7:11 a.m. ... post from Jody Feldman

I must have some fascination with time. No explanation comes to mind. I’ve never experienced tragedies nor victories due to any timing on my part. I haven’t broken any land-speed records, not in my wildest dreams. I do, though remember, between 4th and 5th grades, shaving 4 minutes off my timed mile run time in gym class, but I can probably attribute that feat to my legs having grown and me having learned how to take advantage of their length..

Maybe it’s just hard-wiring that has me seeing how much laundry I can fold in three minutes or why I feel the need to time myself on my daily walks or why I get some pleasure when I catch a digital clock hit certain numbers. Then again, isn’t 12:36 one of the most perfect times?

But time and again (coincidental phrasing not originally intended), it so happens that time has played some major roles in my books. That’s not surprising in The Gollywhopper Games books, which feature competitions. But I’ve also structure some ticking clocks in The Seventh Level, where my main character must follow instructions to potentially get into his middle school’s secret society.

Then there are my works-in-progress. I’m working on two of them simultaneously. (I do not suggest it. And yes, I could’ve brought you a whole different entry on time management.) But when I started writing this, I realized that both books do, indeed, play with elements of time, very differently, but in ways essential to each character’s journey.

And this all got me wondering why. What is this fascination? Maybe Dr. Freud might’ve had some theories. Maybe it would all come to light under hypnosis. Maybe if I questioned my family, old friends, former neighborhood kids, they might remember something I just can’t right now. But you know what? I’m not sure that it matters. Besides, I don’t have the time.