Words, Wacky Stuff, and other W's

For any Star Trek fan (especially Next Gen), The Inner Light is an episode that many are well versed in…and, let’s face it, probably have some emotional damage from.

My son and I watched it tonight, and it tore me up as usual, especially the ending scene (no spoilers, if you haven’t seen it, you’re robbing yourself of it). While is still hits with an emotionally profound sledgehammer, it also makes me consider the scope of the episode as it pertains to writing.

***Okay, so, spoilers below***
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(Turn back now if you haven’t see then episode and don’t want it spoiled)

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Okay, so in the episode, Captain Picard gets struck with a beam from an unknown probe and is essentially put into a coma. On the outside, he remains himself, but inside his mind, he is living this life. Has kids, learns to play an instrument, struggles with the local government (you know…a life, haha). After about 25 or so minutes the probe releases him.

For all intents and purposes, he has spent decades living this entire life. This was all done in an effort for this (pre-warp) race to be known by the first person who passed the probe.

Sometimes I feel like our stories do that. Sure, we spend weeks, months, or even years crafting this story. The characters, people, cultures, and little critters inside have had full lives that we are only seeing a fraction of.

It feels special to know the denizens of the worlds we create, as if we are given a gift to share them with the world and make them known. The things we create are every bit real in our heads, and just think of the way you treat them, respect them, if you think they aren’t (the brain can often struggle to differentiate).

I really hope that one day I will get to clutch my flute and stare at the stars the same way the captain did at the end. While it could be sad, it would be worse, so much worse, to never get to know these stories and characters…life would be less without them.