The Twelve Days of Star Trek Original Series isn’t very good

Nothing says Christmas like moaning about old TV.  I am watching Star Trek The Original Series –  I used to love this when I was ten or so.  It lit up my world with wonder.  Now, rewatching, please send help, because it’s terrible.

I’m not particularly fussed about the terrible clunky sets, the lack of common sense like seat belts, and the fact that it was thirty years behind written SF in addressing either bold speculative ideas, or social issues.  In the Christmas Spirit of putting the boot in, I call in evidence:

  1. The teeth-gritting sexism. Female characters as one episode love interest, professional women constantly characterised as flighty idiots incapable of driving a shopping trolley, women getting no lines except screaming and screwing things up.  The uniform with incredibly short skirts.  Women who get married leave Starfleet.  Everyone wanting to shag Kirk (ewwwww).
  2. The balls-aching line of command. No-one ever has any independent authority.  Kirk has to tell Spock to tell someone to do the bloody obvious thing.  In a real warship, they’d be blown out of the sky waiting for permission to wipe their own arses.
  3. The teeth-gritting sexism can’t be entirely excused by the times. The pilot famously had a cool, competent, strong First Officer who was a woman, and they dropped the character because test screenings didn’t like it.  In the pilot, all the Starfleet women wore trousers and weren’t stupid.  So, don’t tell me the team were prisoners of their time – they backed down under pressure.
  4. Even as a kid I noticed that they sent exactly the wrong people down to the surface, and let’s all face front so the monsters can jump them from behind. Although some nerd has shown wearing a red shirt is not an indicator you are going to die.  Endless terrible decisions.
  5. Broadly racist, white Americans tend to hold all the positions of power. My ten-year-old-me’s crush, Nichelle Nichols, was urged to stay by Martin Luther King; she inspired other black women into TV; I know she’s an icon, but she’s never given that much to do.  Sigh of relief when Uhura’s shown with a soldering iron doing something.  Soldering, not just smouldering.
  6. The science. I don’t mind ‘handwavium’ – I don’t think the point of science fiction is to explain exactly how your faster than light works.  It is the GCSE level science that everyone watching ought to know.  Like, if you bombard a planet with incredibly bright ultraviolet light, aliens hiding in the dark still won’t be touched by it.  Light doesn’t bend round corners.  Humans looking up would be burned or blinded.  Also, antimatter isn’t ‘evil’.
  7. The world seems inconsistent from episode to episode. For example, if you don’t have enough energy to run the warp engines, can you still have enough energy to have shields and full impulse power?  This stuff really matters to the story, different episodes give different answers.  What happens when a nut locks themselves in Engineering, which happens every Wednesday?  Different solutions in different episodes.
  8. Primitive people enslaved by a god/god like computer – three times in the last eight episodes I watched.  Women choosing flightily.  Immortal chasing immortal for all time (twice).
  9. Spock is not that credible a character, Vulcan an unbelievable society, Amok Time might be the worst episode of any science fiction programme ever. Not least because of the teeth-gritting and illogical sexism.   (The modern take – Vulcans have emotions but suppress them, is far more logical, believable, and dramatic.)
  10. Jim, Bones and Spock ‘joshing’ humourlessly may cause cancer and should be banned.
  11. Characters give speeches which are plot points, not consistent with their character.
  12. The story telling is sometimes ponderous, the acting hammier than a pork sausage, but AT LEAST THE MUSIC SUBTLY TELLS YOU WHAT TO THINK. Oh, the Woman is Being Seductive
  13. Bonus point, Chekov is impressively annoying as a character. The Wussians probably agreed to a nuclear arms treaty on the promise Chekov would be frozen in ice for two billion years.

STTOS is optimistic.  It espouses diversity and peaceful cooperation, even if it doesn’t deliver.  It aspires to progress.  Its penal system is based on rehabilitation, the culture aspires to be meritocratic.  Not every episode is terrible.  But sometimes when you go back to something, the river has flowed on.  Nothing ages like the future.

(Apologies to Pigs In Space)

Covers, Edits, Delays

I have some updates coming, but my lovely subscribers will get them first.

I have seen a first draft of the cover art and I love it so much, I am seeking legal advice as to whether I can marry it.  That’s led to Serious Thoughts about Covers.

I’ve got some hot thoughts on Why Does This Take So Flipping Long?  The quick answer is, it does, and if Our Child of the Stars is going to take a bit longer than a typical debut, then it’s with good reason.  Which I explain.

I’ve had my Important Notes off my editor, Jo Fletcher.  Notes are the editorial changes she wants, and this work is underway.  I might write sometime about what this sort of editing is about.  It’s not line or copy-editing, which is fixing semi-colons, tenses, and noticing characters’ eye colour changes.

Yes, this is coming.  Stay tuned to this channel.

Why is Our Child of the Stars based in the 1960s?

Smartphones.  The first novel I completed was a modern adventure with teen protagonists, and I was fed up with smartphones.

No, that’s not a problem, they’d Google.  No, they’d message each other.  No, they have time to text the Mayor that they’re in danger.  No, you can’t use signal problems or running out of battery AGAIN. 

I would’ve gotten away with it – if it wasn’t for those pesky smartphones…

In Our Child of the Stars, it’s true that law enforcement with modern tech would mess with the plot.  But that’s fixable.

Stories come to me, and the setting and period is one of the things that come unbidden.  Sometimes, I need take a step back and challenge my subconscious for being boring or obvious.  This kept feeling like a period piece.

The original short story was written after reading Ray Bradbury, a writer who is nostalgic even when writing about the future.

We mythologise the past, and the Sixties in particular.  It was another country, and they did things differently there.  The novel is posed at that point of high idealism souring, at a time when the wave of change was reaching into further corners.

To write about the past is not to be backward looking.  The book is first and foremost about family. It isn’t a preachy book, but I knew that it would touch on difference – sex, race and sexuality.  It’s about the morality of violence – peace and war, and the dishonesty and power of the state.  The Sixties was a time when all those issues were in ferment, even in out of the way places like Amber Grove.  Arguments exploded and if you look at the news, the pieces haven’t landed yet. Our Child of the Stars does have a nostalgic streak, but also it might make people think, could we have done better?  Can we now do better?  It remembers what we gained as well as what we lost.

Why small town America?  Biggest, it would be easier to hide Cory.  And, I didn’t want to write about radicals in a big city, but peaceniks living in a small town.  Inclusion mattered to me, which is why there are honest, decent people, friends of Gene and Molly, who support the Vietnam war, however reluctantly.  That was part of the tragedy of that conflict.

A book needs a soundtrack.  I write to music.  I knew whose records Gene and Molly are listening to in the original story.  The more I listened to the classics of the era, particularly the folk-protest tradition, the more music became important. It quickly became central to Gene’s character, and the framing of the tale.

There were so many good reasons to go with when I did.  But, also, smartphones.

 

Books I would love to have written

A few years back, I sat down and wrote, unprompted and off the top of my head, in five minutes, the books I wished I had written.   Are these favourites?   They are certainly not perfect, there are cogent criticisms of each of them.  If I had written them, they would have had different faults.  But these were the books that came to mind, without perusing lists of the canon.

  • Northern Lights – (Philip Pullman)
  • A Wizard of Earthsea, and The Left Hand of Darkness – (Ursula K Le Guin)
  • Player of Games – (Iain M Banks)
  • The Handmaid’s Tale – (Margaret Atwood)
  • The Persian Boy, and The King Must Die – (Mary Renault)
  • 1984 and Animal Farm – (George Orwell)
  • Easter – (Michael Arditti)
  • The Sparrow – (Maria Doria Russell)

Revisiting this list recently I added

  • The Girl with all the Gifts – (M R Carey)
  • The Ocean at the End of the Lane – (Neil Gaiman)
  • The Name of the Rose – (Umberto Eco)
  • Binti – Nnedi Okorafor

Commentary on this

  • These immerse you in their world with complete authority
  • Nearly all have great characters you care about.
  • They do tend to address issues however obliquely
  • The only ‘contemporary novel’ is Easter, a satire.  Well, an everything.
  • None of the thrillers, spy fiction, or detective stories make it in.

It is interesting that writers I really rate and recommend do not have a single work that leaps out.

To take some examples, Saki, Borges, Ray Bradbury, Angela Carter I think of as short story writers.  No P G Woodhouse book or story is strikingly better than the next one.

Remember this list is books where I thought, I wish I had written this.  That’s not ‘fave read’ (many are), or ‘most impressed by’.