From: gertz@bilge.ece.cmu.edu (Matthew Wayne Gertz)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.startrek
Subject: The Writer's Dilemna (semi-parody)


        In the spirit of "Ten Ways To Bring Back Tasha Yar," here's another
(shorter) item along a similar vein.  Enjoy it (or not).  Oh, yeah, this is
copyrighted, except the stuff I stole.
As before, I've snuck in a some other TV shows (only two, this time, alas).
These ones should be easy to figure out, though.  (I was bored enough to
write, but not motivated enough to work hard at it.)
        The intro below is semi-true, although the actual rejection letter
from a certain unnamed sf magazine was not *quite* as rude.  It did give me
a good idea for a short parody, though...

===========

        *Sigh*   Another rejection notice from "Ichabod Amazon's Science
Fiction Magazine."  I don't think I'm ever going to get a science fiction
story sold.
        I mean, what has a guy got to do to sell a story?  Hey, I thought it
was a good story:  lots of deep, insightful thoughts, super-intelligent
computers, mysterious long-lived beings.  Hmm, let's see what the rejection
slip says:

                "Dear Mr. Gertz,
                     "We enjoyed very much your latest attempt to plow
                your way into the writing field, 'I'm Going To Blow Up
                The Moon, Marge.'  In fact, we laughed our asses off at
                your cretinous attempt to get published.  You can't
                write, you can't spell, and you always steal plots from
                other stories.  Drop dead.

                        "Sincerely,
                                "The Editors of Ichabod Amazon's Science
                                        Fiction Magazine."

                "P.S.  Your subscription is running out, would you care to
                renew?"

        Steal plots?  STEAL PLOTS?  ME?  How insulting!
        Well, it's obviously that I won't be able to get my own work
published until I get a foot in the door.  How to do this... hmm, let's see,
let's see...  AHA!
        I will write a Star Trek novel!
        Yes, yes, it will be soooo easy.  Anybody can write a Star Trek
novel, and make a quick buck.  I mean, if people will buy "Shadow Lord,"
they'll buy anything.  Yep.
        Let's see, I can plan the pivitol scene now:

        "Captain, I'm... worried about Data."  The half-Betazoid counselor
Deanna Troi made no attempt to hide her concern from Picard.
        "Data?  What's the matter with Data?"  Normally, Picard would have
waved away any concern about his android officer.  However, he himself had
been noticing the odd behavior Data had been exhibiting lately.
        Troi folded her hands together, not knowing exactly how to begin.
"If I didn't know better, sir, I'd say that Data was suffering from an
almost human emotional breakdown."
        "Emotional breakdown?"
        "Well, he has been under a lot of strain over the past year.  He
lost his daughter and his father, his evil twin is still on the loose,
carrying Data's "feelings" chip around, and his experience with human love
was a failure."
        Picard was almost annoyed.  "Counselor, Data is an android, and is
incapable of emotion.  He cannot be having an emotional breakdown."
        "I know, I know, sir, it's just that... he's *changed* a lot in the
past few days, and I..."
        Worf's voice crackled over the intercom.  "Security to Captain
Picard."
        "Picard here, go ahead."
        "Captain, we are picking up a disturbance in Commander Data's
quarters."
        "I'm on my way.  Meet me there.  Picard out."  Picard rushed out of
his ready room, Troi right on his heels.
        A minute later, they arrived at Data's quarters.  "Override the
lock," ordered Picard to Worf.  The door opened, and a cat ran out of Data's
room.  Worf entered first, followed by Picard.
        "I don't see... wait, he's in the bathroom, sir!"
        Picard knocked on the door.  "Mr. Data?  Open up, Data!  Are you all
right?"
        In the bathroom, Data was staring at a cracked mirror, lubricant
running down from a cut in his forehead.  "How's Jenna?" he cackled to the
image in the mirror, which was not his own.  "How's Jenna?  Ha ha ha!  How's
Jenna!  How's Jenna how's Jenna how's Jenna..."

        *sigh*  Crumple it up, toss it in the wastepaper basket.
        Two points.... No!  Off the rim.  Damn.
        Maybe I shouldn't work with the TNG characters.  Maybe I should try
the originals:  Kirk, Spock, McCoy.  Everybody likes them.  I can have more
emotional conflicts that way.

        "Captain Kirk, I cannot emphasize enough the importance of this
mission.  The entire fate of the Federation rests in your hands.  We're
counting on you."  On the viewscreen, Admiral Komack folded his hands on his
desk and waited for Kirk's response.  Behind him, an aide in an 18th century
butler's outfit and a black pony-tailed wig dropped a tablet on his desk to be
signed.
        Kirk's eyes looked grim.  "Admiral, I must protest."
        "I beg your pardon, *Captain*?"
        "Sir, we original characters hardly get any exposure anymore.  We
don't need any distractions when we do finally get a good story.  And I am
SICK! AND! TIRED!"  he pounded his fist into the arm of his chair, "of
characters popping into these books who don't belong here.  Whatever
happened to loyalty?  Decency?  Those things on which the Federation was
founded!  This is NOT a Diane Duane novel, sir, nor did Barbara Hambly write
it.  I WILL! NOT! ACCEPT! that Edmund Blackadder is your aide...


        Arrgh!
        Okay, TOS characters are too emotional.  I get carried away.  Calm
down, calm down...
        Say, wouldn't it be funny if the r.a.s.'ers had TNG personalities:

Lynch:    Boy, I like Star Trek.
Rawdon:   Hey, me too.
Atsushi:  But I feel that I should point out that Star Trek is a great show.
Shabang:  A big 10.0 on the Shabang-o-meter!
Kelsey:   Which episode?
Shabang:  All of them!
Atsushi:  Of course, ST:TOS is better than TNG.
Lynch:    And TNG is better than TOS.
Lynch and Atsushi:  Of course!
Heuer:    But Star Trek in general is just great.
David:    As a writer I would just like to say that Star Trek is really really
          neat.
Dennison: Truer words have never been spoken.
Bruno:    Well, I don't know, I didn't like "The Minds Eye."
Rawdon:   Hey!  Are you trying to start an argument?  We'll have none of that
          here on r.a.s!
Bruno:    Sorry.  I shouldn't have spoken so harshly.  You're right, Star
          Trek is cool.
All:      Hear, hear!

        That's silly.  They don't even sound anything like the personalities
of the real r.a.s.'ers (except for Shabang).  Besides, I'd accidently leave a
r.a.s.god out (like G.T. Quirk), and then where would I be?  An ostracized
ex-r.a.s.demigod.
        Hey!  I could explore the relationship between Riker and Troi more.
I've always been curious about it.  I mean, it's sort of on-again, off-again:

RIKER:  Admit it, you're still crazy about me!
TROI:   Am not!
RIKER:  Am so!
TROI:   Am not!  (Throws shoe at Riker.)
RIKER:  (ducking shoe)  Sure you are, just ask them!
TROI:   Them who?
RIKER:  Them them!
TROI:   Them them?
RIKER:  Them them! (stands on Troi's desk, points at camera)
TROI:   The viewers?  Are we allowed to do that?
RIKER:  Sure, why not?
TROI:   Why not? (puzzled)
RIKER:  Why not! (has really stupid grin on face)
TROI:   (shrugging)  Why not?
RIKER:  After all, a bear's a bear, a bee's a bee...

        NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!  Why does it have to be so hard?  All I want is a
little extra cash from a job on the side... (hmm, that was a joke.  Will
anyone get it, I wonder)
        Maybe the Ichabod Amazon editors are right.  Maybe I'm just not cut
out for writing prose... Hey, I could do comic books!

        FIRST FRAME:  CLARK KENT standing, LOIS LANE sitting.  CLARK:  "That's
a DAMN GOOD cup of coffee... and HOT!"
--

--Matt Gertz--*
  gertz@bilge.ece.cmu.edu