I must be losing my mind. It could be that I have been writing too many stories cantaining my "Mary Sue" Dr. Laura Masters. At first it seemed harmless. I mean, why should Captain Sisko be the only one who gets to talk to the Prophets? And certainly the Galaxy is big enough for me to have a shot at saving it once in a while. Yet I was not aware there was a price to be paid.

It was a typical night that I was watching a particularly bad episode of Voyager. It had something to do with a "Talking Bomb." Don't get me wrong, I love the movie "Dark Star," but it was a stupid idea for a Trek episode.

"Rather dumb, isn't it," a voice said.

"Sure is," I replied. I turned my head and was shocked to see a woman standing next to me wearing a Starfleet uniform. She was a woman in her mid 40's, 5'7, beautiful brown hair, and attractive figure. The medical insignia indicated she was a doctor.

"Who are you, and what are you doing in my home?"

"Really, Debra. It's me, Laura. Why don't you recognize me? You created me, didn't you?."

"I must be hallucinating."

"You don't have to insult me, Debra. Certainly you could have thought of something more imaginative than that. Maybe I am an entity that has taken the form of your 'Mary Sue' character. You know, like 'Isabela' in the TNG episode 'Imaginary Friend.' The answer is really simpler than that, but you must admit it was a better thought than a hallucination."

"Goddess! I am losing my mind!"

"Not at all. I am a psychiatrist, remember. I would know if something was wrong with you. Q warned me that you would react this way."

"Q! He is a fictional..."

"Of course, silly. Don't you realize though that the more you write about a character, the more real they become? This is especially true with Mary Sues. Do you mind if we talk?"

"What about?" I said, not really caring anymore that I was talking to something out of my own mind.

"Deb, I want to say that I appreciate the wonderful job you did in creating me. At least you didn't make me into another Wesley Crusher. You know as well as I do that he was the least liked character on Star Trek. He was too perfect for a teenager. I am very proud to be your avatar. I just have one little problem."

"Uh what is that?"

"Your last story. Don't get me wrong, Deb, I think it is time that lesbians were represented in Trek, and I have no problem being one. You know as well as I do that TPTB are not going to take a chance offending their audience. If Roddenberry was still in charge..."

"So, what is wrong?"

"You had me make love to that Klingon woman. Granted, I was attracted to her, but that Klingon Mating Ritual almost killed me. I don't think you would have survived it."

"Probably not..."

"Well, at least you didn't have me make love to a Ferengi, or Morn."

"Yuck! That would be horrible!"

"It sure would."

"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Yes there is. I loved the gimmick you used to get me into your Voyager stories. I just hope you don't have any ideas of starting something between me and the Doctor, or worse Harry Kim."

"Why would I do that? How about if you helped Seven of Nine 'explore her humanity'?"

"I thought about it, but you know as well as I do that my medical ethics wouldn't permit that."

"Don't worry, I'll think of something."

"I'd appreciate that."

Some people think fans of Star Trek are a bit strange to begin with. I won't argue with them. I have only been to one convention, and I don't dress up in Starfleet uniforms, like one woman was known to do. However, I am a writer, and I enjoy writing Trek stories, especially those dealing with my "alter ego" Dr. Laura Masters.

Here I was, minding my own business, trying desperatly to recover from my recent visit from a person I
assumed only existed in my mind, and of course my word processor. Sometimes an author's story and/or character does develop a "life" of its own. After all, Star Trek has become bigger than the show itself.

Still, you get sort of worried when you are facing the character you created and she/he is criticising your writing ability.

My character, Dr. Laura Masters is a psychiatrist. She assured me that in her professional opinion I wasn't going crazy, but for some reason that didn't make me feel better. I assume as the author, I still am in control of Laura, but now I am not so sure.

I was watching a Star Trek rerun last night when a flash of light filled the room and suddenly Q was standing in front of me. Q, of course, is the omnipotent and somewhat troublesome character of TNG who plagued the Enterprise and mostly its captain, Jean Luc Picard. Now he was standing in MY living room.

"Excuse me," Q said politely enough. I tried to ignore him. I didn't know how I was going to explain this to my therapist, not to mention my friends. Yes, it was obvious that all I needed was to get out of the house more.

"Excuse me," Q said more insistantly.

Suddenly, I realized I was totally naked.

"Q!" I screamed. "Give me back my clothes!" They appeared neatly folded next to me. "Very funny, Q. Okay, if you really want to watch a woman get dressed, I will indulge you." I reached for my clothes and suddenly I was wearing them.

"I just wanted to get your attention, Debra. Jean Luc was never so rude as to ignore me."

"I always though Picard was too hard on..." I switched off the TV. "That does it. I am losing my mind. No doubt about it."

"Losing your mind? Then you need.." Suddenly I was wearing a straitjacket. "Please, even Worf was not as much trouble as you are..."

"Okay, Q. What do you want?"

"It's your 'Mary Sue' character, Dr. Masters."

"Yes, I figured she had to have something to do with this. It's hard enough to find she has come to life. What did she do, invade the Q-continum or something?"

"Laura is a Q. Most Mary Sues are."

"What do you mean?"

"Just what I expect from a limited species like yours. Think about it. Most of the time when a writer creates an avatar she is the most likeable, the most intelligent, the bravest, the most...well, you get the idea."

"Yes, writers do tend to see their characrers in idealistic terms. Why would I want her to be a loser?"

"Precisly my point. How do you think a mortal could have such outstanding attributes?"

Suddenly, there was a flash of light and Laura was standing there, wearing a bathing suit. "Forgive me. I just got back from my vacation on Risa. I was spending some time with Uhura from the past and..." Laura snapped her fingers and her bathing suit changed into her uniform. "Hmm," Laura said, looking at me. "I guess she didn't take the news very well. Still, Debra is my creator."

Laura snapped her fingers. The straitjacket disappeared.

"Thank you," I said. "I need a drink."

"Ractegeno, Romulan Ale, Strawbery Daquiri?" Laura asked.

"On second thought, make it a grape Kool-Aid."

"As you wish." The drink appeared in my hand.

"Just one thing, Laura. If you are a Q, how could I have created you without being a Q myself?"

"She talkes a while to catch on, dosen't she,"Q said

"We are fictional characters, silly."

"Then how...NO! I don't want to know. Just forget it."

"Tell me, are you sure she isn't a little..."

"I am beginning to wonder, Q. Listen, Deb. You aren't crazy, you are a writer."

"That's supposed to explain these strange visitations?"

"Of course it does. We characters have to protect our interests."

"Your interests!"

"We are getting nowhere, Laura," Q said.

"Patience! It's all very simple, really. I'll come back when you are feeling better and explain it all."

Q and Laura vanished. I wondered for a moment just who was really in charge, the author or her creations.

"You know," I said to myself. "I really should have accepted that Romulan Ale."

Joe Brignillie wiped off the bar as he had done every night for his 11 years at Sandrine's. It was Tuesday evening and the regular crowd had started to thin out early as usual. However this was no ordinary evening. Soon the "others," as he called them, would fill the bar.

It was Mary Sue Night, a tradition started by R.L. Calahan, the original owner of Sandrine's. Calahan was a fledgling writer who at the time was a regular contributer to Asimov's and similar pulps. She also wrote several stories featuring "Nova, Queen of the Galaxy," her personal MS character. About a year ago, Calahan refined her Nova character and published her first successful novel, "Waveriders Of Kalgori."

Before selling the bar, Calahan established "Mary Sue Night" at Sandrine's in appreciation for all she had learned from Nova. It was her wish for various MS's and their owners to get togeather once a month for polite conversation and to get the recognition they deserved.

Unfortunately, things did not quite work out the way Calahan had intended. Many MS's existed in their own private universes and didn't usually venture out into the "real world" very much. In fact, few of them even knew Sandrine's existed. MS's of genre fiction were a different matter. While there was only one "Angel of Saren," there were literal hordes of MS's who'd saved the Federation from the Dominion, made love to Xena and Gabrielle, or rescued Mulder and Scully from a dire situation. The Sage of Andromeda would have been a welcome guest in almost any venue, but the Gerne MS's as a rule were a highly competetive bunch, who often fiercely argued over their domains.

A woman in a Starfleet uniform entered Sandrine's and took a seat at the bar.

"Dr. Masters, Good to see you again," Joe said to the visitor.

"Thanks Joe. How have you been doing?"

"I have been better. Last night a bunch of Trekker MS's and two Babylon-5 MS got into it."

"Glad I missed it."

"Thats what I like about you, Laura. You never cause any trouble."

"What happened?"

"Well, it seems that the Section 31 MS's got into it with the PsiCorps agents."

"Don't tell me. They were arguing over who was the better agent, Sloan or Bester."

"You got it, Doc. The Trekkers were none too happy about Chekov's defection to Babylon 5. You know what I really hate about it all?"

"What?"

"If things get out of hand here I have to call Starfleet security for the Trekkers, Commander Sinclair or Garibaldi for the Babylonians, and, well you get the picture."

"Can't you call the local authorities?"

"Well yes, but there are certain jurisdictional problems."

"I know what you mean. It would be like me trying to treat a wood nymph. I wouldn't know where to begin."

"That's bureaucracy for you, Doc."

"Yep. Say, any Xenites here tonight?"

"No, but Xena and Gabrielle were in last week. They spent the whole time lovingly staring at each other."

"They are lesbians, you know. I guess this is the only place they can come after work."

"Jealous, Doc? It don't bother me none, you understand. In fact, I think it is a shame that they won't allow wimmin like you on the real Trek."

"Yes, I was hoping TPTB would have done somthing with Jadzia Dax, but then she goes and marries Worf..."

"I always wondered about those Trills."

"So have I."

"Say, Doc. See that cute dark-skinned girl over in the corner?"

"Yes?"

"She's a MS from Sliders. I was thinkin' you two might hit it off."

"Thanks, Joe. I will give it a shot."

"Any time, Doc."

...click here to read more about Dr. Laura Masters...

Back To The Metafic Index