goonies

Geek Punditry #169: You Can’t Make It Make Sense

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Despite the fact that it’s April already, I’ve only read a handful of novels so far this year. The reason for this, I should point out, is that I spent a good two months on a trio of absolute doorstoppers: first Stephen King’s It, followed by the first two books in Scott Sigler’s Crypt series, both of which are sizable in their own right. After these satisfying – but weighty – tomes, I wanted to tackle something quicker and lighter next. And the choice I made has me laughing in all the ways the writer did not intend.

SpongeBob already did the “ghost ship” thing anyway.

I’ve written before about “Extended Universes,” those non-canonical stories that are set in the fictional universes that we know and love. These are things like the comic book or novel series that spin out of popular movies and TV shows (Star Wars perhaps being the most famous of these), but it also works the other way around – movies and TV shows that adapt or spin out of comics and novels. Looking for a quick read, I decided to go old-school and enjoy the 1988 novel Ghost Ship by Diane Carey, a quaint little historical curiosity in that it was the first novel ever published based on the then-new TV series Star Trek: The Next Generation. And while I can’t necessarily blame Carey for the novel, holy CRAP, is this one a doozy.

The story – set during the first season of the TV show – regards an alien creature that absorbed the life-essences of the crew of a Soviet aircraft carrier 300 years earlier, and who is now endangering the Enterprise. Complicating the matter is that Deanna Troi, the ship’s empathic counselor, can sense the tortured spirits of the Russians inside the alien beast. It’s a perfectly reasonable sci-fi concept, the kind of stuff that we’ve seen in various Star Trek series several times. And it certainly isn’t Carey’s fault that the Soviet Union collapsed prior to 1995, when the sailors in her book were attacked by the alien. The book even tackles some heavy concepts like the nature of life and spirituality, with an interesting side-conversation about whether releasing the “essences” of the sailors from the beast would count as euthanizing them and, if so, if that would be morally acceptable. 

But it’s really hard to take any of that seriously, because the characters in this novel are so far removed from those that we know from the TV series that it’s like reading about an entirely different crew. Captain Picard is stern, overbearing, foul-tempered, and expresses constant regret over the fact that he allowed Wesley Crusher to become an acting ensign. Data’s concerns about his own humanity (or lack thereof) are taken to a nearly pathological level. Troi calls William Riker “Bill.” Perhaps the most egregious line in the novel is a point where Riker glances at Tasha Yar and thinks that her soft features and wide eyes make her look like a “Disney drawing.”

Remember the time Snow White dressed like this?

For people who love the TV show, the whole thing comes across as patently absurd. But again, I don’t think that this is necessarily Carey’s fault, but rather a consequence of the way that books like this are written…or at least, the way they were written back then. In order to get novels like this one in bookstores at the same time that the TV series made it to the airwaves, writers had to start working from early drafts of the screenplays. Even though Carey was telling an original story rather than adapting a specific episode, she had to base her characterizations and mannerisms on what was written in the series bible and early scripts. It’s likely that there were no episodes of the show available for her to watch yet as she wrote the book – hell, it’s possible that none had even been filmed yet. She had to make assumptions based on what she was given. But characters in an ongoing serial like a TV series change and evolve over time, especially in the early seasons. There would have been no way for her to know how they would wind up being played when she started working on this first book. Because of all this, Ghost Ship is even harder to reconcile with TV canon than many of the other novels, not because it blatantly contradicts any plot or world-building elements, but just because the characters are so unrecognizable. 

This sort of thing tends to happen a lot when you’re creating extended universe material based on “official” works that aren’t finished yet. At least one early novel from the Star Trek: Voyager series, for example, refers to the holographic doctor on the ship as “Zimmerman.” People who know the canon of the series know that Zimmerman was the name of the doctor who programed the Emergency Medical Hologram and based its appearance on his own, but may NOT know that at one point in the planning stage of the series the plan was for the holographic doctor to adopt his “father’s” name. That plan was dropped in favor of a sort of running character arc about him trying to choose his own name, but eventually, even that went away and he just went by “The Doctor” for the entirety of the series. 

It also happens in comic book adaptations. DC released a Next Generation miniseries to coincide with the first season of the show, and it featured some wildly out-of-character moments. There’s a scene where Geordi LaForge is (mistakenly, of course) presumed to be killed by Q, and Data flies into a violent rage. Data. The character who is famously emotionless. Now I’ve always believed that even Season One Data isn’t TRULY emotionless – there’s just no way to reconcile a lot of the character beats with someone who genuinely has no emotions, let alone the fact that his dominant character trait is that he WANTS emotions. (Desire, itself, is an emotion, in case you don’t understand the contradiction.) I think it’s better to think of Data as somebody who does not UNDERSTAND his emotions or how to process them, and therefore mistakenly believes he does not have them at all. All that said, Data’s willingness to throw hands just simply does not jive with the character he was in Season One. Hell, it wouldn’t even match who he became by the last season of Star Trek: Picard. 

Again, this is a character defined by his LACK of emotion.

Sometimes, especially with comic books, the differences are visual. One of the most famous examples comes from the Marvel Comics adaptation of The Empire Strikes Back. After adapting the original Star Wars movie, Marvel continued the comic book as an ongoing series, which itself would cause several continuity snarls when the sequels came around, such as encounters with Darth Vader that don’t really make sense in later canon, or scenes that hinted at a romance blossoming between Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia that would later turn out to be particularly squicky for…obvious reasons. But one of the most hilarious of these changes is Yoda, whose first appearance was in Empire. When the Star Wars comic adapted that storyline, artists Al Williamson and Carlos Garzon either weren’t given a photo reference of Yoda to work from or the design of the puppet was changed later. I’m not sure which, but either way the result was a short little goblin with blue skin and long, flowing white hair, a far cry from the Yoda that fans who bought the comic book could see in the movie that was in theaters at the same time that the comic was being published. For later reprintings of the comic, Yoda was re-drawn to more closely match his cinematic appearance, but it’s not hard to find the original panels online for the sake of comparison and – let’s be honest here – mockery.

Including this picture just in case anybody was worried about sleeping too well tonight.

Movie novelizations are typically based on early drafts of the script, which can make it fun to read them and find things that were cut out of the film, then try to determine WHY they were left out. The Goonies novelization, for example, contains a long sequence in which the kids take a ride on a raft along an underground river, making it more plausible just how far away their final destination is from their point of origin. There are a lot of really good character moments in this scene, as the kids talk and discuss their various fears and anxieties, but you can totally understand why such a relatively slow sequence was never filmed for the lighthearted adventure film that the final Goonies became. Similarly, we all remember the scene in Ghostbusters in which Ray Stantz talks about having to mortgage his family home in order to afford the iconic Ghostbusters Firehouse. If you ever want to get into the intricacies of the Stantz family and just how he came to inherit the property in the first place, there’s a whole sequence in the novelization that details just that information, and it would have been boring as hell to relate on screen.

But will audiences understand this if we don’t go over how escrow works?

You don’t see as many of these adaptational oddities as you used to. The lead time for producing movies and TV shows gets ever longer, and not only are there fewer novelizations and comic book adaptations than there used to be, but there seems to be less of an urgency to get them onto the shelves at the same time as the movie or TV show is released. You still have tonal problems at times, of course. Last year David Newton released Welcome to Metropolis, a “prequel” novel to the new James Gunn Superman movie, and although it doesn’t have any glaring contradictions to the finished film, the characters and world just feel “off,” as though they were written by somebody who knew ABOUT the movie, but didn’t actually KNOW the movie.

Kinda like the Diane Carey novel that started this whole thing in the first place, actually.

But although I suppose having these books – when they happen – fit the canon a little better is TECHNICALLY a good thing, I kind of miss the days of wild inaccuracies and scenes where the cold, emotionless Data goes into a blind rage. It was weird, but it was also fun. 

Blake M. Petit is a writer, teacher, and dad from Ama, Louisiana. His most recent writing project is the superhero adventure series Other People’s Heroes: Little Stars, volume one of which is now available on Amazon. He’s also started putting his LitReel videos on TikTok. After Ghost Ship, based on the recommendations of several friends, he has moved on to begin reading Dungeon Crawler Carl. You people are deranged. 

Geek Punditry #80: If You Liked the Movie, You Should Read the Book

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For some time now I’ve had the novelization of the TV show Charles in Charge sitting in my eBay searches, contemplating whether or not I should jump on it.

The first thing they teach you in blogger school is to start a column with a sentence that will compel the reader to continue in the hopes of making sense of what you’re saying. How am I doing?

You see, we live in a time when people like me (nerds) often go back and recapture things from our youth – things that we remember fondly or that tickle a nostalgic button somewhere in our soul. Often these things take the form of toys, but just as popular are other collectibles like trading cards, comics, vintage video games, and – of course – books. So the reason I’m thinking about getting this book, which is oddly enough a novelization of the opening episodes of the SECOND SEASON of Charles in Charge (I later learned that there is a novelization of the pilot I’ve never seen in person), is because I remember getting it at one of those glorious Scholastic Book Fairs that we used to anticipate with the same excitement and fervor as we would Christmas morning. It’s purely a nostalgia thing, friends.

Don’t tell the eBay seller I borrowed their picture for this, okay?

Eh?

Oh, you mean you were wondering why the hell there was a Charles in Charge novel in the first place, aren’t you?

That also goes back to the time period in which I grew up, a magical, halcyon time known as the 1980s. It was a heck of a time to grow up. We had the best music, sodas were clear sometimes, and cigarettes had only been bad for you for like 20 minutes. But that doesn’t mean everything was perfect. This was in an era before streaming services, an era before you could pull up popular entertainment on demand from your remote control without even having to get off your couch and look for clean pants. If you saw a TV show you liked, the only way to experience it again was hope for a rerun. If you loved a movie, you had to wait for it to come on HBO (if you had it) or rent it from these ancient temples that we called “video stores.” You couldn’t even just go out and BUY the VHS tape the way you later could the DVD, because in the early days of home video the studios made the movies prohibitively expensive (nobody in their right mind would – or should – have paid $120 for a VHS copy of The Land Before Time 2) so that most people couldn’t afford to build a home library and, instead, the studios made their money using the video stores as the middleman. Eventually, the prices of VHS tapes dropped and home libraries became a thing, but for much of my childhood if there was a movie you really loved, there was only one surefire way to experience it again whenever you wanted: buying the novelization.

When you need to hear Madonna as Breathless Mahoney, this is the next best thing.

Novelizations have been around almost as long as film, going back to the silent era. In 1966 Isaac Asimov was hired to novelize the film Fantastic Voyage. (He was so disappointed with the result that he came back years later with a “sequel” called Fantastic Voyage II: Destination Brain, which just used the premise of miniaturized scientists going into a human body and otherwise was completely independent). One of the most interesting examples, I think, is 2001: A Space Odyssey. Author Arthur C. Clarke and director Stanley Kubrick collaborated on the story, then Clark wrote the novel WHILE Kubrick worked on the film, so which of them technically is the adaptation of the other? If you ever figure it out, let me know.

But in the 80s, the novelization was huge. I had stacks of them for the formative movies of my youth: E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial, Batman, Dick Tracy, Back to the Future…not to mention the requisite Star Trek and Star Wars books. Not all of them were very good, of course. Some of them were downright terrible. But there was something interesting about reading these books, which were often based on early drafts of the film’s script. The novels had to be written quickly, usually while the film was still in production, in order to have them printed and on the shelves when the movie came out, so if things changed during the production, the novel would sometimes be based on the original version rather than the change. The novelization of the second X-Men movie, for example, is so different (up to which characters lived and died) that you’d be hard-pressed to believe the writer even KNEW anything about the X-Men…if it weren’t Chris Claremont, whose work on the characters in the 70s and 80s is pretty much the main reason that those characters survived past the 70s and 80s without falling into obscurity.

“Claremont! Who the hell is ‘Bolverine’?”

Screenplays often lack the detail that you get in a novel as well, and as such the authors had to conjure up a lot of the characters’ backstory, inner monologue, and other elements that wouldn’t have room to go into in a feature film. Goonies is a phenomenal example of this. It’s a movie that everybody my age grew up idolizing, that we watched over and over again, that became a fundamental part of our psyche. So we all know that the reason Josh Brolin’s character Brandon has to steal a child’s bicycle after his brother Mikey (Sean Astin) lets the air out of his own bike tires is because he flunked his driver’s test. But the novel tells us that the REASON Brand flunked his test is because he suffers from claustrophobia and freaked out about being the car with the driving instructor, a stranger. Overcoming his claustrophobia in the caves becomes an interesting running element through the novel. It also gives us a little insight into what happens to the characters after the movie ends – for instance, Chunk’s parents officially adopt Sloth and give him the name Jason Sloth Cohen at his Bar Mitzvah. It’s adorable. 

Not to mention the subtle suggestions that Mikey is actually the reincarnation of One-Eyed Willie.

And of course, these novelizations were turned out in large numbers, especially the ones for kids. The Charles in Charge book I mentioned before is only one of many such novelizations I got from a Scholastic imprint called Point, which specialized in middle grade books. This resulted in a lot of those aforementioned novelizations, plus an avalanche of the kind of kiddie horror books that would turn so many people into lifelong horror fans, such as the Goosebumps line. It got to a point (no pun intended) that I would actually look for that Point logo at the Scholastic Book fair, as I knew those were books for people like me. In fact, a while back I finally DID jump on eBay to snag one of those old Point books from my youth, their novelization of the Mel Brooks comedy Spaceballs. When I got the book I saw, to my surprise, that it was written by “Jovial Bob Stine.” This name meant nothing to me when the movie came out in 1987, but looking back on it now I realize that this was one of the various pen names used by someone who would soon become a Scholastic legend – R.L. Stine, creator of those Goosebumps novels I mentioned before.

It’s JOVIAL, see. Also hilarious. Says so right there.

Some of these books have become real collector’s items. If you look up the original novelizations of some of the 80s horror movies like Halloween, Friday the 13th, or A Nightmare on Elm Street, you see them going for hundreds of dollars now. Considering the demand, it’s actually really surprising to me that you don’t see them reissued more often, or at least offered digitally. In some cases, I suppose it’s a rights issue (the rights for Friday the 13th are notoriously complicated at the moment), but some are less understandable. DC Comics recently announced a new novel, Batman: Resurrection, which will serve as a direct sequel to the 1989 Batman movie. That sounds cool – but why not reissue the novelization of the original movie to go with it? 

Trust me, geeks will eat this stuff up.

Novelizations are still produced today, but not as many as there were back in the 80s and 90s. A lot of sci-fi movies still get them, but the odds of seeing a novel based on, for instance, the premiere of Abbot Elementary seems fairly remote. Obviously, with the streaming era, it’s not as necessary to have a book to get your hands on the story the way it was when I was a kid. More than that, though, I think that the streaming era has broken down the audience so that these things aren’t part of the cultural conversation the way they used to be. When something like the first few Star Wars movies came out, they were a phenomenon that EVERYBODY had to talk about, had to experience. They lingered in theaters for months, even years, before finally filtering out and making way for something new. That doesn’t happen anymore. A movie lives or dies based on its opening weekend. TV series dump an entire season at once and everybody has forgotten about it a week later. It’s a sad thing, I think, a change that I’m not fond of, but it’s the world we live in now.

So I’ll keep my eye on eBay and keep my finger over that “buy it now” button. I’m not saying I’ll get every old novel I see, of course. I’m just saying that if I COULD, I WOULD.

Blake M. Petit is a writer, teacher, and dad from Ama, Louisiana. His most recent writing project is the superhero adventure series Other People’s Heroes: Little Stars, volume one of which is now available on Amazon. You can subscribe to his newsletter by clicking right here. If you ever see a decent price for the novelization of Howard the Duck, let him know.