Growing Up Star Wars: Episode II, The Sequels, er, um...the Prequels.

Dateline: 1983. Return of the Jedi is released upon the world, the final chapter of the Star Wars trilogy. The Empire has been defeated. Darth Vader and the evil Emperor have been vanquished. The Rebel Alliance is triumphant and peace prevails upon that galaxy far, far away. Story over.

Only, we all know it isn't. After all, the three movies we have are only chapters 4-6 of the Skywalker saga. There is much more to be told. How did the Empire come to be? What drove Anakin Skywalker to the Dark Side? What were the Clone Wars? These were questions that needed answers. Fortunately, given the production timeline for the original movies, being around three years per film, then 1986 should see the release of Episode I, and we would all start getting our answers.

1986 came...and went. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. Not even a whisper of a new film. The most I had heard was from some pulp magazine published that same year that gave a vague plot description of what would be the next story, involving B-movie princess Sybil Danning (Look it up, people!) playing the Dark Side witch who would seduce Anakin and transform him into Darth Vader (Seriously!) I think the magazine that ran the story was owned by Mrs. Danning, as almost every article had her involved one grandiose movie sequel or another (Terminator, Indiana Jones, Alien, etc) with none of these predictions coming true. This may have been a forerunner to the modern website WeGotThisCovered.com.

1987. Star Wars still had a presence, but it was fading faster than a Force ghost. Two Ewok T.V. movies and the Ewok/Droids Adventure Hour cartoons came out fast and fizzled just as quickly. Marvel Comics Star Wars line. More prominent was West End Games' excellent role-playing game (I still have most of the books. They serve as great inspiration for even my non-Star Wars writing.) and the Disney/Lucasfilm collaboration on their Star Tours thrill ride. But that was all. We couldn't even get a rerun of The Star Wars Holiday Special, and everyone loved that! Right? Right?

Time marched on. We fans got on with our lives. We still had our VHS versions of the movies to watch, but that was all. Somehow, we survived.

Around late 1990-early 1991, I was inspired to try my hand at writing my own Star Wars novel, and glorious fantasies raced through my mind of my single-handedly bringing the franchise back to life, gaining the adoration of millions. (The entire story of that particular train wreck can be found in my October 16, 2019 blog post. I encourage you to read it, if you haven't already, as I will not be retelling it again.) Let's just say that a certain small-time author named Timothy Zahn beat me to that particular punch and, let's face it, the world is better off for it. Well played, Mister Zahn. Well played indeed.

We all know the story from there. Star Wars came back in a big way. Books, comics, toys, video games. Everything geared toward telling the further adventures of our beloved Star Warriors in a galaxy far, far away.

But we were still left scratching our heads. How did this all start? Where were the new movies we all expected? (Deserved? Demanded?)

"All I need is an idea."-George Lucas

Hyperjump to November 1994. A spark of hope begins to burn brighter as George Lucas finally announces that he has begun writing the long-awaited Episode I. Tantalizing tidbits began to come from official sources. The Star Wars Insider began running articles on the search for locations, actors, and the like. Liam Neeson as a Jedi? Awesome! Natalie Portman playing Luke and Leia's mom? Yesss! And some Scottish dude named MacGregor was reported to be playing young Obi-Wan Kenobi. (Never heard of him. He'll probably never go anywhere after this.)  More reports leaked. Photos of newly constructed sets and ships began popping up like daisies. And finally, on Thanksgiving weekend of 1998, the world got its first look at the new saga as the teaser trailer drops in theaters (We saw it with A Bug's Life) Reports of people paying full ticket prices to get into the theater to see the teaser and leaving immediately thereafter abound. Six more months and two more trailers would pass before May of 1999 and the return of the greatest space saga to ever grace the motion-picture screen.

I saw it that opening weekend. I felt twelve years old again as the theater darkened and my pulse quickened. The immortal words A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... came on screen and the full-to-capacity theater went berserk, so much so that when John Williams' title fanfare blasted through the speakers, it was barely audible. Things finally settled as the opening crawl began to fade and we all settled in to be enthralled.

Two hours and sixteen minutes later, it was all over, and the crowd...was dead silent. No one really seemed to know how to react. I expected to hear applause and there were literally crickets chirping in the background.

I walked from the theater confused. I liked it, that much was certain. The visuals were terrific, the pod race an instant classic, and the nobody Scottish dude was surprisingly good, but it felt...off.

I'm not hating on the movie. Not at all. As I said, I enjoyed it. George Lucas did not ruin my childhood. But while this film looked like Star Wars, it didn't exactly feel like it. The same thing three years later with Attack of the Clones. Fun. Looked great. Introduced Boba Fett and his dad. Still felt off. 2005's Revenge of the Sith, the "final" film of the Star Wars saga did a better job, but still left some questions unanswered, and many more of us shaking our heads as to why Lucas ignored certain established, and critical, points of continuity. But it was all over now. The story had been told, and there was nothing we could do about it.

I have long theorized that the biggest problem of the prequels has not been the script or the acting or the jarring lack of continuity, but we the fans. We all had over a decade to form our own theories as to what would happen, how Vader and the Empire would rise and the Jedi would fall, and very little of what came about fit into those theories. As a writer, I know that it's a trap that we all fall into. we all want to make the fans happy, but we also want to tell the story that we, the writers, want to. There is no way to make everyone happy. Just can't be done. George Lucas told the story that he wanted to tell, and he was unjustly crucified for it. I could relate, and I was resolved that we would never see another Star Wars movie again. (The Clone Wars doesn't, doesn't count.)

Once more we moved on. I began publishing sweeping sci-fi tales of my own, rightly giving Mister Lucas credit for his influence. But there would never be another Star Wars.

Little did we know that there was a mouse looming on the horizon.

Coming soon: Growing Up Star Wars: Episode III, The Re-Awakening.



#starwars #anewhope #theempirestrikesback #returnofthejedi #thephantommenace #attackoftheclones #revengeofthesith #lucasfilm #georgelucas #thestarwarssaga 

Growing up Star Wars: Episode I

I was a late bloomer.

It feels good to finally say that. It's good to have it off my chest. The truth is, I did not see the original Star Wars in theaters until almost nine months after its initial release.

Nine months! I've pretty much spent the rest of my life playing catch-up.

Umm, where's the Jawa?

Granted, this was in an era when popular movies stayed in theaters for more than a month before being booted out by the next potential blockbuster. The original Star Wars (Back before prequels, sequels, spin-offs and episode numbers.) played in some theaters for over a year. And I had no clue as to what this budding cultural phenomenon was. Even after inquiring of one of my kindergarten classmates as to who the Darth Vader guy on his t-shirt was, I had no clue. Even as we drove to the theater to see it on my father's birthday, I was unsure of what we were getting into.

I wish I could tell you my exact reactions to all the incredible images that bombarded us that March afternoon. I want to say I was thrilled as the Star Destroyer loomed overhead in that opening shot, or that I knew instinctively to boo when Darth Vader strode onto the screen the first time, but I honestly have no recollection. I knew I enjoyed it, and remember replaying scenes over in my head on the long drive home, but that was about it. I do remember it took me about a month to stop saying Rookie instead of Wookie, and that for weeks after, I would have nightly dreams of our suburban New York neighborhood being attacked by Sand People. And I remember the exact order in which I got those first 12 action figures in (They are Luke, Vader, Chewie, R2-D2, C-3PO, Leia, Stormtrooper, Ben Kenobi, Han Solo, Tusken Raider, Death Star Commander, and Jawa. Why the Jawa remained so elusive is beyond me. My friend's grandmother in New Jersey had to pick one up for me. Jersey! They were strangely MIA in New York.)

The author (right) at a 1979 meet
and greet with Darth Vader and
Chewbacca. (Dig Chewie's awesome
brown gardening gloves!)

Nevertheless, despite gaps in my young memory as to my first impressions, I was, like so many other kids my age, and please pardon the pun, starstruck. Star Wars threw me in a direction I didn't know existed. Any interest in other things that would preoccupy a seven-year-old boy went out the airlock. Star Wars consumed me. Cars? Meh! Sports? Puhleeze! Girls? Too early for that. My mind went on that journey to a galaxy far, far away, refusing to be brought back to such mundane earthly topics. 

The Summer of 1979 brought about another trip to see the movie in one of its numerous re-releases, this time getting the first sneak look at The Empire Strikes Back. The still-packed theater watched anxiously as each new scene played out before us, We laughed. We thrilled. And when the announcer said "Coming to your galaxy...next summer!" the entire theater, my father included, cried out in one voice "Next summer???" Truly it was a cruel joke to play on the masses to tease us, then make us wait an entire year to see what happened next.

The Empire Strikes Back premiered May 21, 1980, and my then nine-year-old self waited impatiently at our front door to pounce on my work-weary father and implore him with big, puppy-dog eyes, to take me to see it that day!  He was tired. He had a headache. He said yes. We caught an early-evening showing at a theater in Nassau County. I sat there, adrenaline coursing through my small-ish body as every scene played out. I thrilled to the epic snow battle, gained wisdom from Master Yoda's teachings, held my breath waiting to find out if Han survived the carbon-freezing process, then excitedly watched as the Millennium Falcon set out to go rescue him.

Then sat there with my jaw in my lap as the credits rolled. What? It can't end there! What about Han? It wasn't nearly two hours gone already, was it?

It was. I was so swept up that my mind forgot exactly how time worked. Darn you, Mr. Lucas. Darn you to Heck.

For three years I agonized over what would happen next. Luckily, and much to my parent's delight, there were all new toys to play with and map out in my brain where the next film would go. I didn't play with my Han Solo action figure during the entire three years, out of respect for the carbon-frozen hero. During this time, I tried my one and only attempt at filmmaking, using my dad's Super-8 film camera, and a bunch of white towels arranged on the basement couch, I tried to remake the snow

The toys! All the glorious toys!

battle on Hoth. Knowing next to nothing about how the camera operated, I attempted to make my AT-AT walker stride across the fuzzy snowfields of Hoth. The final result was more like an Imperial training video of how an Imperial Walker would operate if driven by a drunken, three-toed, myopic rhinoceros. I would have to find other creative ways to tell my stories.

May 25, 1983 and the release of the (then) final chapter in the Star Wars saga, Return of the Jedi premiered. I had thought of little else since May of three years earlier. But instead of going to the theater and standing in line with my friends to see it, I sat at home watching reviews of it on TV newscasts because I had a raging case of strep throat. Obviously, the Dark Side was at work here. It didn't matter that I knew the entire story, having obtained a rogue copy of the Marvel Comics adaptation a month before. It needed to be seen. I needed to see it. I could not show my face in school the day after Memorial Day having been the only one to not see it.

Fortunately, the Light Side of the Force was with me. I not only saw it that Saturday morning, but again on Monday morning when my older brother decided to take me again. We might have had our differences, but for that brief, shining moment, my brother was the coolest guy in the galaxy, and I was the coolest guy in school. Suck it up, losers! I saw it twice!

It was Jedi that inspired me to start writing my own science fiction stories, and I soon after began crafting my own epic. Twelve glorious hand-written pages; the first five or six of which were actually my own creation. The rest was plagiarized from the space battle scenes of the Jedi novelization, with names creatively changed to protect my innocence.

The saga was finished, but we all knew there was more to be told. George Lucas said so himself. We all waited feverishly for the announcement that the new trilogy was due to begin filming soon. Since there were gaps of three years between the first trilogy, reason dictated that by the summer of 1986, we would all be voyaging back to that galaxy far, far away. just a matter of time...

Circa 1986. Umm, Mister Lucas? George? Hello?

Anyone?

Coming soon: Growing Up Star Wars: Episode II, The Sequels, er, um...the Prequels.



#starwars #anewhope #theempirestrikesback #returnofthejedi #lucasfilm #georgelucas #thestarwarssaga #kennertoys

My "Gift" to You

My gift, to you, my readers, (All, what? Five of you?), is The Gift, a short story I did several years ago before becoming the self-publishing mogul that I am today. Small children encountering extraterrestrials? Not the E.T. of our childhood.

The Gift

The children at play in the schoolyard that early Friday morning looked up in awe as the saucer descended from out of the cool azure sky. All activity ceased as the ship drew nearer and the children stared in wide-eyed wonder realizing that it was about to set down on the athletic field adjacent to their building.

The teachers on recess duty that day tried to stem the flow of curious children from racing to meet the ship as it settled to the ground so feather light it barely disturbed the dust. Like lemmings, the children rushed through the gap in the cyclone fencing, sometimes three or more wide, jamming the exit until the push of students from behind popped them through like a cork from a bottle.

They gathered all around the gleaming silver disc, not knowing what to expect. Little eyes gazing in quiet wonder at this object from the stars, wondering and waiting for something to happen.

They did not have long to wait.

A sudden pop and hiss preceded the ship splitting in half like a shelled walnut. The abrupt sound and action caused a number of children to jump. The majority of them took a cautious step back.

By the time the two aliens emerged, a lone child, a little girl, remained where she stood. All others had shied back several yards. With a curious lilt of her head, she watched the new arrivals all but unfold themselves from their craft until they stood nearly three times her height, all legs and arms, with curiously small heads and large, dark eyes.

The girl watched, not at all afraid, nor aware of the fact that all her friends, schoolmates and teachers had by now retreated to the imagined safety on the opposite side of the cyclone fence. She adjusted her glasses and took a step forward.

The aliens finished their unfolding and looked down at the lone girl, blinking their large, dark eyes inquisitively at her as she did the same. The first alien smiled at her, obviously charmed by her lack of fear. Her friends continued to remain behind the fence.

“I bring you greetings, little human. I am Zakkdahr.” It gestured to its companion, who also smiled and raised a spindly hand in recognition. “This is Grot. We come to you as visitors from the Zagnut galaxy. We have been instructed by our most esteemed Imperious Leader to come to you and present a gift to the first human we meet.”

At these words, the one called Grot produced a box of multi-colored crystal that seemed to radiate with some luminous energy from within. The young girl’s eyes grew wide at the sight of it.

Taking the box from Grot, Zakkdahr continued. “You are a most fortunate race to receive a gift like this. This gift will put an end to all your world’s troubles. Please accept it as a token of friendship from our people.”

He extended the box to the little girl who hesitated, but upon seeing the disarming smile on Zakkdahr’s face, took a tentative step forward and took it from him. She seemed momentarily surprised by the lack of weight for its size, nearly dropping it before compensating.

Zakkdahr smiled again. “I am sorry to say that we must leave you now. We have other worlds to visit upon which we wish to honor with our gifts. Please, use it wisely.”

Grot was already folding himself back into the ship as Zakkdahr turned and began walking back to the craft. Just before entering, he paused and looked back. “One thing of note.” He called back to the little girl, who was already being crowded by schoolmates now that they were leaving. All stopped and listened intently. “Please do not activate the gift before we are out of your planet’s atmosphere, as its power has a tendency to interfere with our drive systems. Once we are out of sight, feel free to activate it.”

He began that curious folding motion of his body again, and was soon in his seat next to Grot. Both waved to the crowd as it drew closer. “And now, farewell.”

The ship sealed itself again, seams melding together to form a single, flawless surface. With the barest whisper of sound, the craft lifted from the schoolyard, pivoting at an angle perpendicular to the ground once it was above the treetops, and thrust itself into the sky, disappearing from sight within seconds.

By the time the ship had vanished, the entire population of the schoolyard had gathered around the little girl with the box. As her friends egged her on, she lifted the lid, multicolored lights emanating from it like the rainbow of the Lord’s promise. Inside was a single button.

The girl looked from the button to the crowd around her, and back to the button. Smiling, she pressed it.

Zakkdahr and Grot howled with glee as they watched Earth disintegrate from a safe distance. Their ship rocked gently, like a boat bobbing on the sea, as the last of the shockwave reached them.

“Humans,” Zakkdahr crowed, wiping moist remains of tears of laughter from his eyes. “They blow up so easily!”

Beside him, Grot was a rolling mass of uncontrolled giggling, which only caused Zakkdahr to laugh more. Then the comm system sounded.

Both of them stopped laughing, sharing worried glances, holding their breath.

When the comm sounded again, Zakkdahr reached a trembling hand forward and switched on the receiver. A hologram appeared in the air before them, a being like themselves, but older. “ZAKKDAHR!!! Have you been blowing up planets again?”

Zakkdahr struggled to find words, but the older alien cut him off. “How many times have I told you not to go around blowing up lesser civilizations just because you think it’s funny?”

“But how did you…”

“It wasn’t hard to figure out it was you. I followed the debris trail. Plus, your little prank on Hargus Minor failed. The residents there pointed the two of you out.”

“But…Father…”

The elder waved his words away. “We will speak of this more when you get home. And if you think I’m upset, just wait until your mother finds out.” He turned his gaze to Grot. “As for you, Grot Maagus, I wouldn’t be surprised if your father removes your entire spleen this time, and don’t think I won’t tell him!”

In the seat next to Zakkdahr, Grot fainted dead away.

***

This was one of those silly little stories that just seem to pop up out of nowhere. Staring at the skyline through the window of my local library’s reading room on a bright, sunny January day, I suddenly wondered what effect the arrival of a UFO would have on our small city. Then I wondered who would be their first point of contact. I liked the idea of a young girl, old enough to be wary, but still young enough as to not be threatening to the new visitors, and in my mind, my daughter MacKenzie, then in fourth grade, fit the bill nicely. It is she that I pictured when writing this tale, and we can firmly lay blame for the destruction of Earth at her feet.

My wife said she was “appalled” upon reading this. I knew then that I had gotten this one right.

The Gift, along with several other of my short stories, can now be found in Other Worlds: A Collection of Science Fiction and Fantasy, available now in e-book, and soon paperback and audio(?) from Amazon.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00L0R7D1G

 #scifiwriter #scifiblog #amwritingscifi #aliens #ufo #firstcontact #otherworlds #thestarhawkchronicles

Resurrection of Evil: The Star Wars Novel You Will Never Read

Knowing my love and adoration for a certain space saga set a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, a lot of people ask me why I simply don't write a Star Wars novel of my own? 

Firstly, one cannot simply write a Star Wars novel (Or any other franchise for that matter. Star Trek, Supernatural, etc) and just offer it up to publishers for consideration,  Lucasfilm decides on the type of story they want and then select an author (or authors) that they want to do the writing.

In addition, in talking to X-Wing Rogue Squadron author Michael Stackpole, I learned that even though you are the author, you have little to no control as to the future fate of your novel. Bestseller though it may be, if the greater powers-that-be decide it's time to pull your book from shelves (or, in certain cases are no longer canon, but Legends) the author has little to say about it. Having a best-selling Star Wars novel is not a guarantee of fame and fortune. Granted, just being known as a best-selling Star Wars author certainly doesn't hurt your prospects of lucrative contracts with big publishers for some of your other works.

I was blissfully unaware of all this at the time (To be honest, I was unaware of it until meeting Mike Stackpole at the Milwaukee Comic-con this past summer) but I digress.

So with all this in mind, let's set the WABAC machine and travel back to a simpler time. Before the internet. Before toxic fanbases. Before midichlorians and Jar Jar Binks.

The time is early 1990. Star Wars is nowhere to be found. Aside from West End Games' role-playing game and Disney's Star Tours attraction, there was nothing to sate our hunger. No movies. No comic books. No novels. Nada! Fanboys like myself are hurting big time. Much as we love Episodes IV, V, and VI, we want more. George Lucas had promised more movies, otherwise why would he have numbered them the way he had? Something needed to be done. Soon!

Then, one day it hit me. I love to write. I love Star Wars. Why not write the next chapter in the saga myself? I could both kickstart my career as a writer into hyperdrive and revive the franchise, earning the praise and adulation of millions of fans worldwide.

I set about my task with a fervor second only to religious zealotry. I re-watched the films, read the novelizations, the spin-off novels, all 107 issues of the Marvel Comics series. I even bought a copy of The Star Wars Holiday Special at a convention. As I researched, my tale began to take shape. I invented characters or incorporated some from the (at that time) Expanded Universe. I worked out scenes and action sequences, even going so far as to storyboard some as though I were planning this as a cinematic feature. This was going to be EPIC! With all the elements in place, I began writing the first chapter.

Jump to spring 1990. I find this on the shelf of a bookstore I frequent:

Curses! Foiled again! Not only did Timothy Zahn beat me to the punch, but he did it brilliantly, setting the bar so high that only a few of the many novels to follow would even come remotely close.

Resurrection of Evil not only failed to get near that bar, it missed it entirely. I wasn't even in the same solar system. In a deep funk, I decided it was best not to try playing in the big kids' yard. I went on to other things.

But now, here for the first time, is the plot for my vision of Episode VII. I no longer have any of the notes that I made, so this is all coming from memory.

Episode VII begins with it's own title crawl, the first line of which borrowed from the blurb on the back of the Return of the Jedi video cassette, stating that The Galactic Empire has been brought to its knees. As with the original trilogy, and Zahn's novels, we start with a Star Destroyer on the run from a Rebel hunter-killer task force that stumbles across an abandoned space station, on which a lost apprentice of Darth Vader's lurks. Commandeering the Star Destroyer, the apprentice sets out to avenge his master's death.

On Endor, Luke is continuing to hone his mastery of the Force. He receives a vision of Obi Wan that warns him that a new dark force is rising. He learns that his friend Halla, keeper of the Kaiburr (Khyber? Kyber?) Crystal, which enhances one's mastery of the Force, has gone missing. (Both Halla and the Khyber crystal first appeared in Alan Dean Foster's novel Splinter of the Mind's Eye.)

At the same time, Han and Leia are sent on a mission somewhere (Sorry for the vagueness. Remember, working from memory.) to bring in an operative from the rebel base there. They find the base under attack by a group of Imperial AT-ST walkers, remotely controlled by a master AT-AT. Using a commandeered landspeeder and Leia's newly acquired lightsaber, they manage to thwart the attack by cutting the lead walker's front legs off, effectively killing the drone AT-ST's in the process.

Boba Fett returns as well, having escaped from the Sarlacc and journeying on foot across the Tatooine wastes, fighting a band of Tusken Raiders along the way, to Jabba's palace, where his ship is docked. He then sets off on a vengeance quest for our heroes.

Numerous incidents occur within the middle of the text, none of which, I confess, really stand out in my memory.

The story ends with a climax on two fronts. Han, Chewie and Leia in the Falcon square off against Fett’s Slave I. Fett is kicking the snot out of the Falcon and taunting Han for his decision to run. Enraged, Han turns the Falcon around and charges Fett, both ships firing wildly as they play a space-based game of chicken. Wanna guess who wins?

As for Luke, he has tracked Halla back to Mimban (Again from Splinter of the Minds Eye, and not the one that appears in the early battle scene in Solo), where the Kaiburr Crystal was first discovered. She had been trying to return the crystal back to where it belongs, dying in the process at the hands of Vader's apprentice. Luke and the apprentice duel, during the course of which the crystal is smashed upon the ground. A huge vortex erupts from the shards, destroying the apprentice. Luke barely gets clear in his X-wing as the vortex grows larger, eventually reaching to space and destroying the orbiting Star Destroyer as well.

Heroes reunite, all is well, and as John Williams' music swells in our heads, we fade to end credits.

Not exactly as epic-sounding now as it was in my head some twenty-plus years ago, but there are still a lot of elements in it that I still like, and through the wonder of recycling, will be reused in future tales.

And who knows? Maybe now that this is out there for the general public to read, maybe I'll get a call from Disney/Lucasfilm about writing and directing a trilogy of my own?

Yeah. Not gonna lie awake at night waiting for that call.

#starwars #heirtotheempire #scifiwriter #scifiblog #lucasfilm #disney #georgelucas

Can't We All Just Get Along?

I must have been living under a rock for the past thirty or so years. This can be the only explanation. How else could I have missed out on such a heated debate amongst fanboys (and girls) over which is superior - Star Wars or Star Trek?

 I have been a fan of science fiction my entire life and never realized that I might have to make a choice between two such beloved franchises. It is really only since the advent of social media (re: Facebook) that the conflict has truly come to my attention. I will not advocate for either side on this matter. My intention is to simply state where I stand and let members of either camp decide whether to come after me lynch-mob style.

I will confess that my first love is Star Wars, mainly because I experienced it first. I was seven years old when I saw the original film in the theaters (Back before episode numbers, when A New Hope was simply known as Star Wars.) Like every other child of similar age at this time, I was blown away by the original film (Much as Greedo was blown away by Han Solo who -say it with me- shot first!) I had never had much exposure to science fiction before this, but afterward I began to take in as much as I could. This lead, logically (No pun intended) to my first, and almost last, encounter with Star Trek.

January 1979, my parents take me out for my birthday to see Star Trek: The Motion Picture. The television ads got me very excited for this film, with images of the newly refurbished Enterprise, and Klingon ships battling. My excitement lasted about fifteen minutes, right after those battling Klingons and newly refurbished Enterprise flashed across the screen. Star Trek: The Motion Picture quickly became the Motionless Picture. I was bored, my parents were bored. My father would continually lean over and ask if I wanted to leave. For some odd reason, despite my boredom, I kept saying no, I wanted to see how it turned out. I left the theater despising the movie, but intrigued enough to start watching the series. (For the record, in recent years I have come to a new appreciation for the first film, since the Directors Edition edit on DVD, but it is still probably my least favorite.) On occasion, while flipping through channels, and if nothing else was on, I would check out that week's adventures of Kirk, Spock, and crew, but it had yet to take with me. It wasn't until The Wrath of Khan that I began to follow wholeheartedly, and by The Search for Spock, I was a true convert.

For many years, Trek filled the void left behind by the lack of any adventures set in that galaxy far, far away, but I always wanted more Star Wars. And even when George Lucas decided to finally grace us with more Wars, whether in books, comics, games or the special editions or prequel films, I never lost my enthusiasm for Trek.

What I am getting at is that I have a deep love and respect for both franchises and will not choose sides. I do not care if Worf could beat up Chewbacca. I have no intention of traveling to Riverside, Iowa, wearing my Darth Maul t-shirt, blasting the Star Wars theme from my car stereo, and urinating on the placard indicating the spot that is marked as the future birthplace of Captain Kirk (Seriously, that's a thing.) A face-off between the Enterprise and a Star Destroyer? Who cares?

Star Trek or Star Wars? Apples and oranges people! Enjoy them both for what they are. Two diverse, but equally entertaining science fiction franchises. Go to Comic-con dressed in your best Klingon warrior garb and go hug a Wookie! When Trek was at its best, it celebrated that kind of diversity. It's a lesson that we should all take to heart.

#starwars #scifiwriter #scifiblog #lucasfilm #disney #georgelucas #generoddenberry #startrek #fandom 

Attack of the Feminist Nazis from Outer Space

"Maybe it is just the cover art, but he is wearing several layers and a coat while her skin is bare. I wouldn’t dress like she did to go to a fight in a cold place, so I infer she isn’t smart enough to be worth while to read about. If he likes her, there is something wrong with him. If he got her into the situation clothed like that, he is despicable. No good reason to read this book, and I write this sort of book professionally. Get new cover art."

The preceding was a comment from someone on Linkedin commenting on the cover art for The Starhawk Chronicles. Apparently, my critic feels that my main character is a misogynistic caveman who subjugates the women around him. 

The Starhawk Chronicles  has been available for a little over 6 years now. Never in all that time have I heard anything other than positivity towards the cover art. I never believed in having a female character wearing a metal bikini with size FFF boobs hanging out on the cover unless it was absolutely an element in the story, which it is not. I also have 3 daughters and the last thing I wanted to do was have my main female protagonist sexualized in any way, giving them the wrong impression that women should be portrayed that way. I don't think there is anything offensive about how Kayla is portrayed on the cover. Even her jumpsuit is far from skintight. One of my problems with the Star Trek series of the late 90's-2000's was having a key female character, important parts of the crew, wearing outfits that basically look painted on. Don't get me wrong. I'm no prude. I just don't see the point , or practicality, for a character to be dressed like that who isn't of low repute.

As a friend pointed out,
 Kayla has a 2nd amendment
 right to "bare arms"

...but this person is apparently appalled that her arms are bare while Jesse is wearing a jacket, and that makes him "despicable." Anyone who has read the book knows that As for Jesse being sexist, I must point out that Kayla pulls his fat from the fire on several occasions. She is in no way subservient to him.

I cannot abide weak female characters. The one thing that always bothered me about 1950's sci-fi/ horror films was that the female lead was always there to do nothing more than scream and run away from the monster, to be rescued by the hero.(Margaret Sheriden in 1951's The Thing from Another World being an exception.) My view of women in sci-fi were influenced by Princess Leia, Ellen Ripley, Sarah Connor, and others. I write strong female characters. I believe in women having equal rights, but when uber-feminists criticize male characters without even reading the book, well...let's just say it hurts their cause.

Classic example of not judging a book by its cover. And I've seen her covers. Not a lot there to judge.

Makes The Starhawk Chronicles look like War and Peace.

Welcome to My World

“All his life has he looked away. . .to the future, to the horizon. Never his mind on where he was. What he was doing.”   - Yoda, The Empire Strikes Back

Not sure if this holds true for Luke Skywalker, but, in my case, truer words have never been spoken.

I have always dreamed of going to the stars. I remember helping my father in the garage one chilly March night in 1978, having only recently seen the original Star Wars for the first time. It was a clear night and the moon was very full. It was then, gazing up at the heavens, that I realized there was more to life than just this tiny rock we lived on called Earth. Heavy thoughts for a seven-year-old.

I have not looked down since.

I became obsessed with space, and anything to do with the subject. I would watch every space shuttle launch and landing. I watched every hokey sci-fi show that came out in the 70’s and 80's(Anyone else remember Jason of Star Command?) and devoured many a novel or comic book on the subject. I wanted to be Han Solo, or Buck Rogers, or Battlestar Galactica’s Starbuck. My friend Dave and I would play different variations of space cowboy every Saturday afternoon.

The author at 8 years old (right)

 at a Star Wars meet-and-greet

 with Darth Vader and a

very questionable-looking

 Chewbacca

Then, when I was twelve years old, the writing bug bit me…or, at least, the slightly unoriginal, highly plagiaristic writing bug.

My first short story was a twelve-page, hand-written epic called Space War 3000. Its first five pages were my own creation, the last eight of which I copied almost word for word out of the novelization for Return of the Jedi, merely changing appropriate names here and there to make the story my own.

Apologies to Mr. James Kahn, the novelization’s author. He had nothing to fear from me.

Nevertheless, I continued to hone my skills as a writer. High School saw me wiling away many a study hall session creating worlds and mapping out galactic battles, when I should have been doing homework or studying.

I was sixteen years old when I first met the crew of the Starhawk.

“This one, a long time have I watched.” - Yoda

The Starhawk Chronicles is a tale years in the making. April 19, 1987 is the official

80's superstar Michael Jackson starring

 in Disney's Captain EO-inspiration

(Yes, really!) for The Starhawk Chronicles. 

birthdate, if fictional characters can be considered born.  The idea came about while waiting on a particularly long line at Disneyland. We had just come from seeing the Michael Jackson 3-D movie Captain EO. I loved the idea of a bunch space-faring misfits that come out on top. Over the next weeks and months, the crew of the Starhawk began to take definite form. They would be a group of down-on-their-luck space pirates, constantly in trouble, and just as constantly getting out of trouble by the story’s end. The final, final draft of the manuscript weighed in at over 250 pages—quite an accomplishment for someone still in high school. Over the next few years I would teak away at it until I had it just right. Then I threw the whole thing out.

Looking back, the story about a group of down-on-their-luck space pirates who accidentally end up on Earth and wind up with a teenage stowaway who will eventually take over as captain was just a bit too much like the 1984 film The Last Starfighter (A personal favorite of mine.). I decided to make the crew rougher, the story a bit darker, and ditch a character that I could only loosely call a heroine. Oh yeah, and make them bounty hunters, not pirates.

"Bounty hunters? We don't need that scum!"- Admiral Piett, The Empire Strikes Back

I have been fascinated with bounty hunters since Boba Fett first appeared in the

Some more, realistic inspirations
for the crew of the Starhawk.

1978 Star Wars Holiday Special (NERD ALERT! Yes, I own a copy.) and the 1980 Steve McQueen film The Hunter. This profession seemed a natural fit for the crew of the Starhawk. Most of the characters and personalities stayed true to their original incarnations, Jesse Forster became the troubled leader of the crew, Rahk Garrakis and the Nexus Gang, planned antagonists for the sequel to the original Starhawk tale, became the villains, and Kayla Karson is introduced as Jesse’s rival, sidekick, and potential romantic interest. (I have to admit, Kayla is so much fun to write, I have a series of solo books planned for her as well.)

So, the novel is done, edited, re-edited, tweaked, pinched and so-forth. I begin submitting to agents and publishers…and hit a brick wall.

Everywhere I tried, I was told “We like your concept, but it doesn’t fit what we’re looking for at this time.” Translation: Since your novel does not include whatever happens to be popular at this moment (Sparkly vampires, etc.), we don’t to take a chance on it.

I thought about self-publishing years ago, but then it was considered a vanity thing. “Not good enough for an agent? Self-publish to feel better about yourself.” The times have changed. With the advent e-books and self-publishing services like Amazon KDP, Smashwords, Lulu and others, those of us who have something to say can now be heard, whether the traditional publishing world wants to hear us or not.

That being said, if you pick up one of my books hoping for something filled with profundities and deep thoughts about where mankind is going as a race; tales along the lines of Azimov, Bradbury, or Clarke, then I suggest you hit your local library or bookstore and pick up a copy of Azimov, Bradbury, or Clarke. While it would be an honor to be included among those great writers, I don’t see it happening. They used science fiction to explore and comment on the human condition. I’m just writing to have fun. My writing, and the aforementioned influences behind it, has, admittedly, a certain cheese aspect to it—a Saturday matinee, sugar-induced, roller coaster with heroic heroes and dastardly villains (Yes, I said dastardly!) My only defense is that I am a child of the 80’s. Cheese is what we did. Just watch any episode of Buck Rogers in the 25^th Century and you’ll see where I’m coming from. Not that I view that as an entirely bad thing. I'm guessing that those out there with a nostalgic attitude probably share my POV.

That’s all I have for now, fellow space travelers. I shall endeavor to keep this blog current and entertaining, sharing my passion not only for writing, but for all things geek. Until then, keep on geekin’ on.

Regards,

Joe

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