Time Meddlers Announcement

Time Meddlers

Deborah Jackson

Dear Time Meddlers fans,

I’ve come to a decision. It’s not fair to make you wait two, three years to read the third Time Meddlers book when you’ve been thoroughly engrossed in the adventure. That is the reality of finding a new publisher (minimum).

Time Meddlers Undercover

Deborah Jackson

So . . . I’m going to self-publish all three books for the time being, in both electronic and print format. I’ll do my best to deliver the books to the most accessible retailers, and I’m even engaging an artist to make these books more visually appealing than they were through the previous publisher. I’m also revising the first book entirely to match the other two in writing quality and dynamism. This will take some time, but hopefully by the end of the summer I can release all three :)

Chapter 1

Cretaceous Park

 

           

Sarah parted the leaves of the gigantic fern and peered out at the riverbank. Directly in front of her, a duckbill dinosaur dipped its muzzle into the water for a drink. Sarah glanced back at Matt, who was being far too noisy, rustling leaves and crackling dead branches beneath his feet.

Matt,” Sarah squeaked. She pushed him down as the duckbill raised its head and examined them suspiciously.

“It’s okay, Sarah. It’s only a plant-eater.”

“A plant-eater that’s big enough to crush you with its feet, or one swipe of its tail. This is crazy. What are we doing?”

“My dad is here, just past that clump of trees. I’m sure of it.” Matt pointed to a spot in the forest congested with cypress and palm trees.

“Right,” said Sarah. “It looks like the Everglades, but it sure isn’t. Why couldn’t we rescue your father in a safer time period?”

She couldn’t believe he had roped her into another mad adventure, not in a war this time, but in the Alberta badlands sixty million years in the past.

Read the remainder of Time Meddlers on the Nile Chapter One.

Chapter 2

Time Disruption

 

Matt stood at the entrance to the lab building, trying to comprehend. If he thrust even the tip of his finger through the partition, it seemed to disassemble. Beyond the door all he could see was uninterrupted forest – not a building in sight. What had happened? Had time been altered in such a way that North American civilization didn’t exist anymore, that they didn’t exist? No, it couldn’t be. But why couldn’t they leave the lab building?

“Matt, do you have any idea . . . ?” Sarah’s voice seemed small and lost. Why shouldn’t it be? This was impossible, wasn’t it?

“I don’t know. Something to do with the time machine, I think.”

“It would have to be. No earthquake or bomb could do this. This building, we’d be wiped out too, and there’s nothing left out there.”

“Not a building. Not a house,” Matt agreed.

Read the remainder of Time Meddlers on the Nile Chapter Two.

Images and Text Copyright © J. Jackson/Deborah Jackson

Comiccon is Trending

You understand that in order to write sci-fi, even “serious” sci-fi, you must first be a Trekkie, and perhaps a Star Wars fan too. No, I've never been to Comiccon before. Comics aren’t my thing, but when Shatner comes to town and you have an opportunity, well...you must...see...The Shatner.

The morning began this way.

My husband and I bounced out of bed. My son dragged his sleep-drugged hormone-infested 15-year-old body from beneath the covers an hour later. My daughter was still comatose. So I sent her a text:

Time to get up.

And again two minutes later.

Time to get up.

And two minutes later.

Are you up yet?

Yah.

The Shatner awaits.

So she got up, 20 minutes later.

Then we were off. We drove into the fairly ginormous lot of the CE building, found a parking spot—a good sign—and joined this line.

This is what 12,000 people in a line-up looks like. But we didn’t realize it snaked around the building, zigzagged and looped back again. As we turned the corner and discovered how long the line really was, a look of astonishment and disgust flashed onto our faces. Then, after we zigzagged and looped back, the next group of people turned the corner, with looks of astonishment and disgust. This time we laughed, 'cause we were in the home stretch, baby.

The home stretch took an hour longer, but we weren't bored. It gave us a chance to gawk at all the spectacular and sometimes lame costumes.

Finally we entered the zoo door.

Got it, got it, want it. Actually don’t have any at all.

We stopped by the Star Wars booth. They were too busy fighting the dark side and intergalactic wars to bother with us.

But they were cute.

Eventually I became caught up in the purpose of the event: celebrity-worship. Not every day you get to see Elvira.

Or Q.

Or the Delorian. You can worship a car too.

I apologize for the crappy photos, but you must understand how hard it was to even get close to a car with 12,000 people batting you out of the way (or at least jostling). And the resolution on this camera was bloody awful.

Back to celebrities: Even Starsky and Hutch made an appearance. Not. But their car did. It looked appropriately battered, so I think it was the real deal.

But no Shatner.

After browsing and gawking for a good hour or two, we headed over to the panels.

Marina Sirtis was giving a speech and I thought, what the hay, let's see if she can provide us with some insight into the inner workings of the Enterprise, and Wesley Crusher (not that we cared) (about Wesley Crusher). Little did we know . . .

. . . she'd be the highlight of our visit. Deanna Troi is the wimpiest, dullest character in the Star Trek series. But on that little stage she shone, and did her best to disparage The Shatner. How dare... you disparage...The Shatner. Undoubtedly she'd been a comedian in another life, or on another planet. We heard stories of her delight at finally getting to "drive the ship" in Generations, until she actually read the script and discovered she crashes the ship, not once, but twice, and in another instance how she endured The Wrath of the Director and Crew when she refused to sit on burning embers in the captain's chair after an explosion and forced them to spend six hours reconstructing the set; this lady had us in stitches.

Did we actually get to see The Shatner, though? No. While Marina blessed us with her stand-up routine, Shatner breezed in, signed 300-400 autographs at $75 a pop, and breezed out again. He also gave a speech, but I wasn’t tackling that line which extended nearly as far as the original five kilometres we slogged through to get in. Honestly, Marina upstaged the man entirely, so we didn’t miss a thing.

And we got to see him . . .

It's the Star Trek bear. Don't you recognize him from Episode ?

But we did worry we wouldn't be allowed to leave, because, you know . . .

Besides being a total blast, Comiccon triggered some nostalgia. My husband and I remembered our Star Trek years, and how our daughter adored the Star Trek theme song. I’ll show you how much . . .

And there you have it. They do start young, don’t they? Can't resist the call of the Enterprise. To boldly go where no one . . .

Live long and prosper, my fellow Trekkies.