Continuing my weekly fan fiction series, “Star Trek: The Clearer Path” was written in September 1998 as a sequel to my very first classic Star Trek story, “A Passion For Peace” (which I posted last week).
Click here to read Part One of “Star Trek: The Clearer Path.”
Earlier this year, I took the time to transfer my old fan fiction stories (aka “fan fic”) to Google Drive and, as expected, nostalgia inspired me to reread many of them and reminisce about what I consider my “training ground” as a writer. Are these stories perfect? Of course not. I was still getting my storytelling legs under me, but I recall how much fun and enthusiasm went into penning every one of them.
Beginning in the late 1980s and running through 2002, I wrote about 25 short stories set in the universes of Star Trek, Star Wars, Indiana Jones, and others. Unfortunately, I only managed to save about 16 of those stories digitally. First on floppy disks, then a Zip disk, then a CD, and now on my laptop and Google Drive.
Inspired by writer pal and publisher, Steven H. Wilson—who recently began Fan Fiction Fridays on his blog—I thought I’d take this summer to share at least some of my fan fic, beginning with a contest entry I wrote in July 1995 called “Star Trek: A Passion For Peace.”
I hope to post a new story each week to be found under the Free Fiction! menu above. I hope you enjoy these stories.
It’s always an honor and a pleasure to welcome Howard Weinstein, New York Times bestselling author of the new historical novel GALLOWAY’S GAMBLE (releasing September 20, 2017).
Howie, as we call him, has had a long and enviable writing career that includes scores of novels and comic books in the Star Trek universe, three novels from the original V television series, a bio of baseball legend Mickey Mantle, and Puppy Kisses are Good for the Soul, the true story of Howie’s journey to become a professional dog trainer inspired by his adorable Welsh Corgi known as Mail Order Annie.
Howie became a professional writer at age 19, when he sold a script called “The Pirates of Orion” episode to NBC’s Emmy-winning animated Star Trek television series in 1974—while still a college student at the University of Connecticut.
Today, he’s here to chat about research, credibility, and how to avoid being overzealous when including facts in your fiction. Take it away, Howie!
In fiction, details convey credibility—but can there be too much detail? Personally—as both a reader and writer—I say yes. Not all details are created equal.
Take MOBY DICK (please!). Like most of us, I read “The Great American Novel” in school. Like most of us, I recall little beyond “Call me Ishmael.” What I do remember is more from the abridged but vivid 1956 movie (starring Gregory Peck as Captain Ahab). Like most of us, I never read the book again.
But my friend Ross Lally did. His impression: Herman Melville wrote two books—one about Ahab’s obsessive pursuit of the white whale, the other a 19th-century whaling text—and smooshed them together. So the plot literally sails along, until—bang!—long detours about whales and whaling. Even done seamlessly, would less have been more?
Prepping for my first historical novel, GALLOWAY’S GAMBLE (Five Star Publishing, September 2017), I did 6 months of research into the time period (1845-1875)—collecting waaay more detail than I could (or should) ever use. To whittle down that bounty, I asked 2 questions:
1) What would my characters know?
2) What does a reader need to know?
I think fiction has more impact and intimacy when readers see through the eyes of characters, not authors. It’s not the writer’s job to dazzle with vast amounts of scintillating research—just because you found it doesn’t mean you have to use it! Details should be included if they either orient a reader in time and place; or illuminate characters’ lives by affecting what they do, and how and why they do it. 
For instance: I knew very little about 19th century firearms. So I learned a lot—and discarded most of it. The risk of writing “gear porn”—lovingly-excruciating but ultimately incidental minutiae on a given topic—is that readers who already know it don’t need it, and readers who don’t know probably don’t care, especially if the digression bogs down the story. For my story, when it came to guns, I chose a few things that mattered. The typical six-shooter popular in western movies and TV wasn’t even available until after 1873. Civil War-era black-powder revolvers didn’t use the familiar, pre-made metallic-cartridge ammunition, so they were slow and finicky to load. Repeating rifles weren’t widely available until post-Civil War; the single-shot muzzle-loader muskets used by both sides required soldiers to stand up in order to reload—less than ideal in battle. And the gunpowder of the time produced a great deal of smelly smoke.
I used those facts because they shaped the story. My narrator Jamey Galloway has a visceral wariness of firearms, and questions the wisdom of standing up to reload a musket when you’re being shot at by the enemy. His older brother Jake is a marksman adept with weapons. And all that musket fire could turn even a minor skirmish into smoke-blind chaos. The details I chose sculpted the characters, in turn influencing their actions (and attitudes) that forged the story.
So, what’s the lesson for writers? A selective dash of the right details can season your recipe—but a deluge can spoil the broth.
A lost journal by Doctor John H. Watson—discovered by Nick Meyer’s uncle in the attic of a home in Hampshire, England—tells the tale of Watson’s desperation to permanently exorcise Sherlock Holmes of the demons of cocaine addiction. In seeking advice from a fellow physician, Watson learns of the unorthodox methods of a Viennese psychiatrist.
Meanwhile, Holmes has been spending his days and nights in the dogged pursuit and general stalking of Professor James Moriarty, the “Napoleon of crime!” as the famous detective has come to consider him. Surely, the fiend is up to something and must be stopped.
For his part, Moriarty, a humble math professor, has no idea why Holmes is shadowing him and implores the assistance of Watson who believes the genteel man to be honest. Together with Sherlock’s older brother, Mycroft, Watson convinces a reluctant Moriarty to travel to Vienna hoping that Sherlock will follow.
The plan works perfectly, and Watson “guides” Holmes to the residence of Doctor Sigmund Freud where both physicians attempt to rehabilitate the master detective and cure him of his hideous addiction through hypnosis. Needless to say, Holmes’s withdrawal and convalescence are torturous to both himself and Watson.
At the same time, a young catatonic woman is brought into the local hospital and Freud is summoned to look in on her. Holmes and Watson decide to join him. Freud again employs hypnosis to discover that the woman is actually Nancy Slater, the American widow of the late Baron von Leinsdorf and had spent her honeymoon in an attic!
Holmes, as usual, applies his extraordinary powers of observation to determine, based on her physical condition, that the Baroness had been abducted, bound, and imprisoned in an attic somewhere near the river among closely constructed factories and warehouses.
From here the game is—as Holmes would say—afoot as our intrepid trio attempts to solve this nefarious crime.
I’d first read The Seven Per-Cent Solution over 15 years ago, but no longer had my copy. I was fortunate to meet Nicholas Meyer at the Farpoint convention in February 2017 wherein I purchased a newer edition and had it signed. Meyer is, of course, the direct
or of many excellent films including Time After Time, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, and Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country. He also co-wrote those Star Trek films along with Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home. He also wrote the screenplay based on the novel I am currently discussing.
The Seven Per-Cent Solution is a thoroughly enjoyable read that felt like a solid Sherlock Holmes tale. Narrative, pace, and dialog were mostly faithful to Doyle’s work, and a young Sigmund Freud was represented in a way that honored his reputation and abilities.
I enjoyed this memoir from beginning to end, even though I’d already heard, seen, or read about 60% of it from other sources such as Leonard Nimoy’s own memoirs (I Am Not Spock, then later, I Am Spock), interviews with Nimoy over the years, and the recent documentary, For the Love of Spock, directed by Adam Nimoy. Much of Nimoy’s television and early film career is covered and often compared to Shatner’s own.
It was that other 40% that piqued my interest such as the depth of Nimoy’s love for the written word through his poetry and how he had come to love photography. These are parts of Nimoy’s creative career with which I was only superficially familiar. It pains me to admit that I’ve never read his poetry and have only seen a small subset of his photographs, but after reading Shatner’s memoir, I’m inspired to action and will make the time to delve more into these aspects of Nimoy’s art.
No memoir about Leonard Nimoy would be complete without mentioning his love for the stage and his brilliant performances in Fiddler on the Roof and his one man show, Vincent, about the life and work of Van Gogh. Shatner also touched on the enormous charitable donations made by Leonard and his wife Susan to theatres in New York as well as the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles.
To his credit, Shatner was honest about his conflicts with Nimoy and Roddenberry in the early months of Star Trek and the reasons behind that. He also expressed great disappointment and sadness that Nimoy had stopped speaking to him in the weeks before his passing. All of that, and Shatner’s brotherly love for Nimoy, shined through as truly genuine and heartfelt.
Star Wars caught me at the tender age of six back in 1977 and has never let go. I remain a fan and collector to this day. I had the pleasure of meeting Carrie Fisher, for the first and only time, at a comic con in New York City about 10 years ago. While waiting in her autograph line, a lady ahead of me began a conversation with Ms. Fisher about a recent article that she had written for a travel website (or newspaper, I can’t recall) about her trip to Acapulco.
The conversation went something like this:
“So what did you think of it [the article]?” Ms. Fisher asked.
The woman shrugged. “Well, it wasn’t exactly great literature.”
Ms. Fisher, without looking up from the item she was signing for a fan, responded, “So you’re saying it was shit!”
Of course, everyone in the room broke out into laughter. Such was the acerbic, sometimes trenchant, humor of Carrie Fisher. I, for one, simply thanked her for coming and told her that it was an honor to meet her. She thanked me in return and signed my vintage 12″ boxed Princess Leia figure from Kenner (see below).
As Leia Organa, Ms. Fisher was a hero to me alongside Mark Hamill and Harrison Ford. It was Star Wars that led to me watching reruns of Star Trek when I was a kid and I became hooked on science fiction and space opera, which then inspired me to become a writer and storyteller in my own right.
2016 has been a tumultuous and tragic year, taking from us many talented artists. For me, however, the loss of Carrie Fisher cuts deeper as did the passings, within the last 20 years, of such icons as Gene Roddenberry, DeForest Kelley, Christopher Reeve, and Leonard Nimoy, just to name a few.
I cannot help but to think my own mortality as we watch the performers of my childhood exit the world stage for the final time. I only hope that I can leave behind such enduring legacies. Carrie Fisher was a marvelous, witty writer and an advocate for those suffering from mental illness. May the Force of her personality and strength be with us always.
