I’m here, in large part, because of STAR TREK. My first attempt at “publication” was a self-produced fanzine, a Classic Trek novel that sold a hundred copies – a very small success, really, but one that convinced me that other people were interested in my stories. I produced that first ‘zine back in 1987-ish, and followed it up with several more. Then, in late 1990 I took another bold step in my writing career, with no great hope of getting anywhere.
Little did I know.
I wrote the article that follows at the end of 1991. It was first published in the Trek newsletter Subspace Chatter (Vol. 1, No. 12).
Six Weeks Behind the Wall (Part 1)
When someone offers you the moon, do you turn it down?
I had to answer that question six months ago, shortly after my return home from the bi-annual Seatrek cruise. When Jeannie, the receptionist at my office, buzzed my desk to say I had a call, I thought nothing of it; my old and battered phone was in frequent use, though most of the calls I received during any particular day turned out to be for my boss. This one probably would be, too.
“This is Carol,” I said. “Can I help you?”
An unfamiliar, but warm and friendly woman’s voice replied, “This is Jeri Taylor, Supervising Producer of Star Trek: The Next Generation.”
And a small voice in the back of my head said, “Ohmigod.”
Back in December of 1990, following the guidelines I had read in a number of magazines, I’d submitted a script to ST:TNG called “Bond of Loyalty,” a sequel to the first season episode “Conspiracy.” Before mailing it off, I read most of the script aloud to a group of my friends who pronounced it “excellent,” but the same magazine articles that advised writers how to submit a script also advised that the odds of having it accepted were remote at best. Could ST:TNG possibly be interested in my script???
Nope. Sorry. In Ms. Taylor’s words, “that story just doesn’t do it for us.”
However, she told me, the producers had been very impressed with the quality of my writing. If I had more ideas for stories, I could call her office at any time to arrange to pitch those stories over the phone. She also mentioned in passing that ST:TNG had a continuing internship program whereby (at the invitation of the producers) a novice writer could work at Star Trek for six weeks, watching, listening and learning. Since I lived 3,000 miles away from Paramount Studios, she thought the logistics involved might prevent my taking part in the program, but thought my work was good enough that she wanted to at least make the offer.
I thanked her for that, agreed that I was a long way from Hollywood, and said I would be calling very soon to arrange for the phone pitch.
That was at 2:30 p.m. A few minutes later, the wheels in my head started turning.
Six weeks working at Star Trek? They were offering me a chance to work at Star Trek???
The hell with the logistics. I’d walk there if I had to, and live in a cardboard carton under a freeway on-ramp. At 6:00 the same afternoon, I called Ms. Taylor’s office back and said, “Is that offer still open?”
Yes, they told me. It is.
“When do you want me?” I asked.
Fifty-nine days later, on Friday, August 2, with my friend and fellow Trekker Crystal at my side for moral support during my first brief “say hello” visit, I drove onto the Paramount Pictures lot. Outside the wall that surrounds the studio is a collection of run-down houses and small businesses. Inside is a huge complex composed of soundstages, office buildings, carefully maintained garden areas, a street of “New York City” neighborhood building facades, a large parking lot and about 1,600 people. It’s home to Wings, Cheers, Hard Copy, Entertainment Tonight, Brooklyn Bridge, Dear John, The Arsenio Hall Show, and several other productions.
And, of course, Star Trek.
Our destination was the William S. Hart Building, a small, four-story structure tucked into a corner of the lot. Inside, on the left-hand side of a short, narrow hallway, was the office of Michael Piller, ST:TNG’s executive producer. We’d been told to look for Kim, Mr. Piller’s assistant, and we found her in the tiny outer office of Room 107. Kim welcomed us to Star Trek, offered us something to drink, and parked us in a pair of chairs alongside Mr. Piller’s door. The ST:TNG writing staff, she explained, had gone off to Mexico for the weekend to brainstorm, so I wouldn’t be able to meet anyone that day, but she’d be more than glad to give me “stuff to read” if I was sure I wanted to waste my weekend reading. No problem, I said, though I did wonder what Kim’s “stuff” amounted to.
She came back a few minutes later with a 9-inch stack of paper: the ST:TNG Writer’s Guide, the Technical Manual, a collection of episode synopses for Seasons 1-4, and the scripts for the first ten episodes of Season 5.
Oh, the pain. The hardship. The torture.
If you’re at all like me, you’ve bought some of those same items at conventions and curled up in some quiet corner with them, like a foodaholic with a box of chocolate donuts. Kim was now handing them to me with the same wary air as if she’d asked me to spend my weekend reading the L.A. phone book. But by the time I returned to Paramount on Monday morning, I had delightedly plowed my way through the entire stack.
To be continued tomorrow…