by JS Stephens
Copyright © 2016. All Rights Reserved
Comments to:
libriscat@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: This is a creation of my own fertile imagination, using both my original characters and those borrowed from various TV shows and movies. I intend them no hard, but they have not promised the same with me.
List of characters and the first story they appeared in at the bottom of this file.
I felt dizzy and completely disoriented; one moment I was sitting on my couch with my cat, watching a rerun of NCIS, and the next moment I was sitting what appeared to be a large conference room, filled with a number of women. I blinked, slowly looking around, recognizing the faces with a growing sense of unease.
They were all silent, watching me expectantly. I had no idea why I was there, or even were I was. Where could I possibly be that would have women from across time and space? I recognized Xena and Gabrielle, Blair and Jo, Janeway and Seven, Rizzo and Sandy, Kira and Ezri Dax, Darcy and Greta, Paula and Sherry, Rexana and Elethea, Amy and Rachel, D.J. and Randie, Rose and Caitlin, Jesse and Elizabeth, Kelly and Elizabeth, Tara and Emily, Lynn and Jerry, Pamela and Paige, Sharon and Heather, Rosa and Susan, Katherine and Michelle, Tamara and Lisa, Ruby and Laura, Janice and Melinda, and Helen and Brigid.
Gabrielle finally stood up and walked over to my seat at the head of the table. "JS Stephens, I have been elected to question you about your recent behavior," she said, slowly pacing around me. "We, the characters of your universe, are rather concerned about you. We have waited patiently for you to come back and send us on new adventures, but you have failed us." She stopped, looking at me intently with those green eyes. "Further, you have started and abandoned multiple storylines, both for established characters, and for those who have yet to find their finished stories in your universe. Do you care to tell us why you have abandoned us?"
"Abandoned?" I repeated, stunned. "Gabrielle, I don't think I've abandoned anyone, I've just been busy."
"Doing what?" Jo Polniaczek Eagle asked in her sharp Bronx accent.
"Um, real life," I answered uneasily. I noticed that three characters who were attorneys were taking notes and conferring among themselves. They seemed to come to some agreement, and Paula Winstone approached me. "Are you concerned about copyright issues?" she asked. "You have dabbled in fan fiction, using TV and movie characters, in your fiction. Is that the issue? You do have fans who have specifically requested more Blair and Jo stories." Blair nodded in agreement, flipping her golden tresses over her shoulder in a queenly fashion while Jo rolled her eyes.
I scratched my cheek, trying to figure out how to answer the question. Am I afraid of the copyright police? I shouldn't be, these fan fiction sites like Academy of Bards have existed for years without a peep from the various copyright holders. "Not really," I said, fiddling with my silver necklace. "I mean, I did start with Xena fiction, obviously, then branched out into uber. I created my own Uber characters, first with Helen Pappas and Brigid Anderson, then backtracking to create Helen's ancestors, Ruby Bills and Laura Wilkins. I did dabble in some other fan fiction, like Star Trek: Voyager and Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. As Blair and Jo have noted, I did write several stories starring them."
"Yeah, and you parodied me and Sandy before you gave us our own story," Rizzo said dryly, as her girlfriend nodded in agreement.
Gabrielle still stood, arching an eyebrow. "We don't argue with the fact that you gave many of us rich characterizations, or that you gave us additional storylines. We just want to know when you will pick up your keyboard again and complete a story. We're growning tired of waiting to be released back out on the 'Net with new adventures."
Xena cleared her throat. "Gabrielle, if you remember, we're already dead in her universe. We went from childhood to death."
"Xena, I know that, but she could give us some more adventures that happened during our lifetimes."
Rev. Rose Grant stood, waiting for the attention of one and all. As the women grew silent, she said, "First, I'd like to thank the author for what she did write. I feel that Caitlin and I had some excellent stories, and we're pleased at how we turned out. I really like the idea that I look like Halle Berry, personally."
Caitlin Grant stood, taking off her mirrored sunglasses. "My wife is right, we had some really good stories written about us. From California to Minnesota to Texas to New Mexico, we covered a lot of ground. And, as a creative type myself, I can honest say that I can understand some of what JS is going through. I've gone through dry spells creatively, but I had the advantage of a band backing me, and a whole line of songwriters hoping that Harriet and the Heartwreckers would cover their tunes. JS is working alone, and doesn't really have anyone to bounce her ideas off of, to see if they make sense, or to help break through writer's block."
Dr. Elizabeth Green stood, holding up a hand. "Ladies," the tall, dignified library director said, "as the director of a large university library, I can I truly understand why JS has so little time for us these days. Our professional lives are consumed with meetings, committees, projects, initiatives, research, and continuing education. Although we are in different aspects of librarianship, I am quite sure that JS has little time ofr fiction these days."
"Besides, she can start writing on the train again," Amy Spenser pointed out. "That's how she came up with mine and Rachel's story, she was riding the train and thought it would be interesting to have two women briefly meet on a train and fall in love."
"So why not write on the train? Or at lunch time? Or after supper?" Blair asked.
"Maybe she has a good reason for not writing," Brigid pointed out. "There were times I had trouble finding time to write anything for myself, only for work," the reporter added. "So JS, how did you even start writing in the first place?"
I thought about it for a moment, looking at all of the expectant faces. Behind the initial row of women, I realized that there was a silent second row, a row of those who had been birthed, yet not released because I had abandoned them before their stories were told. Chagrined, I started my story.
"Why did I start writing?" I repeated the question. "I had always made up stories in my head, sometimes starring myself, sometimes starring others. The first impetus was watching Star Trek: The Original Series in syndication in the mid-1970's, when I was in elementary school. I loved the idea of Spock, so aloof, so logical, yet so alone. I identified with him, as being an outsider looking in, who did not understand the other children my age. I dreamed grand dreams of being swept away by a transporter beam, going on missions of exploration with the fine crew of the Enterprise. I never wrote down any of these stories."
Greta appeared beside me, smiling cheerfully and pouring me a steaming cup of coffee. I smiled my thanks at the lovely coffee shop owner and sipped the brew, letting the warmth and slightly bitter taste sooth my anxiety. "No, the first writing I really did was poetry. I wrote dark, suicidal poems in junior high, catching the attention of my English teacher, but when I was asked if I needed help, I backed away quickly, not wanting to be labeled as mentally ill. I did promise my best friend that I would never do any physical self-harm, which is a promise I've kept all my life."
I drained the cup, closing my eyes as I remembered those terrible years, feeling like a complete outsider, never understanding normal teenagers. "Like some of my characters, I did the whole youth choir and fellowship thing, mostly to get out of the house, but also because I loved the music. I loved singing anthems, loved the mix of majestic and modern, learning about the mechanics of singing and about performances. I never felt like I belonged anywhere, though, until I was in my master's program, studying library science. I also fell in love with a woman, and had that love returned for the first time, not just experiencing undefined crushes on friends. It was a times, as many of you can appreciate, that you dared not name your love, that you pretended to be straight in order to find and keep a good job."
"When did you start writing fiction?" Darcy asked, adjusting her rimless glasses.
"I started writing in 1995, when, as I said, Xena was on the air. I started finding Xena fiction sites on the internet, and had a little space on AOL that I could post web pages. I was bored at work, and my partner at the time worked nights, and I had the urge to rewrite the episode with Ulysses, thinking that Xena would have never fallen in love with him, especially since she was obviously in love with Gabrielle. It quickly went from a hobby to something more, a way to deal with different situations. From 1998 to 2011, I went through a series of life altering events. My last grandparent died, I went through a merger, I changed jobs, my partner changed jobs, I went through some health issues, my mother died, and my partner started hanging out with another woman all fo the time. That was the last big burst of fiction, finding a way to deal with the pain of being deserted emotionally, and finally having to tell her that it was over after nearly twenty years." I paused, gathering my thoughts again.
Pamela Stewart asked, "Is that why Paige and I got so many chances? You wanted to make things right?"
"Yes, I suppose so," I said. "I wrote to alleviate pain, I wrote to make a better world, I wrote to explore other options. I mostly wrote out of emotional pain, or anger, and frankly, even though I'm extremely busy and stressed at work, my home life is much better. My current partner and I work and play together so well that I don't need to escape into a fantasy life. So there's not the urge to try to rewrite my life now, like I had for so many years. Yes, I still get tired, stressed, or even a little depressed, but it;s not like it was back when. And, yes, I just don't feel like I have enough time to devote proper attention to all of you, when I'm devoting time to my partner and our furry children."
"Yeah, I stopped being able to write as much after I married Rose," Caitlin said softly, looking fondly at her wife, the minister. The musician smiled at me. "I do thank you for letting me get back together with Rose, I feared I had lost her forever."
"To tell you the truth," I said, "I thought I'd lost my faith family forever, but like you, I found it again. I still have doubts and concerns, and my denomination just isn't moving fast enough to accept all LGBTQ worshipers, but it's at least starting to address the issues at long last."
Gabrielle looked around the room, asking, "Any other questions?" When none were forthcoming, she turned to me. "We thank you for your honesty, but we also would like some of your attention. Do you think that you could find a little time to spend with us?"
I sighed heavily, not wanting to let them all down. "I'll try," I said, "I'll do my best."
"That's all we can ask," said Gabrielle, "so start pounding those keys again."
"I promise," I said.
I felt dizzy and disoriented again, feeling like my chest was so heavy that I could hardly breathe. I tried to sit up, slowly realizing that I had been dreaming and that my cat was sleeping on my chest again. Was any of that real? I wondered as sleep started to reclaim me, or just a dream?
I guess I'll never know.
The lineup, which you can find on my author's page:
The fan fiction series: (links to the first story)
The original fiction series (in no particular order)