If time travel were possible, what would you do with it?
That’s the question that keeps time travel so popular in fiction. On the one hand, we’d love to do something “big” like go back to Dallas in 1963 and stop President Kennedy from being assassinated—or even further back and keep Lincoln from being murdered.
Or maybe we have a desire that’s closer to home, but not so big on the world stage. Stop the bullet that killed our great-uncle in WWII, or place a bet on a long-shot sporting event.
Maybe I’d just like to travel back in time and ask out that girl in high school I never had the nerve to ask out. She might say yes or she might say no, but I could finally ditch thirty years of wondering, “What if?”
The hurtful words spoken, the cheerful words left unsaid, we all have things we would like to re-do if only it were possible. In spite of those guys who claim to have proof that neutrinos can travel through time, we’re pretty sure we never will get to. So the closest we can come is through time travel fiction.
I think that’s why my Garison Fitch novels are so popular on Kindle and Nook. And the stories of “Edward & Marianne” to a lesser extent, maybe, because they travel to the future. There’s some appeal there, too, because we would like to get to a future where the problems of today no longer exist. Or, if they do, there’s some comfort in knowing that our troubles are no unique to us.
It’s been said before that all fiction is time travel, taking us to a time and place—and into events—that might have never really taken place. And even if the place we’re taken to is horrid or bleak, there’s a place for that kind of story because we get to come back out of that world and into our own—which may not be perfect, but at least it doesn’t have whatever horror was in the place we just visited.
Ready to go somewhere else? Somewhen else? Then click on the “Library/Store” link and travel through time to alternate histories, true histories, and histories of the future!