The drama involves a group called The Commission who must repair alterations in time known as "murmurs" to ensure history remains untouched. No doubt they'll follow their proven CSI formula and have female agents with mummy-tailored, cleavage-enhanced shirts, a moody leader with only one expression in his acting repertoire (ala David Caruso), and camera angles and neon lights to simulate the fun not found in any office setting. Anywhere. Score one for time travel though.
Time travel back to this post where I was considering entering my novel in the Next Best Celler contest. This was the one sponsored by Dorchester Publishing and Textnovel.com where authors post their stories in bite-sized increments hoping to hook their readers into a serialized, frequent experience. The five most-followed romance manuscripts have been announced and have a shot at becoming Dorchester's newest author. Search Textnovel.com by title to read the entrants' stories from the beginning.
Those teachers across the pond really know how to plant the seeds for our next generation of time travel obsessed authors. Imagine being called out of a mundane junior high school day in England to see a time machine parked in the teacher lot and witness a company of theater actors in period costume stumble out, teach about their era, and jump start a research-based history project. So much more engaging than staring at Dee-Snyder-ish slideshows of French Revolutionary leaders in the coma-inducing dark in Mr. Coffee-Breath's class. In a futile attempt to re-summon a link for you to view this foil masterpiece, the article seems to have vanished into the ether. Or my imagination. Or another time.
Finally, rocker David Bowie's son, Duncan Jones, formerly known as Zowie Bowie of what-the-hell-was-my-father-thinking fame, is developing a time travel movie called Source Code, fresh off a Best Debut Director accolade at the British Independent Film Awards. According to Variety, Source Code is "a story about a soldier who finds himself repeatedly placed into the body of another person just before the detonation of a bomb on a commuter train." Jake Gyllenhaal is in negotiations to take on the lead role. Um, negotiate? What, the degree of his awesomeness? Sign him up, Mr. Jones. Me thinks Mr. Prince of Persia has the same affinity for time stories as someone else we know. Mmmm?
There. I think I have it all out of my system so tomorrow I can speak of something relatable and grounded. Or as grounded as a Bond girl can get. Be sure to pop back tomorrow and follow the stiletto boot prints to my alter-blog.
Until then, let us know how you would spend the time if I gifted you an extra hour today.