Star Wars & Me, Episode 2: Attack Of The Girl

I imagined a lot of stuff when I was a kid. Space battles, fantasy worlds, robots and dragons and hobbits oh my.

Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and Transformers, with their mix of myth and pulp sci-fi, and their almost entirely male casts, made the tentpoles of my imagination. They made me want to tell my own fantasy and sf stories.

But for all that, I didn’t often imagine, y’know, women as heroes.

In 1992, I read a little something called Heir To The Empire. And I have to credit Timothy Zahn, to this day, for Mara Jade. Fighting compulsion for free will, shading between light and darkness–Mara’s journey was one of the first epic, serious tales I read for a female character. She wasn’t overly sexualized, or made a plot device for the male characters. She was everything good about Luke, Han & Leia, and the Thrawn trilogy worked because it was her story.

However, after I’d read enough of it, the Expanded Universe became… ah, unwieldy is a good word.

So is lumbering slobberbeast created by a barn full of drunk writers only allowed to refer to each other by call signs.

Three years out, in 1995, I stopped drinking from the fire hose of EU novels and comics. Not before, though, I gave, I not you shit, young Jedi, a presentation explaining the EU to my high school freshman English class.

After that presentation, the girl I had a crush on actually walked with me to the bus, and talked to me for the first time. I was fairly shocked. Hadn’t I just outed myself as the world’s biggest nerd? It never occurred to me, even though I had Mara Jade to guide me, that my crush could 1) be a nerd herself, 2) actually find someone interesting when they expressed their passion, no matter how nerdy, or 3) a combination of the two.

Here is where it would be nice to say “Reader, I married her,” but no. I stuttered through one or two conversations with her.

Instead, I decided that conventional wisdom had to be right. Girls didn’t dig nerds. I traded the EU for neo-Beat cool. I dropped all my regular comic buys and dialed down the nerdiness in all aspects of my life for a while. (This is why I am the only fantasy writer in the world who never played D&D. )

Based on religious programming, cultural programming, and yes, the lack of women in the stories I grew up on, I ignored Mara Jade and bought into the idea that women were like another strange race of beings, and couldn’t understand the nerdy boys’ world.

And then, as hope was lost and nerdiness lay fallow behind pseudo-cool, the prophecy came true.


Okay, sonny, you really have to try to understand how COOL that sounded.


For this movie, I accepted that I would go full nerd again. I waited for the midnight show tickets. I watched Empire Strikes Back a good thirty times in the months leading up to Phantom Menace. (I also watched Trainspotting, to brush up on young MacGregor, and learned the hard way that one wasn’t much of a date movie.)

I saw it aaaaaand…

I loved The Phantom Menace!

At first.

Specifically, I loved the bit setpieces. I maintain that Episode 1 has the shape of Star Wars–cool lightsaber fights and a space battle and a podrace–but after the fourth showing, there was no soul behind those set pieces. All the story beats felt wrong. Why were we wasting time on midichlorians and trade agreements? Why was the movie about Qui-Gon, with Obi-Wan relegated to a supporting player? Why was Jar-Jar such a one-note doofus, with zero redeeming qualities?

The story, if you really squinted, was a good one–young Anakin Skywalker, a slave with nothing to his name, becomes a Jedi and helps save the galaxy. But it didn’t flow! The characters didn’t connect the right dots! This obscure dude  Timothy Zahn was able to write a realized, complex character like Mara Jade, and George Lucas couldn’t make Padme and Anakin interesting?

I began obsessively rewriting the movie. In retrospect, it was very good for me as a writer, if not as a Star Wars fan.

My experience with Episode 1 was more positive than negative. It showed me that I was going to be both a normal successful adult and a raging nerd and that there was no way around it. Sometime in 1999, I realized that all people, men and women, worked on a balance between a dreamy-eyed kid and a practical adult.

(I soon had the Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, X-Men and Spider-Man movies to make things better, although not entirely on the female representation front.)

So when I met a girl in college who liked comic books, and we were having a good time together, and I was trying to 1) keep the fun times moving, and 2) find out just how nerdy she was, I asked the fateful question.

“You want to see my Star Wars toys?”

She did. This time, reader…


She doesn’t even like Star Wars, and here’s the crazy thing: it’s because she felt pressured to like it as a teenager. She’s a raging geek otherwise, who loves anything animated, tried to change her name to Harley Quinn, collects Legos, and still makes a fortnightly trip to the comic store with me.

My wife might not get it, but she and I both owe a little hat tip to Mara Jade, now erased from canon, but not my heart, and my mind.

Star Wars & Me, Episode 1: The Nerd Awakens

My first Star Wars movie, my parents tell me, was Return of the Jedi, in 1984 on a pirate VHS copy, before the mass release of the film. According to my folks, who had obtained the tape through dubious means, I jumped up and down excitedly, spewing out explosion noises through the entire battle on Endor and finished the film draped in a sheen of sweat.

I don’t remember this.

My first memories of Star Wars occurred after the fateful viewing, and they are of playing with the figures and knowing who the characters were, creating scenarios where Han was hunted by Bossk. At no point do I remember realizing, hey, Star Wars is a thing.

And that might be the best way for me to explain the effect of Star Wars on my psyche. Star Wars is a Jungian monomyth, or so people say. In my case it’s literally true; it’s seared into my unconscious.

I was really sick when I was a kid. Celiac disease was way underdiagnosed in the 80s, so when I was about four I lost all my energy, puked all the time and looked like a famine victim. My first memories involve: a) throwing up after eating pancakes, b) being too tired to move around, because of said throwing up, and c) watching Transformers and playing with Star Wars toys when I was too sick to move.

Most of my memories of the house we lived in circa 1984 are of the bathrooms.

I didn’t become a big geek because of celiac, but it certainly helped. My body didn’t work well, but my imagination worked just fine.

The gluten-free diet worked, mostly, as I got older, but I would never be a jock, or even someone comfortable in his own body.

I watched those bad pirated tapes for years, until we could tape the films off TV, and eventually, (gasp) buy our own VHS boxed set. But films pshaw; I remember the toys. THE TOYS. We now take for granted the cross-promotion in cartoons, movies, comics and TV that was only made possible by Ronald Reagan and the FCC in the 80s.

The hardware store had a row of Star Wars toys, as did Walgreens and just about every other store at the time. Every time my dad had to buy anything, at any store, I could usually talk him into a toy.

The paradise didn’t last. In those days, the thought of an ever-present toyline without media tie-ins was crazy. I still remember the moment when my baby brother bit the head off one of my last surviving toys. THE PAIN. THE TOYS.

I still collect toys, and I’m conflicted about them. On the one hand, they’re money drains that I don’t pummel to death like I did when I was a kid, and they draw on vast quantities of petroleum and take advantage of the poor. But when I see a rack of Star Wars toys, I am five again, and my imagination is suddenly the best place to be, way better than this lousy physical world.


“Clockwork of Sorrow” & “About The Bear”

I have two new stories out!!!!!! THE EXCITEMENT!!!!!

The first is “About The Bear,” a flash fiction at Podcastle, who also published The Child Support of Cromdor The Condemned.  Podcastle had an open call for stories about bears. Truthfully, they had a pun-tastic call for stories about bears. “Pawedcastle is seeking koality stories that will not be polarizing.”

I love that sort of stuff.

I wrote the story in about an hour. It was a simple matter of mating a true story, about a friend who wrestled a bear (not kidding) with a fantasy world I have been working in for several stories and a novel.

The reader absolutely slays it. And you get to hear four other fantastic bear-themed stories, plus my pun-tastic list of previous credits. I’ve been published at The Magazine of Furtasy & Science Furtion, Urson Scott Card’s Intergrowlactic Medicine Show, etc…

Um. You get it. Bear pun.

Clockwork of Sorrow was written entirely for the great anthology Ghost In The Cogs from Broken Eye Books. This was a fun prompt: steampunk ghost stories. I was really happy to be part of Broken Eye, which puts out wonderfully creepy books with amazing covers. Look at that cover! Holy crap dudes!

This story ties into my novel The Great Faerie Strike, and takes place in the same world. The novel is still being shopped around, but you can get a glimmer of how the world works in this piece.