I’m awful excited about my next work!
See, I recently graduated from the University of Washington and while there I could not focus on my writing. Too much homework! Of course, homework took all priority in my life during my years at university.
Okay, enough with that. A few days ago I happened to be perusing some old cyber files that were, like, written before I began school and I found a time travel that involves the twelfth century. It’s all plotted out and everything! All I need to do is write it. Forgive me for saying so myself, but it is a very interesting story where both the hero and the heroine have lived both now and then. Their parallel lives are so intermingled that they have no choice in the duty that fate delivers to them! Did I mention that I just can’t wait to work on this story?!
If you like time travels; you’ve just got to read this!
Romance through the mists of time and Love through the dimensions of reality
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
psychic abilities in my family
There seems to be psychic abilities that run in my family. I know I have believed for a long time that I’m receptive to the other side because of my inexplicable adult experiences. I have a cousin other than the little one I spoke of in my last post, who has spoken of such things, and an aunt too. I digressed there for just a moment because there was another event during my childhood that both my sister and I experienced!
It happened in the house we lived in as children. We grew up in an older home in the country. Our bedroom doorway stood exactly opposite the bathroom doorway, and on separate nights, from our bedroom, we each saw a man standing in front of the bathroom’s mirror. We didn’t just see a man; we saw the same man! When we compared our encounters we agreed he looked exactly like Abraham Lincoln.
We still speak of that often when we are together.
Romance through the mists of time and Love through the dimensions of reality
It happened in the house we lived in as children. We grew up in an older home in the country. Our bedroom doorway stood exactly opposite the bathroom doorway, and on separate nights, from our bedroom, we each saw a man standing in front of the bathroom’s mirror. We didn’t just see a man; we saw the same man! When we compared our encounters we agreed he looked exactly like Abraham Lincoln.
We still speak of that often when we are together.
Romance through the mists of time and Love through the dimensions of reality
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Ready for another ghost story?!
Today I’m going to tell you about something that happened when I was just a little girl of ten. It scared me so bad I could not even Breathe! But that was before I knew that ghosts aren’t scary. LOL! Now, Demons, that’s another story.
My family was on vacation visiting relatives In Louisiana and I was staying the night with my second cousin. I had over-heard talk about my cousin’s house being haunted, but I was too busy being ten years old to worry about that.
That night, in the middle of the night, I woke up because something had lain across my lower legs. My little cousin lay asleep beside me and I could not move for fear of what laid on top of me! I could not see a thing. It was dark. And quiet. I could not hear a thing. The only reason I knew my cousin lay beside me was because I felt her presence the same as when we’d gone to sleep.
It could have been a small pet, but, They Did Not Own any indoor pets! I did not know what the weight could be and I could not breathe because of that! I don’t know how I lived through the night because I KNOW that I was Not Breathing! I did not know what else I could do other than remain motionless.
When I woke the next morning there was nothing on my legs and everything and everyone was, like, normal!
I never went back there again!
Romance through the mists of time and Love through the dimensions of reality
My family was on vacation visiting relatives In Louisiana and I was staying the night with my second cousin. I had over-heard talk about my cousin’s house being haunted, but I was too busy being ten years old to worry about that.
That night, in the middle of the night, I woke up because something had lain across my lower legs. My little cousin lay asleep beside me and I could not move for fear of what laid on top of me! I could not see a thing. It was dark. And quiet. I could not hear a thing. The only reason I knew my cousin lay beside me was because I felt her presence the same as when we’d gone to sleep.
It could have been a small pet, but, They Did Not Own any indoor pets! I did not know what the weight could be and I could not breathe because of that! I don’t know how I lived through the night because I KNOW that I was Not Breathing! I did not know what else I could do other than remain motionless.
When I woke the next morning there was nothing on my legs and everything and everyone was, like, normal!
I never went back there again!
Romance through the mists of time and Love through the dimensions of reality
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Time Travel theories
The basic concept I begin with when I conjure up a time travel romance is that it is theoretically impossible to change the past. The common belief here is that if you changed the past, then you would also change the present, which you might no longer be a part of because of the change you made in your past.
Just by their traveling, that person has already changed the fabric of time. This means their present no longer exists for them. In effect; they have traveled into a parallel universe and the original past they went to change is no longer there, either. So how can they change what they went to change? This makes for an interesting dilemma for the protagonist who has traveled into the past to save, or to kill, someone in order to change their original present.
If their goal was to save that someone, in hopes by taking that past person back to their present with them before they died, how would they do that? I’ll delve into that in a bit. For now, let’s consider if the central character went into the past to kill someone. The answer to this brings back into play the idea of there being parallel and multi-universes that exist among us, which I mentioned in brief above, and what is known as the Grandfather Paradox. Theoretically, a person could not return to his past and kill his grandfather because she/he would be killing the grandfather in the parallel universe they have traveled to, not the grandfather in their original universe.
But I don’t want send someone back in order to kill someone else. I write romance; so of course, I want to unite two potential lovers born in separate universes, if you will. Which brings us back to my original question; how will they do that? Aside from the one in the past coming forward and all the theories involving that, which is not what this blog is about, our protagonist from the future needs to be creative about getting them both back to the original future. But then again, they could be saved by the “Observer Reality” But that’s another blog.
I’m going to stop there because a return to the present is what my current work-in-progress is all about. You will have to read the book to see what happens.
Having only had a passing acquaintance with Physics during my university years, and by no means being an expert on the subject, I hope I’ve managed to relay everything I had to say here with coherence.
I believe that the human ability to time travel will one day exist. Maybe we already do have visitors here from our future. (Besides Arnold Schwarzenegger.) LOL! What do you think? Will time travel into these parallel universes ever be possible?
Romance through the mists of time and Love through the dimensions of reality
Just by their traveling, that person has already changed the fabric of time. This means their present no longer exists for them. In effect; they have traveled into a parallel universe and the original past they went to change is no longer there, either. So how can they change what they went to change? This makes for an interesting dilemma for the protagonist who has traveled into the past to save, or to kill, someone in order to change their original present.
If their goal was to save that someone, in hopes by taking that past person back to their present with them before they died, how would they do that? I’ll delve into that in a bit. For now, let’s consider if the central character went into the past to kill someone. The answer to this brings back into play the idea of there being parallel and multi-universes that exist among us, which I mentioned in brief above, and what is known as the Grandfather Paradox. Theoretically, a person could not return to his past and kill his grandfather because she/he would be killing the grandfather in the parallel universe they have traveled to, not the grandfather in their original universe.
But I don’t want send someone back in order to kill someone else. I write romance; so of course, I want to unite two potential lovers born in separate universes, if you will. Which brings us back to my original question; how will they do that? Aside from the one in the past coming forward and all the theories involving that, which is not what this blog is about, our protagonist from the future needs to be creative about getting them both back to the original future. But then again, they could be saved by the “Observer Reality” But that’s another blog.
I’m going to stop there because a return to the present is what my current work-in-progress is all about. You will have to read the book to see what happens.
Having only had a passing acquaintance with Physics during my university years, and by no means being an expert on the subject, I hope I’ve managed to relay everything I had to say here with coherence.
I believe that the human ability to time travel will one day exist. Maybe we already do have visitors here from our future. (Besides Arnold Schwarzenegger.) LOL! What do you think? Will time travel into these parallel universes ever be possible?
Romance through the mists of time and Love through the dimensions of reality
Sunday, August 1, 2010
things that go bump in the night cont.
Ghosts and ghost hunting are not the only paranormal activities I write about, but I got Ghost on the Brain during last week’s blog and so I’m back not with another experience I’ve had, but with an experience I WANT TO HAVE!
I’ve already decided on the first place I would like to hunt for ghosts! I want to visit the Deason House in Mississippi.
The Deason house was the scene of a horrible event on a rainy September afternoon during the 1860’s Civil War between the United States. It was the home of Amos Deason, and it was where the Confederacy sent Major Amos McLemore, a native of Jones County, to headquarter and capture a poor farmer named Newton Knight, one of my ancestors.
Knight dissented with the war and refused to fight in a war he did not believe in. He was drafted anyway and served, I’m assuming grudgingly, as a hospital orderly. The proverbial “last straw” finally appeared when it came to his attention that if a confederate had possession of at least 20 slaves, that he could be exempted from serving in the war. To Newton, this knowledge meant that the battle between the south and the north was a "rich man's war and a poor man's fight." (Hasn’t that same theory applied in wars since then?) At that time, Knight deserted and went home.
He and other renegades from the battle eventually grouped together and formed their rebel army base in the Green River Swamp at a place known as The Devil’s Den. (There were about 100 of them in all.) From their base they conducted raids on trains heading in and out of Mobile. I’m thinking that most probably they were confederate supply trains.
The Confederacy, meanwhile, conducted their own raids in and through the swamps in search of the deserters. Eventually the southern government sent in one of their best in knowledge of the swamps, Major Amos McLemore, who was a native of Jones County. He would be their best hope to capture the deserter band and its leader, Newton Knight. McLemore was determined to drive the deserters out of the swamp.
Most of the people in that area of the south were loyal to her and saw the deserters as criminals to whom they refused aid. The renegade’s lives were made miserable by McLemore, and Knight realized that one way or another, something had to give. He decided that McLemore had to be killed.
When Knight learned of his pursuer, the hunter became the hunted. newton knew that the major headquartered in the home of loyal Confederates, the Amos Deason home, and so decided to confront him there. On said September afternoon, after McLemore had returned from his rounds, Knight threw open the front door and shot the Confederate official where he stood in front of the fireplace. The Major died in a pool of blood.
Knight escaped into the swamp, chased by McLemore’s men. Since that day; no matter how much scrubbing was done by the house’s occupants, the stains have not been removed. After years of seeing the stains, Deason’s descendants finally covered them with new flooring. That may have solved the blood stain dilemma, but not the fact that every year on the murder’s anniversary the front door bursts open, to reveal a porch that no one stands on.
The Deason house is now an historic building that has been prepared for public viewing by the Daughters of the American Revolution and where DAR members have confessed to an uncomfortable feeling when they are there alone.
I don’t exactly enjoy saying that I am descended from a murderer, but I guess those were times when killings were a bit more common. Now, I’m not excusing his actions here, I guess he did kill someone. But me and him are from different centuries, and on the other side of the coin, you’ve heard the saying about how you can’t choose your parents? Well, you can’t exactly choose your ancestor’s, either.
My information for this blog was obtained from my sister, a talented novice genealogist, and based on a Haunted Mississippi page located at:
http://www.prairieghosts.com/deason.html
Copyright 1998 by Troy Taylor
Okay, I promise not to blog about ghosts again, for awhile. Next week I think I’ll talk to you about Time Travel theories. Another of my favorite paranormal subjects to write about!
Romance through the mists of time and Love through the dimensions of reality
I’ve already decided on the first place I would like to hunt for ghosts! I want to visit the Deason House in Mississippi.
The Deason house was the scene of a horrible event on a rainy September afternoon during the 1860’s Civil War between the United States. It was the home of Amos Deason, and it was where the Confederacy sent Major Amos McLemore, a native of Jones County, to headquarter and capture a poor farmer named Newton Knight, one of my ancestors.
Knight dissented with the war and refused to fight in a war he did not believe in. He was drafted anyway and served, I’m assuming grudgingly, as a hospital orderly. The proverbial “last straw” finally appeared when it came to his attention that if a confederate had possession of at least 20 slaves, that he could be exempted from serving in the war. To Newton, this knowledge meant that the battle between the south and the north was a "rich man's war and a poor man's fight." (Hasn’t that same theory applied in wars since then?) At that time, Knight deserted and went home.
He and other renegades from the battle eventually grouped together and formed their rebel army base in the Green River Swamp at a place known as The Devil’s Den. (There were about 100 of them in all.) From their base they conducted raids on trains heading in and out of Mobile. I’m thinking that most probably they were confederate supply trains.
The Confederacy, meanwhile, conducted their own raids in and through the swamps in search of the deserters. Eventually the southern government sent in one of their best in knowledge of the swamps, Major Amos McLemore, who was a native of Jones County. He would be their best hope to capture the deserter band and its leader, Newton Knight. McLemore was determined to drive the deserters out of the swamp.
Most of the people in that area of the south were loyal to her and saw the deserters as criminals to whom they refused aid. The renegade’s lives were made miserable by McLemore, and Knight realized that one way or another, something had to give. He decided that McLemore had to be killed.
When Knight learned of his pursuer, the hunter became the hunted. newton knew that the major headquartered in the home of loyal Confederates, the Amos Deason home, and so decided to confront him there. On said September afternoon, after McLemore had returned from his rounds, Knight threw open the front door and shot the Confederate official where he stood in front of the fireplace. The Major died in a pool of blood.
Knight escaped into the swamp, chased by McLemore’s men. Since that day; no matter how much scrubbing was done by the house’s occupants, the stains have not been removed. After years of seeing the stains, Deason’s descendants finally covered them with new flooring. That may have solved the blood stain dilemma, but not the fact that every year on the murder’s anniversary the front door bursts open, to reveal a porch that no one stands on.
The Deason house is now an historic building that has been prepared for public viewing by the Daughters of the American Revolution and where DAR members have confessed to an uncomfortable feeling when they are there alone.
I don’t exactly enjoy saying that I am descended from a murderer, but I guess those were times when killings were a bit more common. Now, I’m not excusing his actions here, I guess he did kill someone. But me and him are from different centuries, and on the other side of the coin, you’ve heard the saying about how you can’t choose your parents? Well, you can’t exactly choose your ancestor’s, either.
My information for this blog was obtained from my sister, a talented novice genealogist, and based on a Haunted Mississippi page located at:
http://www.prairieghosts.com/deason.html
Copyright 1998 by Troy Taylor
Okay, I promise not to blog about ghosts again, for awhile.
Romance through the mists of time and Love through the dimensions of reality
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