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…
Of course, today is Thursday, but why split hairs when there’s awful, hilarious pseudo sci-fi to be shared?
Continue reading “Fighting For the Galaxy Fridays”