The Time Between

But what minutes! Count them by sensation, and not by calendars, and each moment is a day. ~Benjamin Disraeli

As a writer, one of the of skills I find the most fascinating is an author's ability to account for the non-linear aspects of time. Talented writers can express this through flash-backs, through moving in multiple directions of a character's imagination or simply by writing with the fluidity of ocean currents, moving from one time to another. Not long ago, I read that "time is linear, but human behavior is circular". Moving between times in a character's life, or moving between characters living at different points in history, is an intriguing method in story telling. As time becomes less fixed and more movable, the characters can relate to one another, and the story can be told, by unwrapping each layer of scarf covering the singular core of the protagonist. As time becomes less of a fixed point in the literary horizon, the author is free to explore what actions happened before she came on the scene, as well as to look ahead as to the ramifications of an action years later. These perspectives can tell a story more deeply, while not boring the reader with dull facts about 'what happened before'.

Two books that used this concept with artistry and finesse are "Labor Day" by Joyce Maynard and "Dreaming in French" by Megan McAndrew. Both of these brilliant, insightful novels revolve around a young adolescent, struggling to come to terms with their own lives 'in between' childhood and adulthood, while still dealing with life changing events that forever bind their existence into a time 'before' and 'after'. The central story in the novels themselves can be looked as the "time in between"...the days during which everything changed. Yet, both of these extraordinary stories use time in a non-linear fashion; to help the authors to give background information that isn't dull, but is exceptionally relevant. Both novels explore the deep seated feelings of not belonging, of wanting one's parents to be 'normal' and of being uncertain of one's place in an increasingly adult world. Both of these stories tell, in the eyes of dramatically different main characters, the impact of feeling out of place, of not being a child any longer, but also not being ready for adulthood. These novels accomplish the feat of combining innocence with unyielding knowledge, of being equally balanced between a character's intelligence and inexperience. Both are gifts of instinctual genius....to capture the minds, thoughts, deliberations and allowances of the 13 year old mind during exceptional circumstances. I couldn't put either book down once I began reading.

The time in between childhood and adulthood seems to go on forever, when a person is young. I remember being 13 and feeling desperate to be 16. Then, at 16, I was desperate to be 18. I can materialize my adolescent self and feel her frustration, her joys, her insecurities, her gifts and her fears. I can conjure her up with a photograph, and want to look into her eyes, admonishing her to cherish every moment of youth, encouraging her not to cry over boys who will be forgotten or slights that will vanish. I want to whisper to her the secret of "you may want to move on right now...you may not like the way you look or the way your life is, but there will come a time that you would do anything for five minutes back in these shoes....". I want to give young Ellen a hug, make her a cup of tea, and without giving away too much of the adventure that lies ahead, assuring her that all will not only be well....it will be far better than well. I wish I could allow young Ellen to relax, to breathe and to imprint every single moment of youth on herself so that I could better recall it with clarity now. I would like her to see that her life will not be over when she sees the first gray hair, that her hopes and dreams will far surpass anything she could imagined for herself and that time itself will become her friend and companion. Time becomes one's medicine to help get over loss, one's ally in making choices and one's vault in which to bank one's precious memories.

I would also like to encourage my younger self not to discount the memories of older people. As a child and a young teen, I remember listening to the stories of my grandmother and great-aunts as they recalled their childhoods growing up in Winnipeg, Manitoba. It seemed to always be cold. It appeared as if everyone was always fighting, and that there was never enough money. Beyond that, I simply didn't listen. I would hear the same grievances rolled out every year, and the same grudges being held from infractions that occurred when they were my own age. I simply didn't listen with the rapt attention to the stories of our family because I thought these retellings, these hashings over and these tribulations were "boring" and "done". What I failed to realize was that my grandmother's recollections of her own adolescence were windows into the universal spirit of all coming of age stories. I wish I'd understood that within these squabbles lay buried family histories I'd never come to explain or perceive. In Grandma's own 'time between' would lie the answers to my own. I was even given the gift of non-linear time to explore and to enrich, but I wasn't ready to use the gift when it was presented to me.

"The time between" is an alluring concept to deduce. It can be a literary device. It can be a way of explaining moments that seem to stand out between two fixed points. It can also be a way to comprehend those times in a person's life in which she feels suspended between two sides of bridge. Underneath the bridge appears a bottomless chasm. On one side is the familiar, the known and the learned. But that side has begun to crumble and we have no choice but to cross the rickety, shaky bridge ahead. What is on the far side is shrouded in mist and we can't see ahead. Yet, we press, carefully, tentatively pressing on with each step, and hoping the sun will break through the fog that lies ahead.

If you happen to peer into the clouds and see what awaits, find a hush within yourself....and ask questions. You never know what the answers will be. I'm sure they will surprise you.