Nerys Ghemor wrote:
Yeah, I particularly enjoyed the one with McCoy, Spock, and Scotty all meeting. I especially loved the way you worked with McCoy--that definitely seemed like the kind of kid he would've been!
Thank you! McCoy's not my "main" character, but I really am continually intrigued by his backstory -- it's really compelling for a lot of reasons.
One of the most interesting things about the Junkyard Dog story was that you could hear the local speech coming through in the narration as well as the dialogue, but without being obnoxious. I'm curious, have you spent a lot of time in Scotland or something?
No, I've never been to Scotland. ::chuckles:: Actually, I've only even been out of the US once, and that was just over the Canadian border when I was a child. But I much appreciate the comment -- one of the peeves I have is when authors (Vonda McIntyre, I'm looking at you
) go and write this massively overblown accent for Scotty. Heck, his is really fricken tame
, though that seems to prompt yet more people to complain about it. As to how I wrote it, I tried to stay pretty true to the regional accent of Aberdeen, and hear it in my head, and not go to any particular extremes with it. Thank you!
Nerys Ghemor wrote:
You mention that Scotty would probably relate only to Spock. But it also occurs to me he'd have something in common with the crew of the Bozeman as well.
I did? ::blinks:: I might have somewhere... Actually, I dunno even how well he would relate to Spock and McCoy (and they're both people he holds some extra-measure loyalty to, though for different reasons), after they lived seventy-five years he didn't; that would take some mental acrobatics to come to grips with. Still, out of anyone in the 24th century, he'd relate most quickly to them for obvious reasons -- shared experiences, events, being a part of the same crew for many many years, and sometimes even through life and death.
It's true that the Bozeman
is another temporal anomaly from a common era, but aside commisseration about the circumstances, not likely enough to overcome this entirely massive (fan ploy) sea-change. There's a lot to the answer, but it still comes back to the same questions: How do you define yourself? What's your purpose, your reason to keep breathing? What do you do, when you've lost everything you love? Most TNG-era authors who use him forget to ask -- they skip any of the rather intense questions that humans ask the universe or God or fate or whatever higher power when things go wrong, and automatically assume that he'd be fine fairly quickly. They don't think to ask what the real effect was of losing the Enterprise
(no A), even though it was a willing sacrifice for Spock's sake and a better death for her than a boneyard in his mind, or losing his nephew, and then having the Enterprise-A
be decommissioned, or having to break the bad news about Kirk (which either he or Chekov would have) to those who were far closer to the Captain. Nevermind just how different the universe was, from the time of the five-year mission and exploration and innovation, to the time of politics and more politics.
There's a whole lot to the answer, but mostly it lies in asking questions and not trying to skip over them and assume that all will be peachy keen. I know how I see things happening, and eventually I'll write to that point, but I'd probably be thrilled if anyone even really put forth a genuine, thoughtful and compassionate effort that turned out totally different. At least that would be an effort to look at a man, and not the cliches or the cameo potential or the stereotypes, and you can never go wrong with that.
I mean, look at how you got me to see the Cardassians in a completely different light!