FIGHTING FOR THE GALAXY
Summer, 1996: I was thirteen, and my mom, brothers, and I were living at my grandparents’ house until our new house was ready to move into. It was a good summer for many reasons (sword battles with curtain rods come to mind, for example), but it also marked a milestone in my life:
It was the summer I wrote my first novel.
Holed up in my uncle’s old bedroom with its olive green carpeting and slightly sunken mattress, I spent night after night hunched over my mom’s word processor, listening to *insert 90s bands here* on the radio and composing what I hoped would be a science fiction masterpiece.
Said masterpiece was entitled, “Fighting For the Galaxy,” and was my first foray into the glorious realm of the Mary Sue. It starred 25-year-old Commander T.J. Baer of the Galactic Military, fighting alongside her best friends, Jen and Jessica, against the murderous Sffon Collective. It featured space battles, aliens, romance, betrayal, intrigue, inexplicably bikini-clad maids, and a guy named Rendar. And it was, I felt at the time, the finest thing I – or, quite possibly, any other author in the history of mankind – had ever written.
The other day, while going through a box of old writings, I found Fighting For the Galaxy. And I am here now to tell you that it is both phenomenally bad and completely hilarious. For those reasons, I will be sharing it here on this blog as part of a regular installment I will be calling…
On this page, you’ll find easy links to each installment of FFTG, put in handy chronological order so you can experience the glory and majesty of this ridiculous story in the proper order:
In which we meet our heroes, are told of the future of mankind in the far-off year of 2007, and realize that T.J. is the only person in the whole damned military who is capable of spotting an obvious trap.
In which T.J. meets Rendar, who is attractive but punchable; Jen throws a party (whose attendance should be approximately 5 given the death toll in chapter one); and T.J. is accused of being a Sffon spy, then is immediately sent on a top-secret undercover mission.
In which T.J. and Rendar force themselves to kiss one another for the good of the mission, while Jess delights Jen’s party-goers with the stalkerish tale of how she and Mark began their ooey-gooey relationship of love. Also, there is a space battle, because sci-fi.
In which T.J. and Rendar are attacked by the slowest moving fighter in the history of space warfare, Jessica receives a medal for her tactical genius, and we at last learn the identity of the Sffon spy. (Hint: It’s the guy smiling evilly at the camera when bad news arrives.)
In which T.J. and Rendar prolong everyone’s grief in order to crash their own funeral, our heroes are so involved in dancing, eating, and tongue gymnastics that they fail to notice the earth being invaded by murderous aliens, and Jessica makes a rather egregious boo-boo. And Rendar, to no one’s surprise, still knows nothing.
In which T.J. reveals the rat-infested depths of her psychic dreams, Jess rallies surprisingly well after being riddled with bullets, and the gang gets acquainted with the evil Sffons’ mind-reading computer.
In which Abrigio encounters some difficulties at the hospital, Jessica reaches the dangerous (but oddly trusting) planet Sffonia, and T.J. momentarily forgets that she’s a tough-as-nails military commander and decides to leave her fate in the hands of the attractive but dumb-as-rocks man she’s known for less than a week and yet for some reason trusts implicitly. Because sure.
In which there is a surprising amount of violence from an author who doesn’t even like killing bugs, Jessica discovers the bikini-related downsides of being reunited with her friends, and T.J. gives a moving speech about interspecies tolerance that makes no damn sense at all.
In which we once again visit the alien planet of Sffonia, where T.J. leads a daring escape, Jess makes yet another unfortunate decision that leads to gunfire and general mayhem, and Rendar, Jen, and Mark wander around the city arguing and wasting time.
TO BE CONTINUED…