November 26th, 1999:

 

Whatever Happened to Editting?

 

 

I first encountered the work of Johnny R. Call, creator of Star Trek : Liberator, while surfing the net for some fan fiction that might be to my liking.

I took a cursory look at his front page, and didn't notice any glaring errors in either spelling or syntax. I was astonished, and in a small corner of my mind allowed that his site might be different from the dozens of others I'd already visited.

"Maybe this guy has it together," I hoped.

Thus I forged ahead with his first story, the novella "Reunions and Revelations."

I contacted him by email soon afterward, and our subsequent relationship is solely the result of both his graciousness and his ability to determine the true intentions of a person who has his picture next to the word "abrasive" in Webster's.

I wrote something to the effect of, "Your site is absolutely beautiful in terms of graphics and presentation. As far as your fiction, though..." and here's where you can see I'm not exactly the most tactful fellow out there, "...it makes my eyes bleed."

Well, Johnny responded politely enough, and we got to discussing our mutual dissatisfaction with the direction and quality of the "Star Trek Franchise" (there's that horrible phrase again).

Over time, I realized that he was an excellent example of an aspiring writer: He had a wonderful imagination, and, at times, an excellent turn of phrase; however, his proofreading skills were only a notch above nonexistent.

Granted, we all have our gifts, and they're as varied as we are. I'm fortunate enough to combine an eye for detail (read that, “I’m so anal I should have been in porn”) with writing talent into a natural editorial ability.

Herein lies my problem.

Serious Star Trek fans are invariably quite intelligent. Building a site devoted to Trek is an endeavor requiring determination, focus, imagination and a host of other positive qualities. Why is it, then, that the most important... and allow me to emphasize... the single most important... element of a site featuring fan fiction—that is, the actual fiction—is usually unimaginative, choppy, and, most incomprehensible of all to me, not even proofread?

Obviously even skilled editors make mistakes and oversights; one can open any daily newspaper and find one or two errors on each page. However, there comes a point at which spelling miscue upon punctuation screw-up upon improper use of words becomes intolerable—at least for those of us who still claim to be literate.

Yet many of these sites (which shall remain nameless) win awards for excellence on a regular basis. Who the hell is checking the fiction before handing out the kudos? My guess would be... hmm, let's see... no one.

As you may have guessed, this just kills me. It's an example of the slipshod, style-over-substance, "Image is Everything" [Editor’s Note, January 2004: And, ironically enough, the guy who touts this, Andre Agassi, now has eight Grand Slams: That’s what I call substance] world in which we now live.

I've come to the conclusion that such fiction is praised because most of the people reading it simply don't know any better. That frightens me, because of what it implies—that many Star Trek fans have remained intelligent, but have slowly become ignorant.

And ignorance is something I'll fight to my last breath.

Oh, and, by the way... the spelling error in the title of this essay is intentional. Did you notice it? Did you care?

See what I mean?