Surprise, people: I’m a hardcore science fiction fan.

I’ve been heavily invested in the genre ever since childhood, and I place 99% of the blame for this on my old man. (The other 1% was my natural childhood fascination with all things scientific.) You see, my father read a lot of science fiction novels when he was growing up, and when I was a kid, I rifled though his endless boxes of them. It was here that I learned about all of the classic science fiction writers. Science fiction television and film may be great, but anyone worth their salt knows that the absolute best in science fiction is always found in book form. (And given my disappointment with recent science fiction television, I’ve been delving even more into books lately.)

If it was in those boxes, I read it. I’m sure I’m forgetting quite a few, but just to rattle off some names: Ray Bradbury, Isaac Asimov, Poul Anderson, James P. Hogan, Robert Heinlein, Philip K. Dick, Arthur C. Clarke, Frederick Pohl, Ursula K. LeGuin, Larry Niven, Cordwainer Smith, Clifford D. Simak…seriously, just pick a legendary science fiction author, and I can guarantee that I’ve read at least a few of their books thanks to my father’s collection and the local libraries. My father was also responsible for introducing me to the Dune saga, and I’ve been [Maker] hooked ever since. My home library of Frank Herbert’s works now spans an entire shelf!

I’m telling you, I filled my head to the brim with that stuff, especially hard science fiction. It was so chock-full, it’s a wonder I was able to process other more important items, like schoolwork, eating, and breathing. Even my favorite comic book characters, like Green Lantern, Iron Man, Firestorm, and Adam Strange are all completely based in the realm of science fiction! When I was a kid, no one else was into the genre, but that didn’t really register; in retrospect, I suppose it made sense that the other kids were more interested in sports and video games than a bunch of dusty old books.

I’ve kept up on my passion for science fiction throughout my entire life. I enjoy a wide variety of science fiction television, film, and other media. I’ve also gotten into the “new breed” of science fiction writers over the years, like Neal Stephenson and Timothy Zahn, as well as picking up novels by classic authors that I missed, such as E. E. “Doc” Smith’s Lensman series and the works of Richard Matheson.

Nowadays, science fiction is arguably more popular then ever, primarily in the film and television realms. Regardless, I find myself standing apart from my peers when it comes to the span of my familiarity with the genre. This is not a holier-than-thou proclamation, simply a statement of fact. I’ve just noticed that most of my peers aren’t into science fiction to begin with, and the ones that do enjoy the genre rarely (if ever) explore the breadth of the material out there, especially its written form. (The latter certainly isn’t their fault, as most people don’t read for pleasure these days as it is!) This unfamiliarity can be personally frustrating, as when I try to have engage in conversation about much of this stuff, I get blank stares.

I don’t understand why someone would refer to themselves as a fan of a genre when they have very little experience with it, or sometimes refuse to experience anything but a few small pieces. To use a non-fandom example, it would be like someone who’s read a medical textbook calling themselves a doctor. Now, this is different than being a fan of a specific property within a genre, or even a subgenre. There’s fans of the Star Trek film that came out last year, but who do not consider themselves fans of the Star Trek franchise in general. I’m also not trying to say that any self-proclaimed science fiction should check out and enjoy every new bit of genre material that comes along, either. We all know that like any other genre of fiction, there’s an extreme amount of absolute shit when it comes to science fiction.

Obviously, other hardcore science fiction fans do exist out there, and the Internet would provide the best way to connect with them. However, as with most things, I’m very reluctant to join Internet forums and the like devoted to science fiction. Intelligent discussion I can handle; fanboyism and nerd debates I can not. As we know, that’s what a majority of message board topics devolve into, so I tend to stay the hell out. Another idea would be science fiction conventions, but those can be very scary places. There’s not much left after that, but I’ve gotten along just fine so far, so I’ll just have continue forging the path alone.

Very few people are unfamiliar with the legendary children’s story, The Little Engine That Could. It’s been around in one form or another for over a century, and it’s considered to be a classic example of the triumph of willpower over adversity. It may be a celebrated children’s story, but don’t let the hype blind you: there’s some questionable shit in here.

While numerous versions of the tale exist, today we’ll be examining the version commonly seen in book form, retold by “Rowdy” Watty Piper. (That’s not even a real person, mind you; it’s just a pseudonym used by the publisher, Platt & Munk.) Even more specifically, we’re using the 1976 Golden Anniversary Edition, with illustrations by Ruth Sanderson.

(When I was a little kid, I had the 1961 edition with illustrations by George and Doris Hauman, but that’s been lost to the sands of time. I even had a 45rpm record of the story, and who the hell knows what happened to that thing.)

Anyway…all aboard!

The story begins as a train filled with toys, games, snacks, and other goodies is heading towards town. Once there, its cargo will be distributed to the local children. Being a children’s story, of course, all of the toys as well as the train’s locomotive are sentient beings, which is downright creepy. And yes…there are clowns. Seriously, check out this creepy little bastard!

You know he’s plotting to knife some kid in their sleep, or drag them down into the sewers below Derry, Maine. But let’s get back to the story. Unfortunately, their red 4-4-0 steam locomotive breaks down right before the last mountain she needs to scale. The dolls, clowns, and other toys can’t repair the broken locomotive themselves, so they have no choice but to hang out and wait for another engine to come along so they can beg it to take them over the mountain. Did it ever occur to them to just send someone back along the train’s route to find help? What if another engine never came along?

Well, their luck holds out, as a Shiny New Engine comes along shortly. While the front end of this locomotive looks like a GG1, it’s got loads of small driving wheels with connecting rods. It’s clearly a steam engine, but of indeterminate type. Anyway, the toys ask the engine for help, and it declares that it’s a Passenger Engine that only takes important adults from place to place. It couldn’t possibly demote itself to pulling a bunch of toys and kids’ stuff! The Passenger Engine takes off, leaving the saddened toys by the rails. What a dick.

After being spurned by the Passenger Engine, the group’s next chance at assistance is a Big Strong Engine. This one’s a 2-6-0 steam locomotive, and he rumbles that he’s a Freight Engine. His job is to haul big machines and printing presses to town, so that adults will have their morning papers and other such necessities. Like the Passenger Engine before him, the Freight Engine also tells the toys to fuck off.

It should be noted that each of the engines that came down the tracks did so alone. This is practically unheard of on a railroad! Sending out a locomotive without any trailing cars is a colossal waste of resources. The only time a locomotive goes without cargo is if it’s in need of serious repair, and even then, it’s always got another locomotive pushing or pulling it. Which makes the tale of the next candidate all the more depressing.

Things aren’t looking good for our group of kids’ playthings. Then, along comes a Rusty Old Engine. An antique 4-4-0 steam engine, this poor bastard’s all alone, too, and he’s lucky to squeak his way down the rails. When begged for help, he says that he can barely get back to his roundhouse for repairs, and he sadly trundles off, leaving the toys in an even deeper state of despair. Cripes, why don’t you make the old goat feel bad about it? Unlike the other two douchebag engines, at least this guy’s not being arrogant. Far from it; he’s fully accepting of his own physical limitations. Still, it’s implied that he’s just yet another engine that won’t do the job, and we should pity the toy train more than him! Is this the level of disrespect we should feel towards our elders?!

Ahem. At long last, a small blue 4-2-4 steam locomotive comes down the tracks. She’s a switcher used at the local yard to assemble trains that bigger engines will take on their way, and hardly the type used to haul cargo over long distances. Still, the toys are desperate, and she agrees to the job, repeating her mantra of “I think I can.” The mountain grade is rough, and the little blue engine strains to her limits. Against all odds, she manages to pull the train over the top of the mountain, and the delivery is made to the waiting children in town.

Happy ending, right? But…whatever happened to the original locomotive that pulled the train? The toys didn’t even bother to send for help, or ask any of the other locomotives to ask for assistance once they got where they were going. They just left their original engine to rot! Disloyal little fuckers, aren’t they? No wonder the Passenger Engine and Freight Engine brushed ‘em off. Perhaps the toys’ reputation preceded them.

As you can see, while the tale of will versus adversity is prevalent, The Little Engine That Could still has a seedy underbelly. The other engines seemed like assholes, but the laziness of the toys is just as clear, and given their ignorance of the original engine, I can hardly blame the other engines’ actions. I doubt they’d want to be worked to death then left behind, either. I pity the little blue engine…she’s in for a rough life, if the fate of the red engine is any indication.

It always bugs me when I see people shamelessly supporting and defending a favorite creator, actor, or other celebrated personality no matter what they do. For example, if an author writes an excellent book, does that mean that all of his or her other books or works are automatically good, as well? Of course not, yet far too many people subscribe to this dangerous belief. (This blind devotion completely explains the popularity of Joss Whedon.)

This is not to be confused with being excited for future projects by a favorite creator; the difference is recognizing loss of quality when it applies. No creator has a perfect track record; everybody’s human, after all.

I’m a fan of writer J. Michael Straczynski, especially his work on Babylon 5 and Rising Stars, so I was eager to check out his take on Spider-Man in the early 2000s. Well, it started out good…but then it went straight into the shitter. Some JMS fans still praised it as the best thing to the happen to the book; I wonder what was going through their heads, because diehard Spidey fans certainly didn’t agree.

Furthering the comic book example, let’s look at novelist Charlie Huston. He’s written quite a few popular novels; I read one of them (Already Dead), and while I didn’t find it to be awful, I didn’t find it to be great, either. It was just an average urban vampire novel. (And we know how that whole genre has been beaten to death.) Like many other comic book readers, however, I first discovered his work through the relaunch of Moon Knight a few years back. Well, Huston’s novels may be decent…but his comic book work was atrocious. The Moon Knight relaunch read like a crappy Grand Theft Auto clone, focusing on excessive violence and shock value rather than character development or adherence to the source material. Yet, fans of his Moon Knight work automatically praised his novels, and vice versa!

This kind of fanboy loyalism just doesn’t make any sense to me. You’re not bound by law to automatically defend your favorite properties, nor are you required to like the entire breadth of a creator’s work. If they go sour, so what? You gotta take the good with the bad. It happens to everyone and everything. Just ask any Star Wars fan.

Jeez, I even see people defending things they haven’t even seen yet!

After the success of last year’s Star Trek film, it was only natural that Pocket Books would add to their current roster of Trek fiction with novels based on the new alternate reality that had been created. They tapped David Mack, Alan Dean Foster, Greg Cox, and Christopher L. Bennett to write four new books that picked up where the movie left off, and they were scheduled for release starting in May of 2010.

Notice that I said they were scheduled. Mack recently announced on his blog that the books have been indefinitely postponed. Why? In the publisher’s own words:

“With last summer’s blockbuster Star Trek movie, J. J. Abrams created a new vibrant, layered version of the Star Trek universe. After careful consideration, we decided to hold off on telling new stories while J. J. and his team continue to develop his vision.”

Now, the authors in question were saddened by this, but respect the publisher’s decision. While I understand the publisher’s stance, I still find it to be a bit of a slap in the face.

These are some of my favorite modern science fiction authors, so it’s rather grating to see their hard work brushed aside so callously. Trek novels may be non-canon, but that doesn’t make them any less enjoyable. In fact, modern Trek fiction not only fleshes out characters, technology, and history, but it also helps fill in the gaps and rectify inconsistencies in the canon material that can’t (or won’t) otherwise be addressed. The latest Trek film had its share of problems, but I still loved it. It would’ve been great to see how these skilled authors worked within the brave new world that Abrams and crew have forged. New series and movies have never stopped the publishing schedule before, so why change things now, at the expense of the authors and their readers?

If that wasn’t bad enough, now we’ve got a gaping hole in the Trek publishing schedule. There’s other fiction set to be released later in the year, but that’s still a long time to wait to get our Trek fix.

There’s still a possibility that these books may see the light of day in the future, but I’m not holding my breath, to be honest. In the meantime, please support the four authors whose books were unceremoniously dumped! Their Trek works are fantastic, and well worth your hard-earned cash. Get your ass to the bookstore!

Most people I know, including myself, do not enjoy fan fiction, commonly referred to as “fanfic.” Some fans just can’t get enough of their favorite series or characters, and decide to write their own tales to share with everyone. However, like many things on the Internet, fanfics are poorly written, poorly researched, and often descend into sexual depravity. (Don’t believe me? Look up “slash fanfic,” and prepare to be horrified.)

We all created our own stories in one form or another as children. When playing with action figures and such, we created new adventures for our plastic heroes. The big difference between these and fanfics is that they were our childhood adventures. They were created for our personal enjoyment only when we were kids, and never designed to be shared with anyone else. When you’re an eight-year-old, it’s cool when your Optimus Prime and Darth Vader toys teamed up to take down Cobra Commander. When you’re an adult submitting novels about the characters over the Internet in a vain attempt to gain recognition from other basement dwellers…something’s wrong.

Fanfic writers are not a bunch of little kids engaging in playtime. They’re teens and adults, going off the fanboy deep end and writing godawful stories in which characters often behave nothing like their official selves. I feel this cheapens the source material, and in many cases, downright insults the original stories. The cast of Final Fantasy VII were not fucking each other, just as Archie is not fucking Mr. Weatherbee. Get over it.

As a rule, fan fiction is shit. But what happens when fanfics actually become an official part of the series they spawned from? Then where do we draw the line?

A prominent example is the Star Trek: Strange New Worlds series of anthologies. Technically, the stories within these books can be considered fanfic, as they’re all stories written by fans. But at the same time…they’re officially published by licenseholder Pocket Books, making them legitimate Star Trek tales! A few of the contributors to Strange New Worlds have even gone on to become professional writers in the field.

I think the big difference here is that there’s quality control in place for stuff like Strange New Worlds. If a story is crap, it’s going to get thrown out by an editor or their lackeys. Unfortunately, just like with webcomics, that doesn’t happen with fanfics. Anyone and everyone can post that filth on the Internet at their leisure. Entering a contest in which fan-created stories are specifically called for is one thing; writing them up because you can’t distinguish between fantasy and reality is something else entirely.

The moral of the story is this: friends don’t let friends read fanfics. Do yourself a favor, and stay the hell away from them. Your sanity will thank you for it.