In Other Worlds

by

Anne Michael

This past week I was obliged to work in Orlando at the training center my company has there. The ride is about a three-hour jaunt from my house. In the 16 plus years I’ve lived in Florida, I’ve driven through Orlando—and one time I even stopped for gasoline on the way to the east side of the state but I’ve never driven to Orlando, never visited the House of Mouse. This trip was no exception. Once again I drove through the city without stopping.

When my kids were growing up, Disney World was a place they all wanted to go and I did, as well. There is a part of me that has never quite grown up. Back in those days, I worked three jobs to support my brood and me so seeing Mickey, Minnie and all the Disney gang was a far off dream costing far more than I could afford. The five of us would imagine what it would be like to go there, and we envisioned driving there in a limousine from the airport in fine style.

Years went by as they are inclined to do, and when one is busy living life, they tend to fly by pretty quickly. My kids and I moved to Florida when my children were in their teens. They saw Disney World several times, but their visits were not in the family group we had envisioned. Instead, they visited it with the friends they made.

It is an interesting drive to Orlando despite the fact I don’t enjoy driving I-4, a miserable road, although it has been improved to accommodate more of the burgeoning traffic that the influx of people, both permanent and tourist, bring. That road provides an “other worldly” experience. Huge utility poles that carry the high voltage wires to the city of Orlando are shaped like Mickey Mouse, and billboards provide entertaining “speed reading.” Signs and off-ramps take potential visitors to specific attractions such as Epcot, The Magic Kingdom and Universal. Other signs directt the weary traveler to supposedly wonderful places to lay one’s head for the night and even better places to eat. At one point I saw a sign that advised anyone with any interest to “enjoy the Holy Land Experience.” Because of it, I kept waiting for an enormous church to appear on the horizon, some cathedral-like facility that would provide that experience. It never materialized, and it was not until I came out the other side of Orlando that I realized it was one of the theme park attractions. I was both amazed and appalled. I am not a religious person, but the concept of pretending to walk in a place revered by religious people of all denominations while foods of those places are hawked, souvenirs are sold and a roller coaster looped up and over Golgotha or the Wailing Wall turned into a climbing wall prompted nausea and disgust. It also killed any interest I may have had of spending my hard-earned shekels in a place that has become a world other than the one Walt Disney envisioned.

As is my custom when I travel my suitcase contained a couple of books for after-work reading. The days proved so long and arduous that at the end I chose the intriguing and fun book Finity by John Barnes, “a novel of many worlds” according to the cover. I could hardly wait to start it, and when I did I could barely stand to put it down. I read it every spare moment I could stay awake. The utter satisfaction I had when I arrived at the end was pure bliss. It’s rare that a book feels like the perfect meal but this one did. It was out-of-this-world-wonderful!

I adore sci-fi/fantasy books, but I had never read anything by Barnes before. It turned out to be an extraordinary experience. Barnes is a master at bringing the reader into the tale. I pictured the author in my head as a giant spider at his typewriter drawing me slowly and steadily and compellingly into the verbal web he had woven. Like the spider’s prey, I was snagged, hopeless wriggling in the gossamer reality of the words.

The main character, Lyle Peripart was likable, not overly macho but not a total weenie either. He mimicked the sort of person I could actually meet in my own life, although is adventures were beyond the realm of everyday experiences. With dry mouth and sometimes bated breath, I read to the end. I was transported. When the last word was read and my heart rate slowed and the muscles held so tightly finally relaxed, I found myself rejuvenated and satisfied. What clinched this book for me was the way Barnes returned the characters who survived the epic battle to their usual lives, but they didn’t just pick up where they left off, retrieving their dry cleaning or having lunch. Instead, he gave the characters choices to make taking the reader full circle.

I remember watching an episode of the Disneyland television program when I was far younger in which Walt Disney explained how the animation and drawings the artists at his studio did made the “implausible seem possible.” It is a phrase that has stayed in my head for years. What made Finity so good was that Barnes has a way of drawing pictures in my head that made the absolutely implausible seem somehow possible and not other worldly as Orlando’s Holy Land did. Mr. Barnes was able to accomplish with Finity what Mr. Disney did with Snow White and the rest of the Disney stable of characters. If you are a fan of science fiction you will enjoy this book. I highly recommend it. And it costs far less than a trip to Orlando.


At age 10, Anne realized she was never going to get to be Miss America since reading a book was not an acceptable talent. So she went on to get a job and raise a family. Along the way, she fixed meals, picked up toys, helped with homework, and collected a drawer full of rejection slips for her “great American novel.” It was not all bad, however, since she ended up wallpapering a closet with them. She currently designs and creates greeting cards for her tiny company, The Frog Prints, LLC, and also works full-time as a Training Specialist. Anne is currently tethered to reality by a loving spouse, two dogs, one cat and the occasional hurricane that blows through Florida, although falling headlong and happily into a book is still her favorite “talent.” She can be reached at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it