Tag Archives: Leonard Nimoy

ek ik pakashogau etek u’yeht’es…

by in Collaboration, Creative Writing and tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

There is nothing new or shocking (to those who know me at all if not well) that I have been a Star Trek fan for as long as I can remember. And while I will not claim to have been to Hell and back, it is probably fair to say that I experienced some trauma during my “formative years”.

I delayed my initial post regarding Leonard Nimoy’s passing by a few days, partly out of respect and partly because I needed time to process. I am still processing. It was his portrayal of Mr. Spock that ironically provided a much younger me with a sense of emotional stability.

The Vulcan way is part of a body of fiction, of course; I do not embrace it as a way of life. It merely informs some of my “navigation”. In all honesty, though I have a lasting affection for Star Trek, it never presented any alien species as a whole and complete culture.

Klingons, it could be argued, are more richly detailed than any others but a ritual-of-the-week and appropriation of Shakespeare makes them just the boldest cypher of the lot. Vulcans run a close second oddly enough. All of the alien cultures started as metaphor and have become stereotypes in their own right.

Within the past few days my ‘processing’ has led to adjusting the schedule of my novels-in-progress. For a very long time I have wanted and needed to write for Vulcans as more than computers on legs from a volcanic desert world.

My very good friend, Leanna Renee Hieber hurried to tell me of Mr. Nimoy’s passing while already rushing between her programming commitments during AnachroCon. She knew what it would mean and took special care to break the news in a kind and gentle way – rather than it coming by way of a stranger’s shouted announcement amid convention chaos. As she made her way to the next panel, I drew a portrait of the actor who played one of my heroes:

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His final words/Tweet compel: “A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP”

Spock’s people are known for their respect for Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations (k’lalatar prkori k’lalatar prnak’lirli) and the IDIC symbol. Gene Roddenberry stated the symbol “has great meaning to all Vulcans”. He indicated that it was somewhat comparable to a religious symbol. Outside of fiction, the symbol itself is 47 years old.

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Comprehension and embrace of diversity still eludes us. Some efforts at celebration of diversity can cost us opportunities for unity. We still need the IDIC.

If nearly every Vulcan we have ever seen is just like Spock why would they venerate diversity? How could it mean so much to them if they were not natively host to quite a range?

All this to say: a novel concerning Vulcan memory, truth, and culture has moved to top priority – at the urging of Ms. Hieber, who will be coauthor of the work. The working title is “All We Now Hold True“. (In the Vulcan language, that is the title of this blog post. Thanks to Britton Watkins for the translation.)

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Zup-tor vu akarshif

by in Creative Writing, Process, Spirituality and tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

Five years ago, the sudden realization struck me that I did not have Leonard Nimoy’s autograph. Given what his work meant to me, this seemed to be a particularly glaring omission from my collection of meaningful mementos. I became obsessed for the next few hours and first looked up how old he’d become. While wishing that he would be free from the eventual constraints of a mortal life – I soon knew that I did not have much time to have a particular book Mr. Nimoy had authored autographed.

Ascertaining if, how, where, when and in what conditions he might be in range of my attendance became an obsession. In the end I did, in fact, get my copy of “I am Spock” signed by one of my heroes – quite probably my first hero – and was able to thank him for his work. He did tell me, “You’re welcome.”

Now he has passed and I am deeply apologetic if this posting is how anyone learns of the news. It was, of course, chiefly Spock that made his career meaningful to me. I was still of single-digit age when I realized something about life – or at least living one – did not make logical sense. I could not define the problem nor solve it. Fictional Spock was not able to explain the situation to Young Me but he did become a role model in how I might handle emotions (my own and those of others) along with handling the irrationalities of this planet’s carbon unit infestation.

I don’t mean to suggest that I adopted Vulcan ways as my own. But I do have what I consider to be a rather unique perspective on what “being a Vulcan” would mean were they not a fictional race. I have long suspected other fans of things-Vulcan might consider my views heretical. Nonetheless, it was an incredibly ironic day when I learned Mr. Nimoy was no longer with us. I still don’t know how to process it entirely nor am I sure how long that may take. I found it helpful to find a quote from the end of The Wrath of Khan. Kirk’s son tells his father, “You knew enough to tell Saavik that how we face death is at least as important as how we face life.”

Dr. McCoy, later in the same film, says, “He’s not really dead. As long as we remember him.”

As I more fully invest myself in the writing career I have long-dreamt of, I do hope to have the opportunity to write at least one novel concerning Vulcans. The story does treat on the above mentioned “heresy” – and then I guess I’ll see how other fans may react.

Vaksurik rom-halan, Spock. Vaksurik rom-halan, Mr. Nimoy. I’wak mesukh-yut t’on.

The above – in Vulcan, of course – could be transliterated as, “I wish you a beautiful farewell, Captain Spock. I wish you the same, Leonard Nimoy. Time is not a single straight road.” The present is the crossroads of past and future.

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