Out of the MIND of Babes (I was so cute)

or,
Why It Was Fated I Become a Writer of Futuristic Fiction
by Lory Kaufman
23 September 2011

When children are young, there are often indications of what they will become as adults. An incident from my very early childhood came to mind the other week, which showed such a thing about myself. But the connection between that memory and what I am doing now never twigged. Let me tell you about it.

It was about 1954, sometime during the winter in Toronto, Canada. I was 3 or 4 years old. My teenage cousin, Marlene, put me on a sleigh and pulled me down Brunswick Avenue, which is a very long street, and then took me all around the block. It probably took close to half an hour.

When we got back to my home, at 484 Brunswick, my childish brain had a very strange thought, and I was actually frightened. I think that’s probably why I remember this so vividly. I saw my house and thought, ‘This looks like my house, but I’ve gone all around the block and maybe this really isn’t my house now. The people inside, my mother and father, sister, my grandmother and aunt. I bet they’re not the really the same people, even though they look the same.’ And when Marlene took me inside and my mother picked me up, I looked at her very intently, almost angrily, looking for some sign of . . . alienness?”

As an adult who writes futuristic fiction, my stories include time travel and, in my upcoming book, The Bronze and the Brimstone, alternate universes. And, back in the 1960’s, when I began to read, watch television and go to movies, I gravitated to science fiction and spiritual themes. But when I had this sleigh-ride experience, we didn’t have a television yet and my family didn’t read those types of things.

So, how in the heck did such fantastical thoughts get into the head of a young child? There are only two conclusions. Either my fertile dyslectic and ADD mind was starting to do its ‘thing’, or . . . somewhere on that sleigh ride around the block, we crossed through an inter-dimensional portal and I was raised by parents other than my own. Actually that would explain quite a lot.

Lory Kaufman
Kingston, Canada