| || Mysterious Island |
adapted by Cameron Larson
First release: 11 Feb 2012
I wonder whether all eigthteen of the executive producers (yes, I counted them) of this movie were sitting around (maybe in a hot air balloon with no burner), trying to come up with a movie idea.
“Let’s do a movie of Lost,” said one. “It’s a big hit.”
“No, we can’t do Lost,” said another. “We don’t have the rights.’
“Then let’s find some old sci-fi thing—you know, by one of those old French guys—and rewrite it so that it’s like Lost with time travel.”
“Wait, didn’t Lost have time travel?”
“Maybe, but not with Civil War dudes and hot chicks in a crashed plane.”
Well honestly, to me ma’am, it looked like a flying locomotive.
| || “Twember” |
by Steve Rasnic Tem
First publication: Interzone, Mar/Apr 2012
On the plains of eastern Colorado, Will Cotton and his family deal resignedly with the great escarpments sweeping through the world, like the wall of an enormous time-al wave, lifting artifacts and flashes of people from one era to another in a way that is a metaphor for shifting perspectives as you age.
Steve Rasnic Tem and his wife Melanie were the writers-in-residence at the 2014 Odyssey Writers Workshop which I attended with many wonderful students and two remarkable writers-in-residence. Melanie died the following spring, and we all miss her wisdom and kindness greatly.
Trapped in most of these layers were visible figures—some of them blurred, but some of them so clear and vivid that when they were looking in his direction, as if from a wide window in the side of a building, he attempted to gain their attention by waving. None responded in any definitive way, although here and there the possibility that they might have seen him certainly seemed to be there.
The vast majority of these figures appeared to be ordinary people engaged in ordinary activities—fixing or eating dinner, housecleaning, working in offices, factories, on farms—but occasionally he’d see something indicating that an unusual event was occurring or had recently occurred. A man lying on his back, people gathered around, some attending to the fallen figure but most bearing witness. A couple being chased by a crowd. A woman in obvious anguish, screaming in a foreign language. A blurred figure in freefall from a tall building.
| || “My Wife Hates Time Travel” |
by Adam-Troy Castro
First publication: Lightspeed, Sep 2012
When a not-so-brilliant man and his similarly equipped wife find out that one of them is destined to invent time travel, they end up continuously fighting, not the least cause of which is their future selves popping in all the time, intent on informing them that they should do this and not that.
Being the future inventors of time travel wasn’t all bad, of course. It was great to know that we’d never lose anything, never go to a movie that turned out to be a stinker, never buy a book we wouldn’t want to finish, never go out to a restaurant where the service was lousy, and never get stuck in a traffic jam, because we’d always be warned away, beforehand. It was terrific to have some future version of myself pop in just as I was about to irritate my wife with some inconsiderate comment and tell me, “It would be a really bad idea to say that.”