Saturday, December 6, 2014

Oh Captain, My Captain

This is the third post in a series (that has been delayed over and over) about the Bechdel Test as it relates to Star Trek--the results of which come from Trekkie Feminist. My question or exploration or whatever is all about why exactly it is that Voyager ranks so much higher than the other shows. So, as you can probably guess by the title, this one is about how the captain in a Trek show relates to its ability to pass the Bechdel test. Here we go:

There's a saying in the Doctor Who fandom that, "You never forget your first Doctor." And, in my experience at least, that's true. Mine was Tom Baker. I watched reruns of his tenure on PBS with my dad when I was a little girl. So, even though I didn't become a real, diehard fan until the reboot, I still hold a special place in my heart for Baker and his scarf-wearing, Jelly-Baby-eating antics.

It's kind of the same thing with Picard. I very clearly remember watching the first seasons of TNG when I was a kid. Even though, at the time, I was really young, I have very clear memories of seeing those episodes when they were new. And, because of that, I guess, I'll always have a special place in my heart for that ship, crew, and captain.

I was, though, appalled and not 100% surprised to see TNG ranked so low and Voyager ranked so high. As I pointed out in my first Bechdel post, as far pure as numbers go Voyager doesn't actually have any more regular female cast members than TNG or DS9 but one obvious difference is the parts these women play. In particular, Voyager has a female captain.

A lot of what I saw online when these test results were released were comments that followed this kind of logic-- "Well, of course Voyager did better. It has a female captain so it's more female centric."

I mean, I guess you could say that but, what does that even mean? Instead of just stopping there, I think it's important to think about what's really going on here. I think it's a little more nuanced than that. Because, ultimately, Star Trek is about a ship, its crew, and its captain. The captain is a separate entity because everything rests on their spandex-clad shoulders.

Everything in Trek goes through the captain. Every plot, every sub-plot, practically every character arc--somehow the captain ends up getting involved. I'd love to go through (on my next re-watch, I guess) and see how many scenes are shot in the captain's ready room. Anyway, if everything eventually filters through the captain, then the female crew members are likely to end up having conversations with them.

When I first decided to further analyze Trekkie Feminist's results, I went back and watched the first three episodes from TNG, VOY, and DS9's Season Fives. TNG passed. DS9 failed. VOY passed. Actually, every single episode of Voyager's Season Five passed the test and it was the only Trek series to have such a season. In the episodes of Voyager that I watched, Janeway and Seven talk, Torres and Seven talk, and Janeway and Torres talk.

As you scroll through the official results, Janeway's name comes up over and over. In fact, if you subtract the times an episode passes solely on the basis of Janeway speaking to another female character, you lose eleven episodes--out of a 26 episode season.  This--the most successful season in Trek according to the Bechdel Test--goes from a 100% rating to about 58%.

If any of the other Treks had had a female captain, I think its Bechdel score would've gone right up. And it's not because she would be having episodes about boys and periods and chocolate and whatever other clich├ęs women are supposed to talk about. It's not because having a female captain means the ship is steered in a more girly direction. It's because eventually everyone has to talk to the boss. If Sisko has been a lady, all his deep conversations with the "old man" would've ranked. If Picard had been a Jeena instead of a Jean Luc, all his discussions with the doctor or the counselor (wherein she said, "He's hiding something, Captain.") would've ranked.

But why is any of this this important anyway? Well, because stuff like Trek is aspirational. Kids watch this stuff and they pick a character that seems most like them and they say, "That's me." or "That could be me." I know I did. As a kid watching TNG, I wasn't a huge fan of either Crusher or Troi. They just weren't interesting to me. My favorites were Data, Geordi, and Picard. I loved them and, in many ways, I identified with Geordi and Data--even though they weren't girls.

But then Voyager came along. At just the right time. I was in 5th grade when the show premiered and I loved Janeway. I loved Torres. I loved Seven. Re-watching the series last year, I found that I still love them. I admire their smarts and their tenacity. I admire the way they argue from opposite sides of the same goal. I love the way Janeway treats her crew like a family.

Growing up I felt like I was part of that family and I looked up to Janeway. And I think that is, at least for me, the key. I loved Picard. He was my first captain. I still love him. And, as an adult, I admire the choices he made, the way he handled himself, the way he governed his crew. But, as a kid, I didn't look up to him. I didn't aspire to be him. I looked at Janeway and I wanted to be like her. I wanted to be her. I wanted to be a leader. I wanted to have that same kind of agency as a woman in the real world. I wanted to be in charge of my own destiny and my own projects and then... I kinda did. I started my Shakespeare program when I was twenty years old because I thought I could. I decided to be a writer because I thought I could. I decided to watch all of Trek in a year because I thought I could.

How much do those things have to do with Janeway?  Did I have more confidence in myself and my abilities because I watched her be awesome for seven years?  I'm really not sure. But having her as a role model absolutely didn't hurt. She was and is important to me. And, in the end, maybe that makes her my captain.



Sunday, November 30, 2014

Season's Greetings Kind Of

I've been out of touch (again) lately. I aggravated an old injury at the gym and that pretty much ate up my whole week. I did manage to watch both Monty Python and The Holy Grail AND The Life of Brian and I knitted two and a half hats and ate gallons of soup because I'm pretty sure soup isn't just for colds and I really felt awful. I'm on the mend now and moving around the house almost like regular.

Also, it RAINED today. In Southern California. This is a really big deal here. I went out for a walk at 7AM just so I could play in the rain.

Otherwise I've been working on another graphic essay project, looking over the artist's roughs for my next novel's cover, and doing some final stuff for the Awesome Jones sequel!

This brings me to the purpose of this post. Tomorrow, for Cyber Monday, the kindle edition of Awesome Jones will be available for just 99 cents! So, faithful (and new) readers, if you haven't yet bought a copy of this book, here's your chance to get it for less than what I bought a peppermint patty for today!

In case you're wondering, here's the official book blurb:

The only thing Awesome Jones wants is to be a super hero. Until he falls in love.
Despite his colorful name, Awesome Jones is a painfully average man who dreams of being a super hero, just like the ones who patrol his city. It’s been that way since he was a little boy, raised by his grandfather after his parents’ death.
The day Jones starts his new job as a file clerk at Akai Printing Company he meets secretary Lona Chang and everything changes. Lona sees something in Jones that no one ever has and the two quickly become inseparable. But when the perfect pair’s domestic bliss is threatened by a super-powered secret from the past, Awesome Jones has to make a choice. He must decide whether he should play it safe or find the strength to live up to his name and risk everything he’s come to love to save the day like he always dreamed.

This superhero novel is more than just a comic book in prose—it’s a fairytale for adults.


Thursday, November 13, 2014

Recovery Etc.

I'm not gonna lie, it's only November 13th and I'm about 97% ready for this year to be over. It's not that it's been awful top to bottom. Some really, truly, lovely things have happened this year. My VERY FIRST BOOK WAS PUBLISHED. That's exciting.

Otherwise, though, it's been a roller coaster of stress and sadness and moody days. My life was taken over by the process of publication--again, a great thing--just stressful. My Shakespeare program (which is a huge part of my life and my identity and has been for ten years) got canceled and it was completely out of my hands. My grandpa died. I hurt my shoulder/arm and set my lifting back months. My best friend started a new job and I miss her. I worry about family members who are going through much worse things than I am. Sinus infections. Korra is ending. My coffee maker broke down. Ok, some of these are obviously more important than others but they all had a definite effect on me.

Here's some of what I've been trying to do to pull myself out of the ridiculous slump I've been in:

1- Bought a bicycle--that whole saga is in another post. In short--this ended up being a train wreck. I finally got the bike to a point that I thought I'd be able to take it out for a ride:
Look how excited I was. Idiot.
I planned to take it for a VERY short test ride. But, about three minutes in, the handlebars AND seat both suddenly rocked inward and almost dumped me out. I ended up hurting my hip and shoulder in the process. This bike is trying to kill me. She and I are through.

2- Took apart the Murder Machine (Schwinn Fairhaven) and boxed the whole thing up to take back to the store. This process was actually very cathartic and far less time consuming that putting the damn things together.

3- Knitting.


4- Gardening. This summer, when it was 110 degrees every single day with 5% humidity, everything I planted pretty much dried out and died a sad, quiet death. November, as it turns out, is a lovely time to garden in Southern California.

 5-I quit spending time on Facebook. Initially this happened as kind of an accident. I was just so busy working that I didn't go over there very much. Then I realized how much happier I was without it. Pleasant surprise.

6-Borderlands: The Pre-Sequel. I've raved about the Borderlands series for as long as it has existed. I loved the first game (my birthday present in 2010) and the second game (our anniversary present to ourselves in 2012) and the newest game (our anniversary present to ourselves this year) and I've had a blast playing through this one in whatever snatches of time I can get.
Googly Eyes certainly help.
7- Breakfast. I've been getting up sometime between 5 and 7 every morning (though occasionally it's pre-4AM) making a little breakfast and then going straight to work. When my coffee machine broke down, I had to replace it and ended up getting an AeroPress which is lovely. Breakfast is the real reason I get out of bed every day.

PS- I made that apple butter.
8- Avatar: The Last Airbender rewatch. I loved this show when it was on. I rewatched it a few years ago but not really since. I recommended it to my sister recently and decided to try and watch along with her. But, you know, she's a college student and was on fall break so she totally blew past me. Still, this ended up being an amazing experience. I'd forgotten so many of the little nuances of this show. It really is brilliant and if you haven't seen it, you ought to. Then watch Korra.

Ok, so basically, I've just been doing regular stuff. I mean, besides buying and putting together and then taking apart a Murder Machine, I've been doing regular stuff. And sometimes it's the lame, every day stuff like knitting and watching TV that is the most healing. For a while, I felt like I was running on empty. And, I'm not saying the tank if full now. But it is better.

Still, I've thought lately about how much I miss this project. I miss writing about Star Trek. I miss watching it. But, just picking out random episodes isn't my thing at all. So... I'm considering something new for 2015. I'm considering watching a single episode of Star Trek every day. Probably, like 2013, I would take the weekend off. But, in general, I'd be watching 5 episodes a week and then writing about them. It would be more low-key than 2013. The posts probably not as long. I mean, I can't afford that kind of time allocation. I have to polish up the Awesome Jones sequel and plan the third book while also writing the sequel to another novel that's not even out yet and then somewhere in there find time to work on the graphic project I'm desperate to get back to. Still, I miss this. I miss Trek. I miss you.

It sounds like a good idea. At least, right now.

What do you think?



Monday, October 27, 2014

Maybe Sunflowers


My grandpa died today.

Wait, let me start over.

One night, when I was a kid, I got in an argument with the bulk of my father's family. I felt slighted and desperate, and I ran to my grandpa, who was just waking up to go to work--third shift in the boiler room of a psychiatric hospital--and cried into his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around me and sleepily told me not to let them get me down. It would be alright.

I sat on the bed next to him in the dim light and sobbed. This argument was only the latest in a long line and it certainly wouldn't be the last. But, through it all, my grandpa was a rock.

When I was a kid, my grandpa collected the family's cans and took them to the recycling center once a month. He wore a driving cap when he drove. And suspenders.

When I was a kid, and my parents were still married, my grandpa was kind to my mother. He treated her like a daughter and never said a bad word about her (at least in my presence) after my parents divorced.

When I was a kid, my grandpa made breakfast--biscuits and thick gravy--and it was delicious.

When I was a kid, I sat in the living room on Saturday afternoons and watched Westerns with my grandpa until he fell asleep in the recliner.

When I was a kid, my grandpa was a dedicated family man and madly in love with my grandma. Theirs was the most loving and generous marriage of my entire family.


When I was a kid, my grandpa retired and took up video games. Together, he, my cousin, and I played hours of Mario Kart, Tomb Raider, and Resident Evil. Later, my grandpa took up the Metal Gear and GTA series and, as far as I know, played every Tomb Raider sequel. Whenever I visited, he would hand me the controller. "Ashley, can you get through this level? I can't get through this level." At this point, he was better at video games than I was. My only hope was the internet and the 1999 version of walkthroughs--we didn't have the YouTubes back then, kiddos.
Eventually, I got busy with high school and college and my own marriage. I moved out of town and my grandparents did as well. The tumultuous relationship I'd always had with my family became a relationship more of silence than anything else. It was my choice.

My grandpa died today. And I live three thousand miles away. The funeral is Friday, in Kentucky, but I live in California and, the thing is, I'm awful at funerals. Even if I could go, I would be useless and awkward. I think, "I'll send flowers." And I go to the "Sympathy" section of the flower-ordering website. But nothing seems adequate. Pale bouquets with pastel ribbons seem dreary and depressing. My grandpa was not dreary and depressing. He was cheerful and stalwart, tough and vibrant. The carnation wreaths, rose crosses, and dusky sprays all look... Damn it they all look like funeral flowers and funeral flowers mean that someone has died and then I realize again and again that my grandpa died today.

My grandpa died today and my friend Jim, a Jesuit priest, contacted us to see if we could go out next week. Scott answered that we weren't sure, that we'd just had a death in the family. Jim offered his condolences as a friend and his services as a priest--could he say my grandpa's name in his Mass this week when asking for prayers for families? I replied yes and then, as I said my grandpa's name out loud, I burst into tears.

My grandpa died today and I am still the little girl who cried into his shoulder.








Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Fair Haven On Wheels

 
Alright, it's been ALMOST a month since I've written a post. I do apologize. 


Basically, I'm working under a deadline and working on two projects at once. Here's a still from one of them:
And here's a still from the other:
I've been writing or working in some other fashion about 10-12 hours every day. When I've not been writing I've been doing regular AshleyRose things like eating and sleeping and knitting and going to the gym and playing the new Borderlands game and celebrating the seventh anniversary of my wedding and... putting together a bike.

This bike--this bike. Oh man, let me tell you about My Nightmare Schwinn. Basically, since we moved to our latest place, I've been seeing bicycles, thinking about bicycles, wishing I had a bicycle etc etc. I finally picked one that I liked and that wasn't too pricey (for a bike) and I said, "When this (financial goal that I set for myself) is done, I'm going to get this bike." And then I worked and did normal me things for a few weeks and suddenly I'd reached that goal. I went over to the Walmart website (I know, I know) and tried to get my cheap Schwinn (I know, I know) and it was... out of stock.

Ok, that's alright. I spent about another week trying to figure out whether I should find another bike or wait for that one but I ended up really liking the Schwinn Fairhaven. I like that it's kind of Dutch-style, kind of vintage, kind of easy-looking to ride. I gave it (likely unwarranted) bonus points for sharing a name with the fictional, holodeck town the Voyager crew all love so well.
Yep.
I realized this thing wasn't going to be a feat of engineering or even probably a well-loved treasure that would last me several years. I realized this was a Walmart bike. But, I've heard of Schwinn bikes my whole life and my needs were few and simple:

1- Not too expensive.
2- Comfortable to ride--as I haven't ridden a bike in about 15 years.
3- Not bad to look at.
4- Would get me around my little, bike-friendly neighborhood a few times a week as stress relief and fun.
5- Not awful to put together. I've assembled A LOT of Ikea furniture, art supplies, and full-scale theatre sets so I was pretty confident but I didn't want a huge headache.

The cheapo Walmart bike I had when I was a kid completely served this purpose. I figured this one would too.

Man, was I wrong. The bike was shipped to my house in a big box (which I expected) and all of the parts, bolts, nuts, and little washers were free floating and not bagged or bunched together at all (which I did not expect) and the only way I found one of the washers was that it was stuck to the packing tape on the outside of the box. I probably should've just stopped right there. But, optimistic as ever, I sallied forth.

 I soon discovered that I would be needing an allen wrench and perhaps various other tools I didn't have (no my vast collection of Ikea allen wrenches were the wrong size) but I couldn't be sure until I got there--the Schwinn manual is a manual for basically every big box bike you can buy. There's a lot of, "If you have this type of seat, you'll need to do x, y, z." I eventually found a Schwinn Cruiser manual online and it was marginally more helpful.

Look at Past AshleyRose. What a sucker.
Anyway, once I got some of the stuff put together and resigned myself to a trip to Home Depot for an allen wrench, I decided to try and put more of the bike together to see if I needed anything else. Turns out, I did. The nut holding the front fender on had gone missing. So... I had to go off to the Home Depot with my little bolt and find a matching nut. This is a pain in the ass--even though I really like Home Depot.

I did all that. I came home. (By the way, I don't exactly have time to just run back and forth to Home Depot or Walmart or whatever--remember all that stuff I was going on about a million years ago at the beginning of the post?) This afternoon I decided to put the front fender on. It doesn't fit. Not even a little bit. It will bolt to the front fork and it'll bolt to the little holes next to the tire but, once it's on, it brushes against the tire. It's crooked. Just like the Schwinn sticker on the front, which is kind of... glued on all wonky and messy. I figure, hey, I live in the desert, and it never, ever, ever rains here so I probably don't even need a front fender. I get on and give it a shot. The seat rocks back and forth. No amount of bolt tightening (while the seat is on the bike and therefore testable) will happen. I have to take the seat (quick-release) out and put it in my lap to tighten the bolts. (I scraped my finger in the process--which is probably my fault, in fairness, but still.) So now the seat doesn't rock back and forth. I put it back on. I get on. Now the quick-release has loosened up. I have to tighten that again. Over and over.

Is the bike rideable now? I mean... I guess? 

I keep having this dream of taking a de-stress ride around my neighborhood, on my lovely bike, with the breeze in my hair and probably some Standard Urban Groceries in my panniers.

Basically, this.
As of tonight, the Schwinn Fairhaven (aka- My Nightmare Schwinn) is put together well enough that I can--mostly--ride it. I gave up on the front fender--which makes the whole thing look (even more) silly, but I guess I can live with that.

This process--from the time the tattered box arrived on my doorstep (crushing the box of Borderlands The Pre-Sequel, which arrived the same day--this is the carrier's fault but I feel like I should've taken it as a sign) has taken eight days but feels significantly longer.

So, basically, I'm just wondering when the Holodeck will put a bike (and a town, and standard urban groceries, and an Irish pub) together for me so I can finally enjoy my dream bike ride.

No time to think about it now though. Back to work. Hopefully it won't take a month for me to get back here.


About A Year Ago: Affairs of the Holographic Heart


Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Making The Choice

So last week I wrote one post. And it was all about how Gene Roddenberry was a big d-bag. At the time, I was already stressed out with a lot of general life stuff. Not getting to do my Shakespeare camp this summer, not getting to go home and spend time with my family, dealing with injuries and illness, worrying about regular grown-up human things, now working on two big projects and then having to cancel a trip home at the last minute really got to me and writing that post just pushed me over the edge.

I suddenly felt like I couldn't write. I couldn't blog. I couldn't paint. I couldn't work on anything.

My head was spinning.

I wanted to retreat into a cozy hole in the Shire and read The Hobbit and eat scones and sleep until all this stuff was over. Just let the storm pass.

But the storm won't pass. I'm at the eye of the hurricane. I made this storm and, wherever I go, I take it with me. It won't stop until I make it stop.

So, over the last few days, I sat down with some bribe cookies and tea and made myself work. I pushed through the big problem I was having in one manuscript. I worked many, many hours trying to nail down the art for another one and I've just about got it. I can move on with these things now. Last night I went to bed in the knowledge that the storm had lessened.

This morning though, I was still upset about the blog, Star Trek, and the whole "Roddenberry was a d-bag" thing. I'd always known that he wasn't great to be around but I intentionally shied away from the gory details. Reading the interview with Gerrold, and then having to really think about it as I wrote a post, I couldn't get away from it anymore.

And, after a couple of days, I realized that all this stuff had sort of hurt my enthusiasm for this blog and, maybe more disturbingly, for Star Trek.

I realized at the beginning of this project that I didn't want to do something that condemned or harshly criticized or snarkily made fun of something I've always loved so much. I wanted this project to be about optimism and the love of something. About focusing on the good that Trek brought into my life, the way it has been my third parent, my therapy, my solace on a bad day.

I logged into Blogger this morning for the first time in a week and found a comment from a reader who'd read the awful details about Roddenberry's behavior and said, "I couldn't let it hurt my love of Trek."

So I guess that's it. It's really a choice. I can choose whether or not the knowledge of Roddenberry's issues affect my love of the show. Star Trek may have been created by Roddenberry but Roddenberry wasn't Star Trek. His personality may have dictated a lot of what went on backstage and what made it onto the screen but even he couldn't get in the way of a good, meaningful story. And, like I said in the previous post, TV is a collaborative business. A whole lot of hands went into making Trek and thanks to that "many cooks" approach, Star Trek was a show that portrayed an optimistic future and a group of people all trying as hard as they can to do the right thing.

Sometimes it falls short. LGBT characters are painfully absent. Female characters are often victims rather than capable crewmen. Sometimes people turn into salamanders and leave their miraculous offspring on some podunk planet in the Delta Quadrant.
What I'm saying is, Star Trek is not always perfect. Its creator certainly wasn't. But, I can still love it. I can still cherish what it has given me. I can still carry on with this project, knowing that one man couldn't make or break the greatness that was Trek.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Mirror, Mirror: Roddenberry's Goatee

Over the last day or so a few readers and friends on Facebook pointed me to this article on Blastr about how awful it was to work with Gene Roddenberry--the fact that he had a substance abuse problem and that he often deferred to his lawyer about important story matters on TNG, etc. The full interview, however, from TrekMovie is a much better, fuller read.

When I first saw the Blastr article popping up in my feed, I didn't even read it. Still, I somehow knew from the title, "Star Trek Writer Reveals Ugly Side of Working with Roddenberry on the Sci-Fi Classic" that the writer in question was most likely David Gerrold. I saw Gerrold speak last year at Star Trek: Vegas and he's a really candid, interesting, intelligent dude. He's always been very outspoken about what it was like to work on Trek and his opinions about the different courses the show has taken over the years etc. So, it didn't surprise me at all to open up the article and see that it was Gerrold who was speaking out about Roddenberry's issues.

Everyone is human--even the guy who invented Spock--and unfortunately it turns out that Gene wasn't so much a great guy to work for as he had a great idea for a show and then was dogged enough about pursuing it to actually get it on the air and make it exist for everyone. But... was he great to be around? No.

The thing about writers (and a lot of creative types, really) is that they're often awful people. I would have wanted to smack Charles Dickens every time I looked at that guy if I'd known him or been married to him or if I was his shoeshine boy or whatever other Victorian nonsense he got up to. It's the same with a lot of my favorite writers (and here's a great article about why) But I love Dickens' novels. His work gives the impression of a man thoughtful and gentle, caring more about others than himself but, in his private life, he apparently couldn't help being a complete ass. The thing is, authors get to be assholes in the privacy of their own home. Like me. I work for myself. The only people who have to listen to me whine and complain and act like a crazy person are my husband and Bunny. But--TV is a collaborative business. And, beyond collaborative, it's public.

As an author/artist, I write a book or a story. I give it to the editor at my press or the editor at a lit mag. They have some notes. I make them or I don't. I give it back. They publish it or they don't. A handful of people read it. Occasionally someone will write to me and say they like what I've written and my day will be better for it.

In TV, you work in a room full of people and hand that work off to other people who then hand it off to yet more people who then make it into an episode of TV with a bunch of other people. Your script passes through a ton of hands by the time its made. And everyone has opinions and input. Then, its aired and potentially millions of people will watch it on that first airing alone. Reviews are written. Folks write letters. Etc etc. The point is, there are about a hundred cooks in a very small kitchen and everyone's trying to make the same dish but they're not all using the same recipe. We, the audience, get the final product--presented to us by a single chef, for good or bad, as if he were the only one behind the kitchen doors.



In the midst of it all, for someone like Gene, you're operating from a place of fear and, as Picard says in Devil's Due, "Fear can be a powerful motivator." As the creator and show-runner, all of TNG's failings and successes were placed on his shoulders. Star Trek had already been cancelled once and Roddenberry'd had his baby taken away. Now, they were giving it back to him. Things seemed to be going well but my understanding about the resurgence of Trek is that TNG was always in danger of being cancelled again--until about the fourth season. After Roddenberry was already knocking on death's door and had apparently, for the most part, taken leave of the show.

Does the fear, the drugs, the deferring to ridiculous lawyers or whoever else Roddenberry was listening to make his actions toward Gerrold and the other Trek writers right? No. Absolutely not. Roddenberry was the captain of the Trek ship and, in many ways, he failed his crew. He wasn't living up to the standards he wished his fictional captain to portray on screen. Picard would never ignore the most basic needs or most important thoughts of his crew. But the guy behind Picard did. Jean Luc Picard is stalwart, even-tempered, and righteous--always standing up for what's right. Maybe the character was aspirational for Roddenberry. The portrait of a man he couldn't be.



As for Gerrold, he went on to do lots of other lovely things. And now, like me (only successful) he writes books. His editor or publisher have opinions but Gerrold has the final say. He's the only cook in his kitchen and I get that. He's given himself the power to operate without fear. He's won Nebula and Hugo awards. I get it. I get wanting the freedom to write whatever fearless idea you come up with. I just wish that kind of fearlessness hadn't come up against such heavy opposition. Star Trek was always supposed to be a show about fearlessly breaking boundaries, exposing injustices, and doing the right thing even when it's the hard thing. It's too bad that, behind the scenes, it was much the opposite.




This article has brought out a lot of talk about how Roddenberry's vision for new Trek made the show boring. I'll address this, and Gerrold's depressingly never-shot episode "Blood and Fire" in another post later this week. Also soon to come: The Trek/Bechdel Test #3.






A Year Ago-ish:  Voyager Season 1 Essential Episodes


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