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Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 11:01:53 +0100
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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From:         LabRat <labrat@UKF.NET>
Subject:      Re: babble, rant, tangent, bacalac, wham/waff (was other
stuff..
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Zoom wrote:

>Last tangent segue ;) As an old-timer on the list, WHAM was a word that
>referred to anything ranging from emotionally painful to bittersweet
moments.
>There really wasn't a designation for "hurt/comfort" since that wasn't
often
>in the series. I mean Lois and Clark would comfort each other, but
>traditional hurt/comfort tends to have one of the couple torn down to quite
a
>degrading or physically debilitated level. You're much more like to run
into
>that in Trek fic or X-Files fic.

Hmmmm, interesting. But not in the traditional Trek hurt/comfort that I used
to read, Zoom - and that I tend to still think of when designating fanfic I
read today as hurt/comfort (not that I use the term much these days, even
mentally, WHAM having replaced it in my psyche).

Well, yeah, there *was* a lot of the 'physically debilitating' type around,
undoubtedly, but there was also a lot of the other, which was my favourite
and of which there actually was some in LNC - although more in LNC fanfic
than on screen, admittedly. The type that usually consisted of nothing more
than someone getting knocked unconscious and lying in a coma for days while
the rest of the cast hovered anxiously by their bedside (HIWTHI comes under
my own personal definition of hurt/comfort for example, as do many scenes in
Chris Mulder's Love Beyond All Measure and Dimensions of Loving - and a lot
of other fanfic besides). Or someone got injured or sick and couldn't get
back to the ship and had to be cared for by someone else. Those were
traditional original Trek hurt/comfort fanfics for me. And that's what I
still tend to think of when transferring the term to LNC. So for me,
personally, LNC has a lot of hurt/comfort moments, both on screen and off,
although nowadays I think of them as WHAMS.

That one kinda came out in babble mode - must be tireder than I thought! <g>
Tireder? More tired. Something like that...

LabRat :)
Doc. Klein's LabRat
labrat@ukf.net

"Shut up," he explained.  --- Ring Lardner, The Young Immigrants.

'We can't all be heroes because someone has to sit on the curb and clap as
they go by.' --- Will Rogers.
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 03:59:11 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      Re: My Journal, Day 6
In-Reply-To:  <v03110700b3a08856fe33@[128.8.129.124]>
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At 09:53 PM 06/30/1999 -0500, you wrote:
>>>Oh, my sentiments exactly.  Debby, I have been trying to restrain my
>>>impatience and wait for all of your latest epic to hit the List (which,
as
>>>everyone else has already said, is incredible and has me in constant awe
of
>>>your writing prowess).
>>
>>Note, dear audiece, that she hasn't said "I'll send you big $$$ if you
send
me
>>all the rest privately".
>
>
>Does this mean that if I do send you big $$$, you WILL send me the rest
>privately????
>Terry

Certainly! What's more, for Big $$$, you get a version (the remaining
"days")
that may not be final, thus a version that will be unique, one of a kind, a
collector's item, that kind of thing :) For Big Enough $$$ (delivered
first),
I'd even throw in (while you wait) older versions so you can see how the
story
progressed from tripe to masterpiece. For Truly Big $$$, I'd throw in all
old
versions of Dawning and other stories, everything on a CD, and we'd both be
very happy campers :)

Debby
Debby@swcp.com
who, like everyone else,
would love to retire early,
or at least befoe Y2k hits :)
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 04:07:17 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      Re: Episode Filming
In-Reply-To:  <3.0.6.32.19990630202012.007a6c60@tiac.net>
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At 08:20 PM 06/30/1999 -0400, you wrote:
>I have a rather mundane quesion regarding the filming of the episodes and I
>wasn't sure where to direct it.  Can someone tell me how far in advance of
>airing was each episode filmed? Zoom?
>
>Just curious.
>
>Regards
>Anita

I was there in mid August of, um, 96? (so long ago...) with some friends. I
couldn't go to the official FoLCFest that year because my bosses took their
vacation about the same time in July. However, this was good because I knew
that the show wasn't filming at the time. They were no doubt working on it,
just not filming yet.

My friends and I toured several times and saw the "wreckage" strewn around
the
Metropolis set (and got some pictures we shouldn't have, though not
important
ones, like when we glancingly saw Dean just after I put away my camera...).
So
they were taping Battlefield/ground (whatever) Earth at that hot, humid
time of
year (no wonder Dean had stripped down to a sleeveless tank top). It didn't
appear on our screens until the new season started in... September? after
Lord
of the Flys (Flies?).

You can tell how much that arch impressed me... though it the tour was fun
:)
Dean's tan... yum!

Anyhow, I'd say they filmed at least a month ahead when they could, hoping
to
have it in the can early, and probably prayed for no last-minute revisions
or
orders from their various bosses.

Debby :)
Debby@swcp.com
unimpressed by New

 Krypton arch
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 05:49:49 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      NEW: My Journal, Day 7, Intro (part 0/7)
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TITLE: My Journal
         Day 7, Monday, May 9, PART (0/7)
         AUTHOR Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com
         RATING P/PG-13
         FEEDBACK Comments welcome in all forums
         No Editing please (though you can fix typos)
         SUMMARY  Read Days 1, 2, 3, 3A, 4, 4A, 5, 5A, and Day 6 before you
read Day 7. All previous parts and noted "attachments" are available at
ftp://ftp.swcp.com/pub/users/dstark/Stories/MyJournal
in Word97 doc or rtf form; with one exception, nearly all pictures are jpgs.

Clark Kent's adventures in Metropolis continue. There are no attachments
with
this entry.  Nothing worth drawing :)
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 05:49:59 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      NEW: My Journal, Day 7, Part 01/07
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TITLE: My Journal
         Day 7, Monday, May 9, PART 01 of 07
         AUTHOR Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com
         RATING P/PG-13
         FEEDBACK Comments welcome in all forums
         No Editing please (though you can fix typos)

All characters below belong to DC Comics and Warner Brothers unless they
are my
own creations. Story by Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com. Submitted on July 1,=
 1999

                  My Journal

May 9, Monday

         It's been another eventful day in the life of your would-be=
 synthetic
hero.
         First, I dropped the tux off at Max's. He was open early and there
was
a line of men waiting for him and Maxine to check off names and take back=
 the
clothing. Assuming this human traffic jam would happen, I arrived at seven
went
and only had to wait ten minutes. Maxine hardly glanced at me. I wonder if=
 she
knew about yesterday's meeting? Was she not invited? Did she choose not to=
 go?
Has she been phased out? Whatever, I'm happy.
         I entered the Daily Planet building right on time, determined to do
something about my "would-be hero" status. I was going to ask for an
appointment with Mr. White so we could talk about this whole mess. I thought
(and still think) that if anyone can answer my questions - really *answer*
them
and not tell me that I don't need to know - it's got to be him. Yes, I know
he's biased. He's on "their" side and he supports them and wants me (or
someone
like me) to be "The Silver Knight" just as much as Lois Lane does.
         But he's wise, too, like you, Dad, and I think he's clever like=
 you,
Mom, so maybe he'll see some humor in all this and share it with me. He'll=
 see
how I *need* to know more and he'll feel it's okay to tell me things that=
 Lois
Lane won't or can't. I trust him.
         One thing that prompted me to decide all this is the dream I had=
 last
night. In it, everyone I know -- from you, Mom and Dad, to old friends like
Lana, to school and college friends, to all those I met in my travels and my
jobs, up to and including the Daily Planet newsroom -- everyone. They=
 flashed
by me, took one look at me in that Silver Knight suit, and said things like
"Clark, what *are* you doing?" "You sure look strange." "That doesn't fit=
 you"
"You don't look like you at all." "Why are you hiding?" "Why are you jumping
instead of flying, jogging instead of racing, lifting crates instead of
lifting
freight cars?" "Who are you really trying to be?"
         I woke up wondering if there will come a time when I don't know
who=
 I
am. That's a little drastic, I know, but dreams do that. They tell us
things we
really need to know but in disguise so we have to figure them out.
         Talking to Mr. White is the solution I came up with. I want him to
assure me that whatever happens with Lois Lane's wacky plans, as long as I=
 do
my best as a reporter, I'll still have a job and my career to work on. I=
 want
that anchor to reality. I *need* it. My life is already weird enough without
these extra complications. I want to hear from him that he didn't hire me=
 only
because he thinks that Lois Lane's Plan requires the big-city equivalent of
lifting cows. I can lift cows (which is not a wise idea), but that's beside
the
point.
         Unfortunately (though it may be fortunate), I had to put my plan to
talk to him on hold because the Pit was busy. I don't know why this=
 surprised
me. Just because the push for the Sunday edition was behind us is no reason
for
things to be sedate on Monday morning in the newsroom of the best newspaper=
 in
he world.
         Is it any wonder I find being there more exciting than thinking=
 about
The Silver Knight? I wonder if that name will stick. "Combat Man," while
distasteful, is faster to say.
         On the way up in the elevator I began to hear whispers of rumors
about
a big newsmaker coming out of a long period of self-imposed isolation. Would
the Daily Planet get an exclusive share of what was to be said? What
experienced reporter would Perry order to get the story? If *she* were here
(they didn't say Lois Lane's name), there was no doubt who would be on top=
 of
it, whether Mr. White assigned her to get the story or not. She loved=
 charging
out and collaring newsmakers. But Cat's name also came up, and Steve's, as=
 did
the names of several other top reporters I have yet to work with, so it=
 could
have been anyone going after whoever it was.
         The whispers filed out of the elevator with us, filled the kitchen=
 we
detoured into, flowed back out and down into the Pit like the scent of the
fresh-brewed coffee, and followed everyone as they carried both the rumor=
 and
coffee cups into the conference room for the budget meeting fifteen minutes
later.
         They (staffers and rumors) only calmed when Mr. White entered. He
carried a big cup of level-headed decaf. He commandeered his chair,
straightened a file folder of papers waiting for him, cleared his throat and
said, "Good morning, people."
         A universal "Mornin'!" greeted him.
         We reviewed the events of the weekend and how everyone thought the
Sunday edition turned out. Coverage of the White Orchid Ball was a big hit,
Cat's stories having been picked up by papers all over the world. The space
station stories were picked up too, but were, well, dull by comparison. In=
 Mr.
White's opinion, though, they were more important in the long run. Everyone,
even Cat, agreed with this.
         Then he added, totally out of the blue as far as I'm concerned, "I
expect Kent over there to ask Luthor for more details about that this
morning."
         Everyone turned to search me out. I was standing in the back, as
usual. I was pointed out for those who didn't know me. It was reminiscent
of my
dream and a little scary.
         I said, "Sir?"
         He looked totally relaxed, which seemed to mean he had no question
about my ability to charge in and collar a certain newsmaker. "Lex Luthor
wants
to talk to you in person. I got his request just before I came in here." He
glanced at Steve. "The Entertainment Center is your story, but he asked for
Kent specifically."
         Steve nodded. He didn't look upset; just the opposite. Like=
 everyone
else, he probably wondered what I'd gotten myself into now and how I'd=
 handle
it. I'm sure they all wanted me to do well for the paper's sake, but as
experienced Planet reporters, they had also wanted to talk to Lex Luthor=
 first
and on their own terms.
         I understand this. Maybe Luthor picked me because I'm new and have=
 no
terms yet - and he knew I'd be caught off guard by the request. My=
 colleagues
wouldn't be intimidated by being commanded to appear by one of the richest=
 men
in the world.
         Steve seemed to confirm this idea. "He'll have had his people find
out
everything they can about you, Clark. I hope you're not trying to hide an
unsavory background."
         "A wife and kids," someone quipped.
         "*Two* wives and kids!" another added.
         "No, I bet he's a lumberjack!"
         "And he's okay!"
         "Now, now," Mr. White said before a string of increasingly funny
accusations could get started. I don't mind being the subject of such gentle
teasing; I think it means that my colleagues are beginning to accept me.
         The pressure of the assignment, though, made me feel I had to=
 explain
something. "I thought he would just have someone call me," I peeped. "About
that. You know. The theater."
         This simple statement surprised my colleagues and more eyebrows=
 were
raised in my direction. I guess they wondered why anyone from Luthor's=
 office
would want to call me, the new kid. I'm surprised they didn't tease me about
that, too.
         Mr. White grunted. "Hmm, well, he didn't. He wants to see this
morning
at nine at the Center site, where that old Theater used to be. That woman=
 you
interviewed is supposed to be there, too. There will probably be some kind=
 of
ceremony. Either she's accepted his offer or..." he chuckled and most=
 everyone
joined in before he completed his speculation, "she'll tell him off. Take
Olsen
with you."
         Beside me, Jimmy straightened to attention and whispered, "Yes!" I
wonder if he'll ever get used to being given great assignments? I hope not;=
 I
think everyone would miss his enthusiasm.
         "Olsen, as soon as the ceremony's over, bring your pictures back=
 and
get Kent's notes, too. Kent," he pointed at me now, "you're to stick to=
 Luthor
like white on rice and get everything he'll give you and, if you can, what=
 he
doesn't want to give you." He sat back and smiled. "It'd be nice if we could
put someone in his pocket, even for a little while."
         Everyone nodded. They all wanted to be on friendly terms with the
potential source of many exciting stories.
         I think it's interesting that on Friday Eduardo thought I might=
 work
my way into Dr. Baines's pocket (in a purely professional manner), and now I
may be in Luthor's (ditto).
         Mr. White continued: "If he talks anymore about the Entertainment
Center, see Steve when you come back. If he talks about the space program,=
 see
Eduardo. If he talks about anything else, come see me."
         "Unless he says he's getting married," Cat said. "Then come see
*me*."
         Everyone laughed while Mr. White shook his head and smiled in
spite of
himself. Finally he motioned toward me and Jimmy. "Now, you two, git."
         We got. I grabbed a notepad and two pens. Jimmy grabbed his
photography equipment. We met at the elevators. The first one to arrive was
conveniently empty and heading down. We stepped in, the door closed, and he
turned to me right away.
         "Luthor's a scum bag," he informed me tersely. "You're to *watch=
 out*
and *not* let him fool you."
         His commanding behavior was so surprising that all I got out was
"Huh?"
         "This is a great chance though. *We* need a spy in his pocket,=
 too."
         "We?"
         He blinked, probably wondering if he had previously overestimated=
 the
intelligence of those from Kansas. "*You know....*"
         "You mean that woman who...?"
         "Right."
         "The team leader?"
         "Her, yes. *Our* team leader."
         "That mystery woman who has insinuated herself into my life like=
 a--"
         "I said *yes*!"
         "Does she..." I glanced casually around the elevator as we moved
steadily downward. "...have a name?"
         "No! It's too dangerous to let just *anybody*--"
         "--who's been asked to risk his *very life*--"
         "--know about... well...." He backed off a bit, both literally and
figuratively. "Okay. You're right. I'll talk to her about that."
         "Thanks." But I couldn't just leave it there. "On the way to the
site,
can we stop and get some French fries and ice cream and--"
         He looked stricken. "No! You *have* to take care of yourself! *I'm*
supposed to see to that! Your job is critical!"
         "What if Lex Luthor invites me to lunch?" which was totally
impossible, but....
         We arrived at the garage level. "Simple. You tell him you need a
photographer and I'll call for a courier to bring my film back here."
         "And you'll keep me from eating caviar and cr=E8me sauces and all=
 those
fatty foods that rich people strew all over their lunch tables?"
         "Ah...." He began to calm down, at last realizing the pure
ridiculousness of the scenario. "We'll see. There's my bike. I brought
along my
extra helmet just in case something like this happened. We've got to protect
your..." He looked up at me. "...all of you, even the crazy part."
         I smiled as I put it on, mounted his bike behind him, and we were
off.
We arrived with time to spare. We showed our press IDs, were given bright
orange safety hard hats and one-day press badges, and were allowed to enter=
 a
large, roped-off area where the Sarah Bernhardt Theater had once stood. The
plot of land was surprisingly clear; even the basement area had been=
 carefully
boarded over to avoid accidents. No doubt the contractor wanted to remove or
hide away evidence of the old theater, the rallying point for protesters, as
fast as possible. Jimmy took pictures of this and of a worn old station=
 wagon
that soon pulled up. Beatrice and several other people got out of it. They
talked to the guards, who gave them orange hard hats, too, and let them=
 pass.
         Beatrice spotted me quickly. "You!" She shook her finger at me and
rushed in my direction. For a tiny, frail-looking woman she moves fast.
"You're
the one!"
         She looked so indignant that I couldn't help but wonder what I had
done wrong... but as she approached, she broke into a smile. She must have
been
acting at first, to catch me off guard. It worked.
         She said, "Yes, *you're* the one!" She threw her strong, bony arms
around me and gave me a tight hug. "They're listening to us now, thanks to
you!"

(continued)
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 05:50:08 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      NEW: My Journal, Day 7, Part 02/07
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

TITLE: My Journal
         Day 7, Monday, May 9, PART 02 of 07
         AUTHOR Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com
         RATING P/PG-13
         FEEDBACK Comments welcome in all forums
         No Editing please (though you can fix typos)

         I tried to tell her that I had just been a conduit for her
brilliant
message, but she ignored me and proceeded to introduce her companions. They
are
friends, neighbors, and fellow thespians who are interested in helping her
with
the projects (note the plural) Luthor's people mentioned over the phone last
Thursday afternoon. They all said that my article about Beatrice and Jimmy's
dramatic pictures had inspired them to join her cause. The younger
protesters
had been spirited, but the job was more than they could handle. It was time
for
expert rabble rousers to step in. It was, they said, a very good thing that
Luthor had read the article, or he'd be in big trouble with them now.
         Luthor arrived at 8:58 in a long, black Cadillac. When he got out,
we
saw that he was dressed not in a business suit, as were his two
staid-looking
companions, but in blue jeans, a plaid shirt and heavy work boots. I think
that
if he hadn't come in the Cadillac but in an old truck, and if he had been
carrying a tool box, he could have passed for a construction worker, he is
that
physically fit.
         Those who met him at his car admired his choice of clothing and
gave
him a gold-colored hard hat. The two men with him received silver-colored
ones.
Guards then guided the businessmen into the roped-off area where a delighted
Beatrice, her excited friends, Jimmy (taking pictures like mad) and I
(taking
plenty of notes) were standing.
         Luthor nodded at me as he approached, "Mr. Kent, I'm glad to see
you
could make it."
         "Thank you for inviting me, sir." At that point I realized I was
the
only one who knew people in both camps. I proceeded with introductions, and
Luthor introduced his two companions.
         One was his Vice President of Luthor North American Entertainment,
who
happened to be in town this week, and the other was a good friend, the
Chairman
of the Metropolis Arts Board, whose committee is in charge of the project.
Both
men were pleased to meet Beatrice, who they described during the brief
ceremony
as "one of the marvelous people who made us realize who and what we're
really
building this Entertainment Center for." The implication is that it is being
built for people like her, but why this is coming to light only now is
something for Steve to deal with. I'll include clippings of the resulting
article and pictures in my scrapbook.
         The two were all smiles throughout the little ceremony wherein
Beatrice accepted the position on the board of advisors for the new Theater.
They began to explain some of their ideas to her and for the benefit of the
readers of the Daily Planet, I'm sure.  However, they were soon overwhelmed
by
the ideas Beatrice and her friends began to outline. They want to stage
great
classic plays with well-known actors and open them free to the public. They
want to take plays, song festivals and dance troops to local school
children,
whose current exposure to the arts is mostly via television. Cleaning up and
policing local parks to use as venues for arts activities sponsored by the
Entertainment Center is also tops on their agenda. One of Beatrice's
companions
had a position paper and gave me a copy that I'm sure Steve enjoyed reading.
         The VP and the Chair pasted on smiles, promised nothing and
suggested
we take a tour of the site. Mini-Team Daily Planet followed along, taking
more
notes and pictures. Luthor, quietly watching his people squirm, an amused
look
on his face, ghosted along with us. I wondered if he was also enjoying the
sunny day and how often he gets out of his office. I hear that some rich
people
put in 80-hour weeks. Even if some (a lot?) of his projects are unsavory, he
must work hard on them.
         As the tour wound down about half an hour later, I hadn't gathered
a
lot of real news. This happens for a reporter covering a production like
this,
where a few people plan it out and guide everything as though we all had
scripts. I'm glad Beatrice and her friends often broke away from those
scripts
and tricked out of the VP and the Chairman some interesting quotes. I hope
Steve can use them in the article.
         But the end of the tour was not the end of the morning's activities
for me.
         As the VP and the Chair were offering Beatrice and her friends
rides
home, and the latter were pointing out their dusty station wagon - yes, the
one
parked right in the way of a concrete mixer (Old habits die hard, huh?) -
Luthor seemed to almost glide up beside me. "Mr. Kent, I'd like to talk to
you
after this..." he murmured but didn't wait for my reply, gliding on to
consult
with the construction manager about his progress.
         Jimmy overheard this brief transaction, waltzed up to me and
exclaimed, all bright eyed, "Wow, that'll be great! I still have four rolls
of
film left!"
         Something with the intensity of a wave of Sahara heat made me look
in
Luthor's direction.
         He was looking in mine. His eyes, shaded by his golden hard hat,
appeared hooded and, paradoxically, almost cold. He shook his head, a gentle
but meaningful move.
         While a variety of alarms went off in my mind, I was irresistibly
drawn by the man's invitation. I'm sure that feeling was a manifestation of
my
reporter's instincts.
         I looked at Jimmy and duplicated Luthor's head shake but added a
sad
smile. "Sorry, I don't think you can go."
         Disappointment flooded his face. I'm surprised Beatrice didn't see
this and hire him on the spot. He said, "Oh, darn..." but I also saw a
warning
look in his eyes.
         I smiled and I closed my note pad. "Take this with you and give it
to
Steve." I didn't think Luthor would want me to take notes of our
conversation.
         "All right...."
         As Jimmy trudged away, Luthor turned from his employee, walked past
me, said only, "Come," and headed toward the parking area.
         I followed him to his Cadillac, on the way giving my orange hard
hat
and press badge to the guard who asked for them at the exit of the roped-off
area.
         Luthor's tall, distinguished-looking, white-haired and goateed
chauffeur opened the right-side passenger back door. Luthor took off his
hard
hat, gave it to the man, entered the Cadillac, and made himself comfortable
on
a seat that ran parallel to the other side of the vehicle. The seat is one
broad U-shape that plunges into the back.
         He looked out at me and, amused, said, "Get in. It's all right."
         I stepped in and sat down, and the chauffeur closed the door
silently.
I mean, the door made almost no sound at all (I heard a tiny *click*); the
car
is that well made. The interior is black and cool, and the upholstery is a
mix
of soft leather and velvet with silver trimmings. It seemed at first sight
that
there was more room in the vehicle than in the bedroom area of my room at
the
flophouse. It was an illusion, of course. A lot about Lex Luthor (and
probably
most very wealthy people) must be an illusion, one they foster and regular
people want to believe in.
         I sat there carefully, for some reason feeling that I didn't want
to
take up much space, and watched him open - what else? - a fold-down bar. He
pulled from it a small plastic bottle of sparkling water, looked at me, and
asked, "Thirsty?"
         "No, sir," which was true.
         "All right.... Try to relax, Mr. Kent. You're allowed to enjoy
yourself." He sat back and watched me try to loosen up a little. I felt
about
as comfortable in the Cadillac as I had at the White Orchid Ball. In a few
moments he asked, "Have you ever ridden in one of these... marvels of human
ingenuity?"
         It was easy to say, "No, sir," but impossible to think up any
questions like a good reporter with an excellent opportunity should. Whereas
Saturday evening I felt like an intruder who at least hadn't done very much
wrong, today, under his watchful gaze, I felt somewhere between a guest on
his
best behavior and a mouse about to be played with by a cat. I bet Cat Grant
would have had him eating out of *her* paw by now, telling her his life
story.
         There was no way he could miss my awkwardness. He probably sees it
all
the time in people he meets and has developed countless ways to use it to
his
own advantage. I don't mean to sound so opinionated or like I don't
appreciate
that skill when used in a kindly manner. The man's a billionaire and he
didn't
get where he is by misjudging people.
         He raised an eyebrow that seemed to say, "Go on...."
         About the car? Ah.... "I've ridden in a Bentley and a Jaguar, once,
but..." I looked around again. Its opulence was almost overwhelming.
"...never
one of these."
         "Oh, I like Bentley's, but Jags are... a little overrated. You may
find this strange, considering I can have any car I wish, but I like those
little Miatas. I have a Bentley at my manor up in the Metropolis mountains,
and
a Miata on my estate outside of Verona. But do you know what vehicle is the
best built for rough terrain?"
         I shook my head.
         "I have a dusty old Landrover on my ranch in northern New Mexico.
It's
perfect for that kind of country, though sometimes I envy the locals there
who
have rusty old trucks they've relied on for years and kept going somehow.
They
are true mechanics, using clothes pins and bailing wire to keep those trucks
going."
         I found myself struggling to keep up my end of the conversation.
"Old
trucks have a lot of character, too."
         "Yes, that's it exactly. Why, there are probably old trucks on your
parents' farm."
         How did he know? It's obvious that there are trucks on farm, but
how
did he know that my parents have a farm?
         Then I remembered Steve's warning that Luthor would have my
background
checked. It was interesting that Luthor was gently warning me that he had
indeed done this.
         I said, trying to keep a steady voice, "Two trucks, one old, one
new,
and my mom has a Chevy Celebrity."
         He nodded. "Good, useful transportation. Smart people care more
about
utility than appearances, but a person in my position has to keep
appearances
in mind. This Cadillac says everything I want it to say."
         I realized suddenly that I was being mesmerized by his
conversational
tone. I blinked and pulled back, becoming more aware of my surroundings. We
had
already started moving. It's no wonder I didn't notice. The ride was
incredibly
smooth even though the roads on the construction site are rough and full of
ruts.
         There was something else. I looked at the door that had been closed
behind me. "Sir? Your associates...?"
         "They can take care of themselves." He smiled as though he enjoyed
the
rare opportunity to pull a prank now and then. "Maybe they'll ask Beatrice
for
a ride. I bet she drives like a bat out of hell. Or maybe they'll take the
bus."
         I smiled, too. The thought of stuffy businessmen being forced to
ride
shoulder to shoulder with regular people is funny.
         However, I also found myself wondering if Luthor pulled the bus
idea
out of the blue or if it was a veiled reference to me riding buses. He must
have figured he knew a lot about me or else he wouldn't have invited a
virtual
stranger into his Cadillac. Does he know as much about me as Lois Lane does?
More? He has different sources, no doubt. Better ones?
         The touch of fear this provoked got me into gear at last. While I'm
a
man with a big secret, I reminded myself there in that luxury liner of a
car of
his, there is no way in the world he could know it. *No way*. Most likely on
Saturday evening he detected that I was way out of my depth socially. In his
office he found me at a big disadvantage since I was trespassing. Perhaps
right
then and there, for reasons of his own, he decided not to prosecute me but
to
see if I could be of any use to him. Since then he's found out what he can
about me, including that I've been in Metropolis less than a week. I can
almost
hear him planning it: "I need Kent. Kent needs... a friend. I'll become his
friend."
         Believe me, I don't like thinking this way about people. I don't
like
being suspicious. I prefer to talk to people and decide for myself rather
than
base my opinions on second-hand experience (in the jungle, dealing with
people
who worked for one of Luthor's many subsidiaries) and rumors spread by
biased
people (you know who). After all, maybe under the trappings of wealth
there's a
fellow who really does enjoy dressing like a construction worker, one who
wants
to lead a normal life just as much as I do. Maybe he's looking for friends,
too.
         But... I don't think so.
         All these thoughts come down to one thing: how do I react to
someone
who knows my social vulnerabilities and probably suspects my career
aspirations
and has decided to act upon them?
         Well, to find out his plan, I decided I could let him think that I
was
flattered by his interest and was indeed relaxing.
         In reference to snobby businessmen forced to figure out the
Metropolis
bus system, I quipped, "I hope they have exact change!"
         He smiled. "They may have to borrow it from Beatrice."
         "She'll make them sign out a loan."
         "They'll balk and the construction manager will threaten to kick
them
off the site or make them work for their living!"
         I couldn't top that and had the feeling I shouldn't try.
         He nursed his drink and looked ahead lazily. His gaze drifted
downward
toward his heavy boots, now a little muddy, and he smiled absently. "I need
to
get out and work, to do something with my hands." He flexed his unoccupied
one,
his right, admiring it. "When I was a young man, only a little younger than
you
are, I dabbled in construction as a carpenter. I was in it just long enough
to
acquire a few calluses, figure out how to finance the purchase of the
company I
was working for, and use that leverage to acquire other companies." He made
a
fist, capturing those companies... then he opened it, freeing... himself?
No,
all that acquiring could only have made more work for him. "I enjoyed the
physical work though. I enjoyed hearing about the lives of the men around
me,
the feel of sweat on my brow, the accomplishments I could see in the dirt
under
my fingernails....."
         But he sighed, his smile faded, and he clenched his hand into a
fist
again before relaxing it and resting his elbow on top of the seat back.
         "I'll be getting my hands dirty again, but I expect to be dealing
with
*filth,* not simple, pure soil." He looked up and over at me. "And, Mr.
Kent, I
need your help to cleanse that filth's influence from this fair city."
         Beatrice better snap up Lex Luthor if he ever auditions for a
play. He
sounded incredibly sincere.

(continued)
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 05:50:19 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      NEW: My Journal, Day 7, Part 03/07
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

TITLE: My Journal
         Day 7, Monday, May 9, PART 03 of 07
         AUTHOR Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com
         RATING P/PG-13
         FEEDBACK Comments welcome in all forums
         No Editing please (though you can fix typos)

         Actually, he may well have been sincere. I'm still not sure as I
look
back at the conversation.
         I said, "Sir?"
         "I'll explain. You expect an explanation and you deserve one."
         I immediately wondered how he knew that not getting explanations
has
been one of my main problems in life lately. I revisited the theory that he
is
befriending the innocent farmboy who's taken up residence in the golden
city...
and his frankness fits. Metropolis as an entity and as an idea is so immense
that the kid from Kansas is bound to be feeling a little confused and lost.
         "First, though... can't I interest you in some of this water? It's
a
brand I discovered in Switzerland and I have it flown in. It's quite good. I
enjoy sharing it." The implication was that he didn't very often get the
chance
to share things with a friend.
         This time, more relaxed (note: I typed that as "relexed" and I
hardly
ever make typos) (that's not human, is it? Maybe I should leave some typos
in
here), I accepted his offer.
         He got another bottle, handed it over to me, settled back, and
said,
"This magnificent vehicle..." he gestured, taking in everything from the
sculptured hood ornament to the sturdy back bumper, "is totally secure. The
only listening devices in here are the ones I have complete control over,
and I
assure you that they are all turned off now. I don't want any trace of our
discussion to turn up in... those filthy places. We're also impervious to
listening devices aimed at us, and Nigel will continue driving until told
he is
to take us to the Daily Planet, where we will drop you off. He can spot a
tail
a mile away and lose them easily, regardless of what he's driving."
         Naturally, with his dwelling on listening devices and being
followed,
I thought of the green thread. This man could easily afford the technology
to
create it and could have ordered someone to plant it in my shirt as well.
         However, I can think of no reason for him to have done it before he
even met me on Saturday night. After that, who knows? But I'm sure my shirt
was
bugged earlier in the day on Saturday because it's one that I brought from
home
on Friday night.
         No, Lois Lane is the only one with not only the ability (in the
form
of her father and Dr. Klein) but the need to bug me so they could keep
track of
me. She also had the opportunity to do it while leaving the "custard" note.
         However... Lois Lane and her cohorts simply do not strike me as bad
people, and it would take bad people to plant something potentially
radioactive
on their prey. She's crazy, yes, and passionate, and her followers seem to
believe in her, but I don't think she's a criminal.
         But if it wasn't her or Luthor... who then?
         I looked forward at Nigel, who I could just see beyond a pane of
what
must be bulletproof glass. I'm sure my voice was full of friendly concern (I
don't think I can fake that easily) when I asked, "Do you often have to
worry
about being listened to and tailed?"
         "No, not often, but this is a special case and this is the safest
place to discuss it. Let me lay my cards on the table, Mr. Kent."
         (Note: I instantly imagined him dealing from the bottom of the
deck,
just like you showed me how to do once on a rainy Saturday afternoon, Mom.)
         (Another note: Luthor called me "Mr. Kent" and never "Kent." I find
that interesting.)
         "I know that one way or another, you come from farming stock. It
doesn't matter to me that you were adopted. What matters is that you've
lived a
good deal of your life among clean, honest, farming folk, close to a small,
all-American community full of law-abiding citizens - the very salt of the
earth. From the information I've gathered, you've been strongly influenced
by
that way of life."
         He may be a brilliant businessman, but I don't think it's wise to
stack stereotype on top of stereotype.
         Then again, maybe I come across as clean and I don't mind being
thought of as honest.
         I found myself nodding along with his assessment of where I grew
up.
Before I could comment, though, he continued: "I also have all the evidence
I
need of your honesty as a journalist. You've had an exemplary career to this
point, which includes your foray into my office, where you were so
circumspect
that you didn't touch a thing. I find that *strange*... but I don't think
you
planned to be there."
         "No, sir, I didn't."
         "You followed that woman, that... Lola."
         "Yes, sir. You must have a camera in there." A scary thought.
         "Yes, but the microphone was out." He looked somewhat sad as he
asked
next, "Suspecting a camera, is that why you didn't touch anything?"
         Huh? I almost bristled at the suggestion. "No, sir. I didn't touch
anything because it's a private office and it wasn't right for me to be
there.
I was trying to help Lola find the ladies' room," or I would have tried to
help
her had that been what she was really looking for.
         He nodded slightly. "Nosiness like hers I expect. You, though....
Your
honesty is refreshing. It's the exact opposite of what I've come to expect
from
reporters, for example, at the Star...."
         We both shuddered.
         "Or paparazzi in Europe and Japan. I even had a disastrous run in
with
a reporter from the Daily Planet."
         He took a drink, thinking. I drank, too, and leaned forward, ready
to
listen.
         "I suspect you don't know about her. It happened some time ago."
         "I haven't been told of any trouble, sir," which is true. There are
some advantages to being kept ignorant, I guess.
         He made himself comfortable and prepared to tell me the story. "At
one
time the Daily Planet employed a reporter who, unfortunately, was led far
astray. Someone..." said as though he knew exactly who it was, "gave her a
great deal of incorrect information..." quietly, "about me..." then, with
more
strength as he recovered, "but craftily wrapped it with some small,
inconsequential truths. The reporter verified the truths as anyone could
have,
and then she recklessly swallowed the rest of what she had been given and
based
her last masterpiece on it." He sighed, disappointed with the world.
         "She apparently had a series of stories ready to publish, but only
the
first one saw the light of day. The rest were quashed--but," he looked
right at
me as he said this, "*not* by me. I admit I'm glad that one of my deputies
got
in touch with Perry White on his own and talked some sense into him. After
all,
I wouldn't have wanted to sue a company I hold stock in."
         That made me raise my eyebrows, even though then he must own stock
in
hundreds of companies.
         "Yes," he said, "I own stock in the Daily Planet Publishing
Company.
About five percent. I bought it quite some time ago because I generally
enjoy
reading your paper and I want to support it. I keep my hands completely off
the
editorial side of it though. I want that newspaper to be an open forum." He
frowned in thought. "I wish she had talked to me before the first story was
published.... I don't know if she even tried. Perhaps she did but wouldn't
settle for talking with my people....
         "So the story was published and then the series was stopped. I
would
have been happy if they had printed a simple retraction and instructed Ms.
Lane
to talk to me about the allegations." He looked perplexed. "Perhaps she had
information I could have used.... But members of the board, out of fear for
their own fortunes and led by one... person in particular, overruled me at
an
emergency board meeting. The majority decided to sacrifice her. She was put
on
leave without pay - effectively fired. Perry White had more support,
including
mine, and he was only given a stern warning. The Daily Planet hasn't been
quite
the same since then..." soberly, "for anyone."
         I didn't know what to say. His "facts" concur with those on the
website, but both accounts are emotion-laden. The information found on the
Daily Planet's own website is incomplete and as good as useless.
         Luthor's handsome face cleared. "I'm sure you're wondering what
this
has to do with you, Mr. Kent.... I wonder if I may call you Clark."
         While this fit in with what had to be his plan, I sensed a certain
challenge in his voice.
         I said as evenly as I could, "Whatever makes you comfortable... Mr.
Luthor, but..." Why "but" when I knew his game and should be more
accommodating? Because I had my own game, one which dictated I reply with
care:
"...but I'm a reporter, and I have to be careful about how I approach...
newsmakers. I'm sorry you've had trouble with reporters in the past, but I
think *because* of that I should be even more careful."
         He smiled slightly. "That's exactly the answer I was looking for,
Mr.
Kent. I needed one last proof that you are as I thought - a man of
uncompromised integrity. Yesterday I had my people research your background
after our unexpected meeting in my office the night before."
         "I'm sorry about that, sir...."
         "Despite what you say, you have a journalist's curiosity. I
understand
that. I also think your presence kept that pest from stealing anything."
         "I don't think she would have done that."
         "You're too forgiving.... Perhaps I should be, too, but there are
people who.... No matter. The very first thing my people showed me was the
expose you wrote a few years ago about LIECU's activities in the Amazon that
threatened to... dispossess a native tribe."
         My first thought was: "Whoa, stop the car and let me out!" but I
instantly reminded myself that there was nothing wrong with that story and
nothing in it to embarrass *me*.
         Luthor watched me for a long moment. When he didn't say anything, I
decided that was because he wanted me to address the issue. I said, trying
to
adopt a firm, even tone, "Your subsidiary's plan would have effectively
destroyed the Perdido tribe. They needed an advocate and a voice. I was one
of
several people who tried to give them both. I'm glad the situation turned
out
in their favor."
         He nodded and his piercing look softened. "I'm sure you'll be
interested to know that it still is in their favor. The company was forced
to
look for alternatives and the ones it found are, so far, more profitable
than
what they were seeking."
         I tried to soften my own steady expression. "Good. I keep track of
what's going on there." Actually, I try to, but as busy as I can get, it
hasn't
been possible lately to zip down to the Amazon, more than 3000 miles, for a
quick visit. Still, "Those people are close to my heart."
         He relaxed even more. "I appreciate that. I also appreciate your
courage. You not only stood up to an unstoppable force in the jungle and
stopped it, but you sit there calmly and as good as tell me you'd do it
again."
         I thought, so much for our budding friendship. "I would, yes."
         However, this reply pleased him, too. "And that's the difference
between you and Lois Lane. Yes, she was wrong. Yes, she was duped, but she
was
manipulated by a master. I *know* that. If she hadn't given up and run
away..."
he shook his head. "I'm sure I could have helped her."
         "She gave up?" I said, incredulous, as though a good reporter would
never give up, even if her family was threatened, as Lois Lane's family may
have been. After all, her sister and father seem to have joined her in the
underground and it couldn't have been easy to give up their lives unless
they
had no choice.
         "Yes. There are a variety of rumors about what's happened to her.
One
is that she's gone underground, is leading an army of street urchins and
genetically engineered rats, and is setting off nuclear bombs all over the
city. This is patently untrue as only one bomb, a conventional one, has gone
off in the city since she disappeared and that was due to the National Guard
mishandling some ordnance. It's more likely that she moved to Florida and
manages a hotdog stand on the beach while she writes unreadable screenplays
about her adventures. I also get a chuckle out of the rumor that she was
kidnapped by an Arabian sheik and she now runs a string of harems...."
         He did seem to take these rumors lightly. His body language and,
harder to control, his heartbeat and respiration rate agreed. He wasn't
bothered by any of these possibilities.
         "With your resources, sir...."
         "You'd think I could find her and you'd be right. But I haven't
wasted
my time because she doesn't concern me anymore."
         As his evident vital signs didn't change, I'm 99 percent certain he
was telling me the truth. While I'm sure he can lie quite smoothly, but
even if
he prepared this part of his story, he couldn't know I am able to detect so
much.
         So I think I'm right in saying that among all the complex
situations
and demanding people Lex Luthor deals with on a day-to-day basis, Lois Lane
ranks down near the bottom if she's on his chart at all.
         He continued, "She was among a cadre of up and coming young people
who, like you," he stressed, "hold *great* promise... but once she collapsed
under pressure, I knew she could be of no use to me or anyone else. She
became..." he waved his hand smoothly, clearing the slate, "a nothing. I
don't
care what she's doing now. I wish her well. *You*, on the other hand...."
         I wondered what he meant by "use to me" as regards Lois Lane, but I
didn't ask since my interest might have drawn undue attention to her.
Instead I
blinked (blinded by his brilliance) and asked what I'm sure he was leading
me
to ask: "*I* hold great promise?" (My ego runneth over.)
         "You certainly do. More water? Unless," he smiled, "you consider it
a
bribe...."

(continued)
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 05:50:28 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      NEW: My Journal, Day 7, Part 04/07
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

TITLE: My Journal
         Day 7, Monday, May 9, PART 04 of 07
         AUTHOR Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com
         RATING P/PG-13
         FEEDBACK Comments welcome in all forums
         No Editing please (though you can fix typos)

         "No." I accepted another small bottle (they each held about two
cups
full of tasty water), opened the twist cap and took a refreshing drink. Yum.
Time for another joke. "Before I take any bribes I would have to discuss
them
with Mr. White."
         "And well you should."
         For a moment I wondered if this is what an indulgent older brother
might sound like.
         "He'd probably suggest I ask for a bigger bottle."
         Luthor smiled, definitely indulgent.
         I wondered if his smile would remain after I said, "You know, I
probably will have to discuss our conversation with him, so if you don't
want
to say anymore...."
         His expression hardly changed; it was as though he expected this,
too.
"I understand and I appreciate your concern. I want *you* to understand,
though, that there may be listening devices planted throughout his office
and
the newsroom, and everything you discuss with him will be heard by... a man
who
will delight in using that knowledge against you, him, and me. Eventually
he'll
simply crush you and Perry. Me..." he played with his bottle, "he'll keep
toying with me."
         "He? He who?" I hope I sounded like an indignant farmboy. "I don't
like people threatening my boss."
         "Neither do I. You and I will work together to assure Perry's
safety
so that you can feel free to talk to him at any time. That's how it should
be.
That's how the Planet will thrive. But for now, because I know he'll be
expecting you to return with interesting news, let me give you something
that
should both please and distract him." He picked up a portfolio that had been
lying on the seat beside him. "Luthor Scientific is going to release our
action
plan for the space program after Friday's launch, but by way of... a
bribe," he
chuckled, "I'm giving you, my partner, an advance copy."
         "Wow... Thank you!"
         The portfolio he handed to me was made of high-quality, glossy,
dark-brown cardboard and tied with a rubberized golden string. The word
bribe
really turns me off, even said in jest, but he had made it impossible for me
*not* to accept it because it was part of the rescue plan to protect Perry
and
the Planet.
         Luthor doesn't have to know that I *will* talk to Mr. White about
all
this anyhow, as soon as the first opportunity arises, as soon as we can talk
outside the Daily Planet building.
         After I put the precious portfolio down carefully on the seat to my
left, tapping my fingers on it, admiring it, amazed at my good fortune, I
leaned forward, elbows on my knees, and asked eagerly, "So what are we
going to
do, Mr. Luthor?"
         "For the moment 'we' are going to rely on 'you.' I need you to
simply
listen for any news about one of my fellow stockholders...."
         To add a touch of suspense to this journal entry, I'll summarize
the
next few minutes of his explanation. He thinks that one of the other
stockholders, a man who owns 33.3 percent of the Daily Planet Publishing
Company, is out to get him. As I've reported above, his suspect also holds
sway
over a number of other stockholders. While he is careful in how he uses his
power, Luthor says, the man does use it and usually to thwart any plans
Luthor
has. The man has a - deliberately? - obscure past; he seems to pop up in
unexpected places; and he knows more than he should know about things that
make
Luthor uncomfortable. "I'd say he's psychic, but if he were, I'm sure he
would
have taunted me with that already." The man even exercises some editorial
control over the paper's content. I haven't noticed this yet, but I'm too
new
on the job and have little idea what previous editorial policies have been.
         Basically, the man in question must be stopped because "he's bad
for
the Planet and, admittedly, for Luthor International."
         Paranoia must be an occupational hazard for one with as much
wealth as
Luthor has.
         Luthor's final argument, and I think the one he hoped would strike
close to home, was this: his enemy is without a doubt the one who, through
others, fed bad information to Lois Lane and strung her along - until he
laughed and cut the string. As could be expected, those "others," the
witnesses
Lois Lane relied upon, disappeared, more victims of the villain's whim. This
left the flummoxed reporter hanging on a final string, this one over the
searing coals of censure, until she was terminated. The incident engendered
major bad feelings between Lex Luthor and the publishing company - and guess
who was laughing about it in his penthouse office atop the Daily Planet
building? Guess who is probably planning to influence other reporters to
stray
>from their duties?
         "Mr. Kent, I don't like being on unpleasant terms with the Daily
Planet. I prefer that my organization and yours be on neutral terms if not
good
ones. At the rate things are going, though, soon there won't be a Daily
Planet
with which I can be on any terms at all and that would be a great shame.
Metropolis needs the Planet to return to unfettered, public advocacy."
         More important I think, though, is that Luthor wants to be
unfettered
by his competitor. Perhaps the idea is to defeat the man in one arena and it
will be easier to defeat him in others. If Luthor's plan unfetters the
Planet,
all the better. Luthor will come through looking like a savior.
         Hey, I might come through it okay, too.
         So now I have two goals in life, both of them imposed on me by
others:
save the world with Lois Lane, and save the Planet with Lex Luthor.
         I wonder what's next on my plate?
         I hope my paycheck doesn't bounce.
         I toyed with the idea of startling him by dropping a hint that I
knew
about his secret alliance with Antoinette Baines.... That would have curled
his
toes. But I refrained.
         Instead, hoping I looked like I had decided to join with him to
help
the Daily Planet survive, with an awed look on my face I said, "Wow...."
         "'Wow' indeed!"
         He sat back and took a pensive drink of water, as impressive as all
get out to this son of "clean, honest, farming folk" who he probably doesn't
expect to be thinking very far ahead. Well, actually I wasn't, but he had
given
me only inspiration and little direction.
         I tried to confirm that I was raring to get started on his quest
for
justice. "Mr. Luthor, I won't have any trouble simply listening, as you
request, and keeping my eyes wide open." Also, I'm now interested in hearing
what the other fellow has to say. "I can see that it's really important!"
         I shouldn't talk that way often or I'll start sounding like Jimmy.
         "Good." He pulled out a business card and a golden pen, jotted down
a
number and gave it to me. "Memorize that. It's one of my private lines. You
can
call me at any time, preferably from a public phone. Either Nigel or I will
talk to you."
         I memorized the number and gave the card back. He opened a small
door
to the left of the bar, tossed the card in, and there was a puff of smoke.
         "I have no doubt you will meet my opponent eventually. I have no
doubt
he'll detect in you the same promise I have seen and... proceed to suck you
dry
under the guise of currying your favor. I hope you'll be very careful, Mr.
Kent."
         Nigel must have been listening in because as Luthor gave me this
ominous warning and I just managed to suppress a gulp, the Cadillac came to
a
stop. The window to my right lightened from opaque, and I saw that we had
pulled up along the west side of the Daily Planet building. I finished my
water, picked up the portfolio, thanked Luthor profusely for thinking of me
(he
simply nodded, looking completely confident), and turned toward the door.
Nigel
unlocked it remotely and I got out and closed it behind me.
         I paused on the sidewalk, clutching the portfolio, to watch the
Cadillac pull away and, I admit it, try to overhear anything the two of them
might say. But either they didn't speak - I can imagine Luthor sitting there
savoring his victory: he had me on his virtual payroll now - or the car
truly
is sound proof.
         Nigel bullied their way through the traffic and soon they were out
of
sight.
         I relaxed and walked around the corner to the main entrance. On the
way, weaving through the constantly moving crowds, I perused the contents of
the portfolio because, after all, I was supposed to have discussed it with
Luthor. I found the reports, pictures, statements very interesting. It is
all
new material and I'm glad he bribed me with it... but none of it is
particularly earthshaking. I have no doubt we'll hold it for the Friday
afternoon edition.
         Mr. Mounts waved me through to the elevators, and I and four other
people entered the first one going up. After getting out on the third floor
I
felt compelled to pause on the overlook and gaze out at The Pit. This is
*home*
now, I told myself. I've since been able to distill the emotions I felt
down to
this: I have to do what I can to clear the Planet's name, to make it
something
that Lex Luthor and others like him truly *will* fear, and to resecure its
place in history as a shining example of truth and justice.
         First, though, I had to pass the portfolio over to Eduardo.
         My arrival had not gone unnoticed. Several of my colleagues either
called out to me or stopped me and asked what I'd brought home (they
actually
said, "What'd you bring home?"). I smiled smugly and patted the portfolio.
"A
little bacon."
         I saw Mr. White roaming around the Pit, but I bypassed him because
he
had instructed me to take anything to do with the space program to Eduardo.
Eduardo was at his desk in his office; his door was open but I knocked on it
anyway.
         I wonder if his office is bugged? I wonder if he helps Lois Lane,
too?
I wonder if everyone thinks the Pit is bugged and that's why they only
whisper
about Lois Lane?
         He looked up long enough to see it was me and as he looked back
down
at his keyboard, he grunted, "Come in, come in and sit down...." He finished
a
sentence, saved his work, then could give me his full attention. "What've
you
got?"
         I handed him the portfolio, then behind me I heard Mr. White say,
"I'd
like to see that, too."
         They were pleased with what I had acquired and asked me for any
details that Luthor might have given me beyond what was in the portfolio. I
didn't have any pertaining to the space program, so I told them we had
talked
about expensive cars, that Luthor has several estates, and that for a short
time in his past he was a carpenter.
         Mr. White chucked. "Well, that's more than every reporter put
together
has gotten out of the man since...." He and Eduardo exchanged glances.
Neither
of them would go there. Does this mean Lois Lane did interview Luthor? I
don't
know. Mr. White smiled at me instead. "So, what does the inside of Lex
Luthor's
pocket look like?"
         That was a good question. I thought about it and decided to say,
"You
wouldn't know it to look at him, but he has a lot of lint in his pocket."
The
lint represents his complicated scheming in the same way sawdust represents
the
work a carpenter puts into building a bookcase.
         (Note to self: get more sleep.)
         "Did he feed you while you were driving around in that fancy car of
his?"
         I almost said that Luthor had watered me, but that sounded weird
even
thinking it. "No."
         "Then you go out and get something to eat. After that, head over to
Harper Park on 14th and cover the dog show there."
         Wha...? From space program to dog show? The last time I covered a
dog
show was for the Smallville Post and only because there was no one available
that I, as editor, could order to do it! "But, sir!"
         He held up a soothing hand. "I know, I know, this seems like a big
letdown after all the good stories you've been covering, but I want you to
take
a little rest. Now go on, have some fun," and he turned to Eduardo.
         I told his back, "But I can't!"
         He returned and raised an almost severe eyebrow at me. "You can't?"
         I was questioning his orders, never a good idea.
         But I barged ahead anyhow. "Sir, I want to get back on Dr. Platt's
case." I had thought about this while we were talking about the space
program.
"I'm really worried about him."
         Mr. White's stern look became sympathetic. "Well, we are, too,
son,"
and Eduardo added his own nod. "But I haven't heard a word. I know that as
soon
as Inspector Henderson finds out anything, he'll call me and *you'll* be the
next one to know."
         Oh. Well.
         "Now go get something to eat and then go pet some dogs."
         I wish it had turned out that way. I was even given a clue about
who I
was soon to meet up with again. As I passed through the door and was several
steps away, I overheard Eduardo say, "He is *so* much like her, in a mild
mannered sort of way...."
         "Yeah. Scary, isn't it?"
         Of course, "her" is you know who, but I'm not *any*thing like her!
         For one thing, I'm taller.
         And I'm not human, though you have to wonder what planet *she's*
from.
         Finally, and most important of all, I'm *employed.*
         That wrecked what little appetite I had.

(continued)
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 05:50:37 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      NEW: My Journal, Day 7, Part 05/07
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

TITLE: My Journal
         Day 7, Monday, May 9, PART 05 of 07
         AUTHOR Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com
         RATING P/PG-13
         FEEDBACK Comments welcome in all forums
         No Editing please (though you can fix typos)

         I paused by Steve's desk long enough to get my ego stroked as he
complimented my excellent note taking skills. "You write a lot and you write
fast," he said, "and it's all legible. Incredible" He asked where I was off
to
and all I could mutter (!) was "To cover a dog show." Then something
occurred
to me. "Mr. White says it's at a Harper Park on 14th Street, but I have no
idea
where that is."
         "Hmm...." He leaned back, put his fingers to his mouth and aimed a
whistle off to his right.
         The only person to notice was the one he whistled at, Jimmy, on the
far side of the Pit and coming through the door that leads to the Graphic
Arts
Department and Darkroom. Startled, Jimmy picked up his easy pace and
sprinted
down the nearest ramp and around the Information Center. As he skidded up to
Steve's desk, he dropped a stack of prints of this morning's ceremony there
and
gasped, "Okay, okay! Here they are!"
         "Thanks. You can take a break. Take Clark here to Harper Park. He
has
to judge a dog show."
         Jimmy's eyes glazed over momentarily. "Oh. Wow."
         "Not judge," I said, "just see." Maybe this would discourage him
and
he'd show me where the park is on a map. I don't know why I didn't welcome
the
chance to hang out with him.
         "Still, wow. But..." he brightened, "I like dogs and I'm hungry and
it's *lunch time!* Come on," and he headed away toward the elevators.
         I looked at Steve. "He likes dogs and he's hungry."
         "Better keep an eye on him. I hear dog meat tastes like chicken."
         "Well, no, it tastes more like...."
         He looked up at me, on the verge of being surprised. I backed away
>from telling him about daily life on the Amazon and said instead, "See you
later!"
         I caught up with Jimmy, who had acquired one of his many cameras
and
supply belts and was waiting for the next elevator. The one we took was half
full. On the ride down he practically bounced. "I got some terrific pictures
of..." to keep the news of Luthor talking to the Planet again secret as
long as
possible, "you know who this morning!"
         "Good."
         "I know a great place to get some lunch!" When we got off, he
added in
a whisper, "It's on your diet, too."
         "Uh-huh." I guess my subconscious must have tried to warn me about
this earlier.
         "Aw, come on! It's fun!"
         "Is it within walking distance?"
         "Sort of."
         Sort of? We walked east, crossed an avenue and, lo and behold, we
came
across Mr. McBride's van parked in a loading zone. A slender young,
light-skinned (perhaps part Native American?) man was in the driver's seat
and
when Jimmy opened the passenger door, they exchanged hand-slap greetings.
         "Yo, Mark! You're back in town!"
         "Yeah, I finished my exams and came back to help my uncle and now
I'm
driving this thing." He slapped the steering wheel, unimpressed.
         "But this is kewl!"
         "Yeah, I guess." He looked over Jimmy and saw me. "Is that... him?"
         "Yep. Clark? Mark McBride. Mark, Clark Kent."
         I was still standing on the sidewalk, halfway expecting and maybe
the
other half hoping a meter maid would appear and warn the van to move on
(without me). I reached in and shook the young man's hand.
         He said, "You're him, huh?" It didn't sound "kewl" the way he asked
that.
         Putting on a neutral expression, I said, "Provisionally."
         He smiled. "Yeah, that's how I'd do it, too. I'd want to see what's
going on first. Come on, guys, get in."
         I looked from one young man to the other. "Where are we going?"
         "To have some fun," Jimmy said. "Unless you really *want* to cover
the
dog show...."
         "Well, I do have specific orders to eat and then see the dogs."
         "Dog show?" Mark said. "Man, there's no dog shows today! I have a
German Shepherd and I take her to every show in town and there's a show next
Saturday but *no* show today!"
         Jimmy said, "Really? Wow. Perry must have gotten it wrong." He
grabbed
my shoulder and pulled. "You've been pardoned, CK! Come on! You can even
sit in
front if you want!"
         I allowed myself to be pulled into the front seat only because it
was
clear that Mr. White had made up the excuse to get me out of the office for
this very thing.
         I did have one comment: "Does this mean we don't get lunch?"
         We stopped at a health food store with an attached restaurant, and
Mark, a vegan, ordered for us: rice and steamed vegetables in a miso sauce,
with our drinks being power-packed green algae and carrot juice. It was all
tasty. Jimmy made a face, but when Mark and I scarfed ours right down, he
was
forced to do the same. No pardon for him.
         After that we drove into Centennial Park, which is at least a dozen
square blocks worth of gentle wilderness that twists like a green belt
through
the downtown area. Part of the park is only a few blocks from the Planet, so
I
think I'll be having lunch there when I can.
         The park is also big enough to provide a bit of privacy in one of
many
little forested pockets. We parked in one called Elysian Fields, and there
we
met up with Lois Lane, who got out of a nondescript sedan driven by her
sister.
Both were dressed in jogging shoes, shorts, t-shirts, scarves and
sunglasses.
They looked like tourists.
         However, Lois Lane, tourist, came on more like Lois Lane, mugger.
She
marched right up to me and, because I refuse to let anyone just run right
into
me when I see them coming, but getting out of her way would have been
difficult, I had to let her force me back against the van.
         "You talked to Lex Luthor!" She spat the name out.
         "Yes, I did. From what I understand, it's a real coup--"
         "What did he say about m--What did you two talk about?"
         Ho-ho-ho! Two could play this game. If she insisted on keeping me
in
ignorance, there were consequences to pay. "I *beg* your pardon, but that's
privileged information between me and my editor, and it's going to *stay*
that
way. Now I assume I'm here to play with that suit, so let's get on with it."
         "In a minute!" She flashed her eyes at me, but I didn't let this
effect me because a normal person could not have seen her eyes through her
sunglasses. "Do you know *any*thing about Lex Luthor?
         "I know he's one of the city's biggest benefactors--"
         "You obviously don't know the *first thing* about him!"
         Lucy reached out to touch her sister's shoulder, but Lois Lane
shrugged her off.
         I can see where she'd be sensitive about the subject, but
officially I
wasn't supposed to know that. I said, "Wait a minute, I know--"
         "No, you--" she jabbed a sharp finger to my chest; I wonder if it
hurt
- hurt her, I mean, I hardly felt it. "--*you* wait a minute! I know who Lex
Luthor *really* is because I didn't get where I am today by believing
everything I've been force-fed!"
         Oh? I guess all those sources giving her bad information didn't
exactly *order* her to take it, did they?
         When she gets upset, she doesn't seem to stop and think out what
she'll say or what someone might reply, like I did: "Well, how *did* you get
where you are today?"
         I think the best answer in keeping with her secretive nature would
have been "In that car!" Instead she sputtered and came up with, "Don't you
know who I am?"
         Jimmy, standing off to the side near the front of the van, cleared
his
throat.
         She glared at him.
         He straightened up, in effect standing up to her, and raised his
eyebrows in a "Well...?" expression.
         She tore her eyes from him and aimed them back at me. Then she took
off her sunglasses and in a cool, quiet voice she asked, "Well, *do* you
know
who I am?"
         I may have been a little oversensitive because I interpreted this
question and the way she asked it as her throwing my ignorance back in my
face.
She probably didn't mean it that way, but it sounded like if I didn't know
who
she was, it was *my* fault that I was having all this trouble, wasn't it?
         Nope. Her accusation bounced right off of me (as things tend to do
physically already), and I said in a mature and patient voice, "We've never
been formally introduced."
         She stepped back as though to give me a better look as she stood
tall.
"I'm Lois Lane - Investigative Reporter!" Then, almost as an afterthought,
she
added, "I'm... on leave!" Which explained everything... except she hesitated
over that, too. "I'm working undercover." She stuck her sunglasses back on.
"It's a special investigation. It's critically important. Very few people
can
know about it because it's so dangerous."
         "Oh." I'm not sure if what she said is true or she just believes it
is. I decided not to point out that what she was asking me to do was
dangerous,
too. "Okay." In any case, I could reward her for opening up to me as little
as
she did. "Lex Luthor did happen to mention you."
         She blinked and the bluster abandoned her voice. "He did?" She took
off the sunglasses again, perhaps to see me and my explanation more clearly.
"What did he say?"
         "Well, he wasn't very complimentary...." I leaned back against the
van, folded my arms before my chest, relaxed, and told her the three rumors
he
had heard.
         The first one, that she'd gone underground, made her frown because
it
was close. The second one made her shake her head because she'd never go to
Florida. The third made her snort because as a feminist she would never
manage
a harem but freeing all the slaves.
         She concluded, "So he has no clue...."
         "I don't think so. I don't think he cares about you. Sorry."
         "Oh. Well, *I'm* not sorry, *I'm* happy. He'll be all the more
surprised to see who brings him down. But why would he want to talk to
*you*?"
         I could have said that Luthor wanted to talk to me for the same
reason
she did - to see how I could be used.
         I could have told her that Luthor may not be the one she should be
targeting, but that means she'd have to believe what Luthor told me.
         Or I could tell her nothing, holding the information to use as
another
reward for the next time she treated me like a real person.
         I chose the last option. Besides, would she believe me? Did I
believe
Luthor? Things were so crazy. At least she has nicer eyes than Luthor and a
passion I can vaguely understand and sympathize with.
         I said, "We talked about the space program."
         "Oh. That." She apparently hadn't figured it into her plans and
after
a few moment's thought must have decided EPRAD's problems could be handled
by
someone else. I guess this means she wasn't contemplating turning the New
Hope
into a skywriter to spell out "Luthor Sux." She said, "If you meet with him
again or get any messages from him, I want to know about it immediately."
         She didn't wait for me to agree to this, I guess assuming I knew
the
importance of it to her and her cause. Instead, she charged right ahead.
"All
right, everyone, let's get to work. We've wasted half the afternoon
already!"
         It was only a little after two, time for a nice nap on the grass.
As
she didn't ask what I wanted to do, I said, "I'll try out the suit today,
but
after that, we'll have to see. Things are getting busier at work and I have
a
lot to keep track of already."
         The only reaction my statement got was Jimmy patting me on my back
as
though he had that worked out for me already.
         The cargo-carrying area of the van had been cleaned up, so I used
it
to change clothes in. Lois Lane stayed outside, on guard, but her sister,
Jimmy
and Mark entered to "help" me. This meant things were tight in that poorly
lighted place after all. I guess either one or both doctors were still at
work
(I suspect they both maintain normal lives as much as possible), or they
would
have helped me, too, and any movement in the van would have been impossible.
         It became less crowded after I took off my jacket and shirt and
hung
them up (someone had thoughtfully provided hangers) and began to unbutton my
slacks. As I hoped, Lucy sighed and said, "Oh..." and excused herself. "I'll
just see if... if Lois is okay, okay?" Okay.
         As it was, it took about five minutes to get the suit on and
another
ten to chat about it. The time to do this will decrease with practice and
maybe
a little less enthusiastic assistance, but whether *I'll* be doing it all
again
is currently in doubt. More on the reason for that later. Otherwise, I
enjoyed
the chatting.

(continued)
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 05:50:39 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      NEW: My Journal, Day 7, Part 06/07
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

TITLE: My Journal
         Day 7, Monday, May 9, PART 06 of 07
         AUTHOR Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com
         RATING P/PG-13
         FEEDBACK Comments welcome in all forums
         No Editing please (though you can fix typos)

         Mark said that overnight the doctors made a number of adjustments
to
the suit's electronics that he thought were interesting. Soon I won't have
to
wear my glasses, he said, and he wants to include a telescopic vision
feature
into the visor. He is apparently studying electrical engineering at New Troy
University and helped early in the development of several of the suit's
devices. He gave me more tips on how to use the belt and what not to touch
yet
because he personally wasn't sure this or that component was ready yet. He
didn't think anything was likely to electrocute me. I said I was glad to
hear
that. I don't know how strong a jolt of electricity I can take. I've been
hit
by lightning a few times, but that's been while flying, not while grounded,
which could make a fatal difference.
         So about fifteen minutes after entering, I stepped out of the van
fully suited. I walked out of the shade and into the sunlight. The suit
began
soaking up energy eagerly; I could almost feel it. It was so happy it
hummed,
though I'm not sure this was audible to the others. A tiny meter on the
inside
of the helmet's visor told me that the batteries were charging in an optimum
manner.
         Mark said he wanted to see a demonstration of my strength in the
suit.
I obliged by grasping the back end of the van to lift it. The suit detect
the
movement of my muscles and somehow strengthen the metallic bands running
along
my arms and up came the van. I'm sorry, I have no clue how all that works.
I'm
not sure how *I* do it, either. In any case, the suit did its thing and it
did
just fine.
         Mark grinned, and, after my next feat, jumping up on top of the
van,
he exclaimed, "Comic books ain't got *nuthin* on you, man!"
         Comic books, eh? I could play that part, too: I stood with my feet
shoulder's length apart, put my fists on my waist, and threw my shoulders
back
so my chest would expand, straining the capacity of the body stocking and
protective metallic cross-strips. Just then, as though Mother Nature
approved,
a breeze came up, lifting the cap and causing it to wave a bit. I must have
looked stunning. Beatrice would have hired me on the spot. The only thing
lacking was heroic music.
         Jimmy gave me two thumbs up, Lucy clapped her hands, and even Lois
Lane looked slightly impressed.
         From my vantage point and possibly with the assistance of the
"audio-enhancing technology" built into the helmet, I heard a crying sound.
It
was off to the west and sounded like a child.
         Yes! "Hark! I hear someone who's in trouble!" I announced to one
and
all (i.e., my four teammates), and at last - *at last!* - I felt useful and
able to *act in public* on perceived trouble with some small extra portion
of
myself. I give all the credit to that crazy suit.
         In a fluid movement I hopped off the van and began to jog in the
direction of the crying sound. I remembered to adjust the belt and it
instructed the metallic strips along my legs to boost me along, though I
didn't
really need them. I further credit the helmet preventing me from officially
hearing Lois Lane yell at me: "No! Wait! Stop! We're not ready yet!" If
she'd
used the radio, I'd have had no excuse.
         The scene I ran into was classic. That section of the park was in
an
almost residential area on a quiet street with a series of high-rise,
expensive-looking apartments. I think the gang of young kids I approached
lives
in those apartments. The kids were in the park because school was probably
out
and they didn't have anything else to do. They had brought their pets out to
enjoy some fresh air, and one pet was a cat. The cat got away and made a
beeline for the nearest thing resembling a tree but easier to climb: a
telephone pole. The children were crowded around the base of the pole
speculating about how much trouble a little raven-haired girl was in, how
her
parents would probably kill her and ground her, and how the cat would stay
up
there all year long and freeze to death in the winter. She was, naturally,
crying and that was what had attracted The Silver Knight's attention.
         Now I had to attract theirs to get them out of the way. I addressed
them as I slowed my pace to a friendly walk. "Pardon me, Citizen Children!"
I
don't know why I said that, but it seems like something The Silver Knight
should say and with as deep a voice as I could muster to enhance the image.
"May I help you?"
         They turned and as one their jaws dropped, their eyes popped, and
their general reply was "Wow....!"
         The raven-haired child pointed upward. "My kitty...."
         "I'll get him for you--"
         "It's a *girl* cat!" a tall kid said, and several of his companions
agreed that this was so.
         "Thank you, I stand corrected." I think I sounded a little like Mr.
White without the southern accent. "I'll get *her* for you!"
         One child said, "If you leave her alone, she'll come down by
herself."
         "Yeah," another said, "In two weeks!"
         A third said, "If a *tornado* doesn't come first!"
         A fourth: "Somebody could *shoot* her down!"
         A fifth: "Unless she's a vampire *cat*!" and he laughed
uproariously.
         The cat's young owner started to cry again.
         The first child was probably right about the cat rescuing itself
and
the others were probably wrong about the length of time, tornadoes, snipers
and
vampire cats, but there I was already, so....
         I said, "You all stand back now." I didn't think they would be in
any
danger, but it was the right thing to say. They moved back a few steps.
         I noticed at this point that two cars had stopped and their drivers
were watching. I hope they were part of a neighborhood watch and were
concerned
about the kids. One can never be too careful.
         I checked out my belt for what I would need and couldn't find it. I
looked back to see that my teammates had at last caught up and were coming
into
the clearing. I would consult with them only as a last alternative; The
Silver
Knight should not appear confused.
         The cat meowed piteously as do all cats who realize they're in
trouble, although I suppose it's equally possible that she was announcing
she
was now queen of the world and everyone had to look up to her. I like cats,
but
I've never quite understood them.
         In a few moments I found what I needed on the wrist controls:
little
switches instructed the gloves to open spike-hooks along the metallic finger
bands. I wonder if that fellow in Gotham City uses the same kind of thing? I
used mine to help me scale the pole. I don't think the hooks in concert with
the gloves are actually strong enough to do what I made them appear to do,
but
in some cases appearances are everything.
         I got up the pole okay, up to the crossbars, which held ceramic
insulators and other dangerous electric transmission devices. There I paused
because it finally occurred to me that I was wearing a lot of metal. I had
the
gloves retract the hooks, but that wasn't nearly enough in the way of
precautions. I have fairly broad shoulders and passing between the lines
without touching any of them would have been tricky. Too, the suit's cape
touching two or more lines could have been disastrous.
         However, as cats will, the one I was intent on rescuing took things
into her own paws.
         She jumped.
         I've read that cats who jump or fall from great heights actually
can
land with little injury if the distance is great enough to give them time to
adjust their attitude (both physical and, I suspect, mental). But that
distance
has been gauged at over eight stories. The distance this cat was planning to
span, from pole top to street (yes, the hard, concrete street) in a great
arc,
was not sufficient to allow her to acquire any helpful aerodynamic
qualities.
         She'd kill herself, and I could be to blame.
         So I jumped right after her.
         Which was *really stupid*, I know, but I couldn't help it, it was a
natural reaction. I grabbed the cat in mid air, pulled her to my chest where
she struggled for only a moment, and we floated down to the sidewalk at a
leisurely rate, maybe just a little slower than falling.
         (Note: if I ever have to fake a fall from a high place, should I
scream? It would be okay for Clark Kent, Normal Guy, but would it be
becoming
of The Silver Knight?)
         The children immediately surrounded me and were full of chatter
describing my weirdo wonderful deed. More cars had stopped and people were
leaving them and rushing in our direction.
         The cat was initially pissed but calmed down quickly enough. Cats
usually do when I hold them. Maybe it's because their claws have no effect
on
me, but I do try to soothe them. When she started purring, I handed her to
her
mistress and instructed, "Take your kitty back inside and don't bring her
out
again unless your mother says you can."
         Wide eyed, she nodded seriously and said, "Yessir!"
         Wouldn't you know, she immediately turned and headed for the street
without checking for traffic. I looked at the oldest-looking child, the boy
who
had corrected me about the cat's sex, and pointed at the girl. "Help her get
across safely!"
         He nodded and ran to stop her. Half the other children and their
dogs
joined him and they all instructed the little girl on how to cross the
street
properly. The remaining children simply stood gazing up at me. Several
adults
were gazing from a distance, too.
         I concentrated on the kids, though, and the great opportunity to do
a
little more instructing. "Children, your dogs should be watched very
carefully.
Better yet, they should be kept on leashes so they don't run out into the
street like that little girl almost did."
         They nodded. But they didn't move.
         "Now please go round up your dogs and take care of them. They
depend
on you to tell them what to do."
         They nodded again... and still didn't move, still gazing.
         I understand why they stuck to me (because I was new and
different),
but I couldn't allow it. "Well, thank you all for assisting me. Now, go
on...
Go on... Git!"
         They turned and ran screaming after their dogs. But it was joyful,
fun
screaming, and the dogs barked playfully and didn't take a second look at
me. I
think if the dogs had sensed their kids were in danger, they would have
rushed
to the rescue.
         The adults were another matter. A middle-aged black woman and a
tall,
overweight white man were clearly concerned about all that they had
witnessed.
>From a safe distance, the woman pointed at me. "Just who are you, young
man?"
         This was Lois Lane's chance. She had organized something and put it
into action. She ran up between me and the adult witnesses. She was trailed
by
Jimmy, who was rapidly taking pictures, and Lucy and Mark, who began fussing
with my cape.
         Lois Lane addressed the audience. "Didn't you love it? I know you
did!
Watch for The Silver Knight, premiering next month on some... TV station or
another--all the networks want us! You won't be disappointed! We're going to
make a big splash, and Metropolis will have a real hero at last!"
         Her audience smiled, nodded and clearly loved the idea... that they
had witnessed a surprise television shoot.
         Clever, I thought, except if people think it's TV, will they take
The
Silver Knight as seriously as Lois Lane wants them to? However, the adults
did
turn away, not following up on their curiosity, which is good. They shook
their
heads at each other and laughed about how Metropolis was turning into
another
Hollywood.
         Lois Lane grabbed my arm, said loud enough for all to hear, "Well,
back to the set!" and began pulling me away.
         As we headed back to the van, I mentioned to Mark the possible
problem
with the glove hooks not sustaining my weight, but he was preoccupied
watching
Lois Lane fume. Jimmy and Lucy looked nervous, too. Something was wrong and
I
soon found out what it was.
         When we reached the safety of the forest glade, they checked to see
that we hadn't been followed. We were alone. Maybe big city residents aren't
interested in television productions; maybe they see them all the time. In
Smallville, TV producers would have to beat off bystanders offering to help
out.
         I might have to beat off Lois Lane. She pulled off her sunglasses
and
let me have the full force of her (luscious,) big, (beautiful,) brown eyes.
"You *idiot*! You almost ruined *every* thing!"
         At that time I was not thinking the words in parenthesis above. Now
for some reason I am. I'm certainly not as upset now as I was then.
         Then I was thinking: Wha...? Taking off the helmet so I could argue
better gave me a moment to compose a calm, casual reply that I thought would
lead to a discussion rather than an argument. Guess how far *that* got.
         I said: "I'm not supposed to do that kind of thing? Pray tell, what
kind of thing am I *supposed* to be doing?"
         Now that I've written it out, I can see that maybe I wasn't all
that
calm. Maybe I sounded a little sarcastic, but I think I was entitled.
         She certainly looked surprised. "Bigger things! Much bigger
things!"
         "Real *hero* things!" Jimmy said in a voice meant to make an
impression.
         "Things that will make a big impact!" Lucy agreed, and she accented
her words by punching the air with her small, swift fist.
         "Kewl things," Mark said, "though I think what you did was also
pretty
cool."
         The other three looked at him fiercely, as though he weren't
following
the game plan.
         He shrugged. "Hey, I'm new here, and *I* think using the cape as an
emergency parafoil was a great idea! It really slowed his fall!"
         "Well," Jimmy admitted, "you did look like you were flying, CK. I
got
one picture but it wasn't a clear shot."
         "Too bad," I said, but I was thinking "Whew!" I smiled, "It felt
like
I was flying." It was as close as I'll get to flying, anyway, and *in
public!*
         "You could have *broken your neck*!" Lois Lane exclaimed. "That cat
would have been just fine! I want you to *think* before you act - I want
you to
consult with me the next time you get some big, stupid idea! This is a *team
effort* - remember?!"
         "And you're in charge."
         "Yes!"
         "And I'm a foot soldier."
         She blinked. Huh? "No! You're The Silver Knight." She said this
quickly, "thsilvrnite." She was exasperated. "Don't get all upset on me,
because frankly I don't have time for it on top of everything else." She
turned
and began to pace, threatening to wear a path in the thick grass. "We're
working out a schedule of appearances and feats for The Silver Knight to
perform that will let the world know that it has a real hero at last!"
         A real *fake* hero... who has no clue....

(continued)
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 05:49:20 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      NEW: My Journal, Day 7, Part 07/07
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TITLE: My Journal
         Day 7, Monday, May 9, PART 07 of 07
         AUTHOR Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com
         RATING P/PG-13
         FEEDBACK Comments welcome in all forums
         No Editing please (though you can fix typos)

         Which is when I finally had to admit to myself what I've known all
along, that this whole thing wasn't working. There were lots of reasons and
one
of them was simple: "There's a schedule?" That was a natural thing to have,
yes, but what wasn't natural was, "Are you thinking of maybe letting *me*
in on
it someday?"
         She rolled her eyes heavenward, but I doubt she noticed the fairly
clear blue sky (a breeze was keeping the pollution moving east) or the birds
singing happily in the trees around us. "Yes!"
         "When?"
         Automatically: "Someday!"
         The finality of that pronouncement shut me up. I just closed my
mouth
because I could think of nothing to say ("think" being the operative word
here).
         Looking back at the situation, I'm absolutely sure that if she had
taken the time to *think* about her answers, she... might have answered the
very same way.
         No, maybe she would have been a little less commanding, a little
more
polite, a little more understanding of my need to feel that I was a member
of
the team and not just the latest candidate for hero. I'm able to describe
this
now; I only felt it then. I really enjoy being a team member, being part of
a
group, being useful and needed, and laughed with and kidded. I enjoy being
normal. Instead, for her and maybe for all her team, I was another problem
"on
top of everything else."
         I did realize that I, Clark Kent, was not necessarily the center of
her attention. She has other things to do and maybe at that point they were
overwhelming her and my little part was supposed to go a lot more smoothly
than
it did. I told myself that maybe she really does have it all thought out
(except for last-minute details). Maybe she is an excellent leader (except
that
I don't think she likes people very much). Maybe she doesn't feel she can
trust
anyone (she definitely doesn't trust me). Maybe I really can just relax and
do
as I'm told... except I'm tired of doing that.
         Maybe if I had approached her differently we could have worked
something out.
Or maybe I should stop taking all the blame for the fact that there are
simply
impenetrable barriers between us.
         In that one moment I gained a tentative insight about the
situation,
with more insights to come. Now that I've had time to add them up, I think I
understand things much better. More on this later.
         Seeing herself unchallenged at last, she turned to her other team
members and they began discussing her "new idea" of moving Section C of
Plan 43
up and trying it this afternoon. Lucy and Jimmy liked it, and Mark had a few
suggestions. They all knew the plan.
         Besides my small insight, I knew one more thing: that I didn't know
squat about their plan and I shouldn't have to learn it by eavesdropping.
         Do I have to say that I was very upset? I was *duck* upset, and now
I
know that my silence was a symptom. Mom and Dad, you would have recognized
it
right away. When I get upset, I withdraw and try to think of ways to fix
things
so everyone will be happy again (even if I'm not). When it doesn't work,
which
usually means I can't think of anything to do, I tend to withdraw entirely
so I
won't bother anyone anymore. I think sometimes I take too much blame for
things
I'm not to blame for.
         I said to her back, "Oh-kay," returned to the van, climbed in and
began taking off the suit.
         Either she noticed or her teammates did and pointed it out to her.
She
said in a "what now?" voice: "Oh, just a minute...." She followed me right
in
and the others followed her and stood outside looking in, gawking, until she
slid the door shut with a slam.
         She turned to me. "What are you doing??"
         "Dressing."
         "We're not done yet!"
         "We're not done yet doing what? Or were you planning to surprise me
about that, too?"
         She calmed a little. "We need to see how the suit does in natural
conditions. That's why we came out here. It's less dusty than the quarry."
         I was taking off the metallic leg and feet bands. I discovered that
it's easier to take them off after removing the arm and hand bands. It's
easiest of all to not have help to take the suit off. I laid each piece
aside
carefully for the next person she'd get to try them on. "Well, now you've
seen
how it does on a sunny spring day."
         She clenched her hands into fists and then burst and threw her
hands
out, as though begging for understanding and just a little cooperation from
the
universe. "What I *saw*, Kent, was an irresponsible act that could have
blown
our whole plan - don't *you* see that?"
         "No. I acted, Ms. Lane, because I heard someone in trouble and I
wanted to help them. It doesn't matter that it was a cat and some kids." I
pointed in their direction. "Helping them made me feel more useful than I
have
in... in ages. Ever. You can't *know* how that feels. As it is, I can't act
according to your plan because, for reasons I can*not* understand, no one
has
ever thought to *tell* me your plan - okay?" I finished taking off the
hardware
and then stripped off the body stocking and tossed it at her.
         She was so surprised that it landed on her head and for a moment
either the sleeves or the leggings fell like a drapes over her face. She
ripped
off the thing and stared at me. I noted this for a moment and then returned
to
concentrating on what I was doing. Perversely, I hoped briefly that she
liked
what she saw of me, which was more than she saw Thursday night though the
lighting in the back of the van was worse.
         I concluded, "Let someone who does know your plan, like *you*, wear
all this stuff."
         I grabbed my slacks and pulled them on. My wallet was still in
place.
I don't believe they would have stolen it but it might have fallen out.
"Find
someone who loves following orders blindly," I took my shirt from the
hanger,
"and who can take a lot of verbal abuse," I put the shirt on, "and I'm sure
everyone will be very happy!"
         "You can't do this!"
         "Watch me." I sat down on a convenient bench, pulled on my socks
and
shoes smoothly and rapidly (not too rapidly), and then stood up.
         "And I'm *not* verbally abusing you, Kent!"
         I paused only long enough to look right at her and say, "Just
*listen*
to yourself! *I've* had to do it for long enough."
         I removed my jacket from its hanger, pulled it on and took my tie
from
one of the pockets. This was the last of my clothing. I was finished.
         "No!" She literally threw herself in front of the sliding door. I
could have literally picked her up and literally set her aside, but instead
I
literally turned and stepped into the front portion of the van and literally
departed through the open passenger-side door.
         That is too many "literally"s, I know, but forgive me, I was just
that
pissed.
         I walked away without a word, not replying to the "Hey, what's up,
man?" or the "CK, where are you going?"
         Lucy ran up and walked backward for a few steps in front of me.
"Clark, can't we talk about it? Can't we help?"
         "No. I'm sorry, Lucy, but I'm clearly not cut out for this job or
for
taking orders from your sister, so I'm going to stop wasting everyone's
time."
         Lucy is not the bully her sister is but she almost got her sister's
determined look right. She stopped in front of me and insisted, "But you
*are*
cut out for it!"
         I walked around her and as I did so I said, "No, I don't think so.
Goodbye, Lucy."
         I imagine she just stood there, at a loss. I heard her whimper,
"Oh..." and sigh, "Goodbye...."
         Lois Lane, probably not caring whether or not I could hear her,
said,
"Lucy, let him go, we don't need him."
         I kept walking, reaching the sidewalk and heading north toward some
major thoroughfare as though I was wrapping up a pleasant walk in the park.
         But I concentrated one part of my mind on the most important act of
eavesdropping that I think I've ever done.
         Lucy got over her paralysis quickly and ganged up on her older
sister.
"Yes, we *do* need him!"
         Jimmy said, "I think we sort of do, Lois. He's right for
everything."
         Mark said, "I thought he was cool. The Silver Knight has to be
cool,
and he was cool. He'd make a good black man if he were black. The Silver
Knight
would be cooler if he were black, but that guy was all right."
         Firmly: "We don't need him - He wasn't cool - He *wasn't* right."
         "I bet he has rhythm though."
         And, finally, this is what eavesdropping gets me:
         Lucy: "You said just this morning he was perfect!"
         "Well, I was wrong. It happens."
         "Next you'll deny you admitted you thought his eyes were to die
for!"
         She likes *my* eyes, too!
         That's exactly what I thought as soon as I heard the claim. It
still
makes me a little warm for some reason as I type this. I don't want it to,
but
it does.
         It gets worse!
         "Luce! That's *not* important!"
         Note: she did not deny Lucy's allegation.
         "Sure it is! The other guys, you thought they all had something
wrong,
and I agree."
         "Yeah," Jimmy said. "They were duds. You should have chased them
out
sooner than you did Clark."
         "I didn't chase him out."
         "They had low IQs," Mark said, "or fear of heights or egos the
size of
the Metrodome or they wanted to grope you--"
         "And you worked and worked with them--"
         "But they were still duds."
         "All right, yes. That just means we work harder to find the right
man."
         "One who's smart, brave, humble, *and* whose as good looking as
Clark--"
         "No! That's not a qualification!"
         "Well, I hope not because *everyone* could see how you were
constantly
*drooling* over--"
         At that moment an oil tanker truck passing on the street I was
approaching blasted its horn and nearly deafened me, so I have no idea if
Lois
Lane denied that last accusation or if she sidestepped it, too.
         But do I ever have food for thought now!
         I'll give you a taste of my theory: apparently she tried her best
to
be polite, generous and helpful to previous candidates for Silver
Knighthood.
Given what *I've* seen of her, that must have been quite a strain,
especially
if they were all duds in one form or another. She's grown progressively
disheartened, sarcastic and pessimistic about her project. She keeps
plugging
along though and by the time I'm dragged up to bat she's predetermined that
I'll fail like the rest. It doesn't matter if I hit, say, a double and have
a
good chance of making it home, she's going to keep me at arm's distance at
least, as not to be disappointed again.
         Add to that, if she really is attracted by one or more of my
physical
attributes (because my charming personality seems to turn her off), that's
got
to make it even more difficult for her to figure out the proper approach to
me.
She tells herself she can't like me because it interferes with the quest
she's
on and I'm bound to fail anyway, like the others, so in reaction she goes
overboard to keep me in place, which is a place away from her and her
teammates.
         Or something like that.
         It sounds plausible, but I guess I'll never know now. I don't
expect
to see her again and I certainly don't expect to talk to her about my
revelation.
         Mom, if you can think of any other explanations, let me know. Until
then, I think I'll dream tonight about being drooled on and then try to let
it
all go and tomorrow concentrate my efforts on how to best respond to Lex
Luthor's plans for me.
         What a strange day.
         The rest of the afternoon went quietly. I caught a bus back into
the
center of town (as it turned out, I could have walked) and stopped back in
at
the Planet. Mr. White, preparing to leave, was surprised to see me, but he
was
across the room and didn't say anything. There were no notes on my desk
referring to Dr. Platt, which disappointed me. I wish I knew where to start
looking for him, but I just don't know the city at all well yet, if he's
even
still here.
         I read the evening edition of the paper, did a little filing, and
then
left at about six, walking this time, heading back here to the flophouse. I
took yet another route and discovered a bit more about the area.
         No one visited my room while I was out today. Nothing was changed:
nothing added, nothing subtracted, no hints of green thread or anything else
green. I'm not sure if I should be relieved or apprehensive - is it over
now,
really all over? Tomorrow I'll bring a box from work and pack up all the
food
bribes. I'll offer it to Jimmy (he can come for it on his motorcycle), or
if he
doesn't want it, on Wednesday I'll take it to a homeless shelter.
         I think that on Wednesday I may start looking for an apartment,
too.
I'll try to corner Mr. White for a brief word ("Sir, is it a good idea for
me
to begin looking for an apartment?"). I think it will be easier to just ask
that than to get an appointment for a formal meeting. I think he should have
some idea after almost a week if he wants to keep me on at least through my
probation period. Yes, I know what Lois Lane said he told her on Sunday, but
I
want to hear it from Mr. White himself.
         Unfortunately, I have to take into consideration that Lois Lane may
talk to him and may not be very complimentary about me. She may now hate my
eyes and everything else about me, so I can't depend on her representing my
side of the story fairly. I don't think she'd actively sabotage me, but I
have
to be prepared for that eventuality.
         If Mr. White is unhappy, then I'll have to use my secret weapon:
I'll
have to find a way to take him aside, to an unbugged place, and tell him Lex
Luthor's plan. Mr. White will surely put aside anything Lois Lane says
about me
in the interest of allowing me to follow up on Luthor. If I can do a good
job
on that, my failure to become Lois Lane's Silver Knight shouldn't matter at
all.
         Well, there it is. That was my day today. From riding in a Cadillac
with one of the world's richest men to severing my ties with one of the
world's
craziest women. I'm not sure how I can top that or that I want to. I hope
tomorrow is calm.

[to be continued....]

[Your real author thanks my proofers and creative consultants, Pat H.,
Jeanne
P., Sandy McD. and Steve H.]

(continued)
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 09:14:45 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Margaret Brignell <brignell@SYMPATICO.CA>
Subject:      Re: Come to the "N" Side, Hazel, Non-Nfic Reader!
In-Reply-To:  <3778275C.63198D11@erols.com>
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At 09:54 PM 6/28/1999 -0400, Sandy
>DARTH SANDY
>Your future lies with us, Hazel, non-nfic reader.
>Now you will embrace the "N" side.
>Hubba Hubba-Wan knew this to be true.

You know this is *exactly* why I don't read nfic.  It seems like the
writers of nfic have no respect for either their readers or the characters
they are manipulating.

Unlike Hazel, I do not have any religious scruples about nfic.  I JUST
DON'T LIKE IT!  All the ridicule in the world is not going to convince me
that nfic is a "higher" calling.

And before you start sending me all the "good" reasons I should be reading
nfic (which always sound to me like a drug addict trying to push *their*
choice of mind-altering substance on me), forget it.  I've heard them all.
I even bought it at the beginning.  I've read nfic.  That's why I don't
read it any more. I have seen the dark side...and I'd rather stick with the
light.

Margaret
Who has a sense of humour, but just doesn't like being sneered at for her
choice in non-reading.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Margaret Brignell
brignell@sympatico.ca
Ottawa, Canada
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 11:18:13 EST
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         optical delusion of consciousness <kubitc@KENYON.EDU>
Subject:      Re: babble, rant,
              tangents (was Re: Off Topic: Babble on Star War...

<< If you mean a sentence is written and then the author puts "Lois
babbled",
the author may have used that label to impart the fact that it was one of
Lois' lightening run-on wonders. Since there's no way simply by reading to
know whether the character is speaking in a rapid-fire manner, the author
often labels the sentence to help the reader properly visualize the scene.
This is true in most cases when an author wants the reader to understand the
exact mood, tone or demeanor of the character.

"Give me the paper, Clark."

"Give me the paper, Clark," she hissed through clinched teeth.

"Give me the paper, Clark," she said, and then dissolved into helpless
laughter. >>

As someone who writes fanfic (among other things) I obviously see the need
for
the descriptive phrases you used above. However, one of my problems with
'babble' in fanfic is, along the lines of your example,

"Give me the paper, Clark, I need it," Lois babbled.

(Comma splice intended ;) Whatever definition of 'babble' you use, this
doesn't
seem to qualify. Bigger than my pet peeve about using 'babble' to begin
with, I
am more bothered when people use it in fanfic as in my example. I wouldn't
have
personally used it in your true 'babble' example (not shown) because, like
Pam,
I didn't think it was necessary and I tend to be a wordy writer, so I like
to
cut to make my own writing more readable. But someone else using it there
wouldn't have botherd me because I can see why they'd use it. I can't see
why
it would be used in my example above.

Along those lines is when a writer appears to be using Lois's 'babble' to
completely define her character. She's more than that. Just making a
character
speak in 'babble' doesn't make her Lois. I know writers do that with other
characters and it bothers me just as much. Just because a man flies, that
doesn't mean he's Clark. He has to act like Clark, talk like Clark, do the
things we, as fans of the show, came to believe Clark would do, even
(especially) in situations we didn't see him face on the show. Perhaps the
hardest thing about writing fanfic is maintaining your characters'
integrity.

I know a (long) while back, we had a discussion of difficult-to-write
characters and this sort of goes along with that. That's a challenge of
writing
fanfic; your readers already know your characters (sometimes better than you
do). If you make the character do something they "wouldn't do," your readers
know and that diminishes your story. Sometimes this can be maneuvered around
if
you give enough reason for the character's action beforehand, but it's
tough.

To give a radical example (which I don't think anyone's written): you write
a
fanfic where Lois kills Clark ;) I know many of you wouldn't read this as it
would be a deathfic, but it's just an example. For this to be believable,
you're gonna have to do a lot of really good writing and planning, and even
then, good luck.

-Christy (who just now received Zoom's e-mail, yet received Pam's response
about the 'babble engine' at least a day ago- weird)
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 11:13:03 -0500
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         "B.B. Medos" <bbmedos@YAHOO.COM>
Subject:      Re: Come to the "N" Side, Hazel, Non-Nfic Reader!

On Thursday, July 01, 1999 8:15 AM, Margaret Brignell
[SMTP:brignell@SYMPATICO.CA] wrote:
> At 09:54 PM 6/28/1999 -0400, Sandy
> >DARTH SANDY
> >Your future lies with us, Hazel, non-nfic reader.
> >Now you will embrace the "N" side.
> >Hubba Hubba-Wan knew this to be true.
>
> You know this is *exactly* why I don't read nfic.  It seems like the
> writers of nfic have no respect for either their readers or the characters
> they are manipulating.

Okay, I wrote the following on Monday then shelved it because Zoom requested
the topic be dropped and I wasn't sure whether my comments would be
considered
doing so or not. I thought they were addressing another side issue to the
anti/pro nfic one, but I was willing to let it go just to be cooperative.
However, the above statement about writers of nfic manipulating the
characters
only brings things right back to what I wanted to say in the first place.
Which
is that some seem to be making assumptions that aren't true here, at least
for
me and I have to believe that they're also not true for most folc I've met
who
have written stories that fall into the nfic category. For one thing, all
writers manipulate characters and to see anyone singling out individuals who
write nfic as doing it for some nefarious purpose or because they don't
respect
the characters bothers me.

A LOT.

One big reason it does bother me so much personally is that the very reason
I
ended up having a story become nfic right before my eyes in the first place
was
because I wanted to deal with an extremely adult issue between Lois & Clark
that I felt couldn't be adequately done with vague references and innuendo.
Once that particular door was opened, I felt I either had deal with it and
all
it's ramifications or I WOULDN'T be respecting the characters or the
reader's
intelligence. And even then I've always wished I was a more experienced
writer
so that I could've been a lot more specific and detailed than what I was
able
to manage in order to do adequate justice to the topic.

All that said, here's what I wrote on Monday. It's from the heart, I hope
everyone takes it that way.

***************

Mr. D8a [SMTP:James.Tull@EMRSN.COM] wrote:
> All that being said I do not want this to become a Nfic vs Non-Nfic
> battleground with Zoom (Hi Mom :-)) booting us off left and right.  If any
> of you Nfic writers wish to submit non-Nfic to the list I will gladly read
> it.
> No hard feeling?

More a baffled feeling. Individual convictions are simply that. Whatever, I
respect them. But I gotta admit to being a little bothered by seeing writers
referred to as nfic writers as opposed to regular fic writers. I don't know
what it is exactly that's annoying about that use of the terminology, but
maybe
it just comes across as imposing a judgement, or maybe a rating would be a
more
appropriate term here, on the writer and not the individual story. As far as
I
know, most of the individuals I've met in FoLC fanfiction simply write
stories
. . . if they turn out to be more appropriate for the nfic list than the
regular one, so be it. If not, then so be that too. It comes across as a tad
stereotypical to imply otherwise, I guess.

Now, one can say I am simply burying my head in the sand or being innocent
about the entire thing, but I tend to believe that the best "fanfic" writers
simply write the story that's in their heads and deal with the "rating"
aspect
once that's done. They might know beforehand that their idea is going to go
over a certain mental or rather physical line, but personally, I don't work
that way and I find it hard to believe that most experienced writers do on
more
than a surface level. That would be too limiting to the creative process.
They
find their own comfort zone and let it flow. Otherwise, nothing happens, and
this I do know from personal experience because I learned real fast to
simply
write the story that I feel comfortable writing and see what happens. That
only
one fanfiction I've written has crossed that imaginary line is interesting
to
me, but I haven't intentionally held back on the others either. And I
certainly
don't set out requiring any of them to be nfic because to me that would
defeat
the entire purpose of telling a story. Of course, I may be completely
talking
through my hat here because I have written only one story that ended up in
that
range. So, am I completely alone in working without a rating of any kind in
mind? Do any of you honestly set out to write an nfic and only an nfic?

I know for sure that I never knew beforehand that Sanctuary was going to be
nfic. It may sound totally naive and irresponsible to some to say this but
it
did just happen that way. I don't even think it occurred to me that it was
veering over into nfic territory until some friends who were reading the
original drafts informed me after one particular scene that "Of course,
you'll
have to send it to the nfic list, you know." My reaction was along the lines
one of Lois' typical wide-eyed, high-pitched squeaks of "What?" Then after I
thought about it, it made sense based on the scene they were commenting on,
but
it really hadn't occurred to me until they pointed it out. Of course, that
story is probably one of the least, er, blatantly graphic L&C nfics out
there,
so that's probably where my, ahem . . . innocent (?) confusion came into it.
:-D

I apparently hadn't learned to shift the correct gears in my brain at that
point when thinking about this kind of stuff. <g> (Speaking of which, has
anyone ever compared a list of relative ratings to a list of nfic stories
just
to see how many fall where?) And there's only one fanfiction I've written so
far that I have set out to have it be pg or less and that's NEBS because I'm
dedicating it to my daughter and son. He was only eleven when I started
writing
it which created a definite limit in my mind as to what kind of story I was
trying to do. So for it I do have this mental roadblock that keeps reminding
me
that if I wouldn't feel comfortable reading it to him, it ain't going in
there.
<bg> That said, I have no idea what I'll end up doing if there is a scene
that
unintentionally goes "over the line" into nfic territory. Hide it on a top
shelf until he's old enough to read it? I know some would immediately
suggest
to just write two versions, but that idea really bothers me on a certain
level.
Either it is the story I wanted to write or it isn't. If it is, then it can
wait until he's old enough to make his own decisions about the content. The
neat thing about fanfiction is that we have that freedom because we aren't
attempting to "sell" the stories to a particular audience. We can just tell
the
story that's in our hearts, hopefully without getting judged as being a
certain
kind of person in the process.

Just a thought,
No hard feelings?
Beverly :-)

=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 12:52:40 -0500
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         ziss <zis-s@ACTCOM.CO.IL>
Subject:      Re: Come to the "N" Side, Hazel, Non-Nfic Reader!
In-Reply-To:  <01BEC3B2.B7914AE0.bbmedos@yahoo.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

Guys, as a personal request, *please* take my name off the subject line for
all future discussions under this thread. I seriously think Sandy meant
this whole thing to be taken in a light-hearted fashion, and I responded to
it long ago. It was response posts by others, not Sandy herself, who led
things in their current direction.

By now, the entire discussion has reached the uncomfortable side for me and
since I'm not part of it any more, I'd rather not be headlined either.

Thanks,

Hazel
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 19:34:00 +0100
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Yvonne Connell <yconnell@UKF.NET>
Subject:      Re: NEW STORY: Big Boys Do Fly II - Part 5/5
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1
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Wendy,

I enjoyed this story tremendously.  What a cliff-hanger!  And what on earth
possessed you to do this to us?  This is worse than the 2 and 3 parters on
TV - at least then we knew when the agony would be over <g>.

S
P
O
I
L
E
R

S
P
A
C
E
Your handling of the 'foursome' scenes was excellent - any internal
struggles you might have had with these was completely invisible.  I like
the little touches - like Conor feeling uncomfortable about Clark watching
his portrayal of Superman in the TV episodes, or Lois noticing Conor using
the same gestures as Clark.  Clark comes across nicely as the more
self-assured of the two, and I like the touch of hero-worship Conor has for
Clark - I can certainly identify with him on that one!

Any idea of any ETA for Part III?

Yvonne
(yconnell@ukf.net)
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 16:22:33 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         The Zoomway <Zoomway@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Nfic stories thread
MIME-Version: 1.0
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In a message dated 7/1/99 11:24:48 AM Central Daylight Time,
bbmedos@YAHOO.COM writes:

<< Okay, I wrote the following on Monday then shelved it because Zoom
requested
 the topic be dropped and I wasn't sure whether my comments would be
considered
 doing so or not. >>

No, I hadn't requested the thread be dropped, but I did say "don't go to
war"
over the subject matter, and that proviso still holds. There are people who
simply do *not* like nfic, period. They just don't. Respect that. This list
tops out at the PG-13 rating. If anyone wants a better or more comfortable
forum for discussing any fan fiction that exceeds that rating, then start a
list to accommodate the subject matter.  I will turn a deaf ear to the
complaints of "but I'm already on too many lists" or "I can't even read all
the mail this list generates let alone another'.  Guess what? I take the
Tommy Lee Jones stance on this: I don't care. That's *your* problem. But I
will *not* have a flame war on this list over the issue.

This is about *respect*. If some fans say they don't like something, don't
feel compelled to start a crusade to change their minds. If they're more
nebulous on the matter and say, "I hate first season, but I want to like
it,"
then they've left the door wide open for a crusade. Otherwise, take a
statement of dislike as something they're being sincere about. You're always
free to say why *you* personally like something others may dislike, but
don't
attack them personally by implying something is lacking in their character
if
they don't agree with you.

What is permissible on this list is basically what was permissible on the
series. That also includes the language ceiling, i.e., no profanity that
goes
beyond the mild oaths used on the series. This applies to *this* list. I
don't speak for the fanfic archive since I don't know if they have a
different policy. Erin, Kathy, Chris or Demi might have to speak to that
issue. Also keep in mind that there are over three hundred subscribers on
this list and some of them are very young. Hawking nfic on this list is not
only pointless, but it forces me to answer questions to very young
subscribers that I would prefer not to have to answer in the first place.

Again, if you want to have a forum where you can speak a lot more freely on
this issue, then I *urge* you to start an nfic list. At the very least,
those
who join an nfic list will not feel ambushed by subject matter they believed
in good faith would not be part of the list they joined.

Zoomway@aol.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 16:55:14 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         "Ann E. McBride" <Aerm1@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: My Journal, Day 6 and Fear of Discovery
MIME-Version: 1.0
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In a message dated 6/30/99 9:10:58 PM Eastern Daylight Time, Debby@SWCP.COM
writes:

<< >If she sent it out all at once, we'd gobble it up and get bloated. <g>

 Yeah, and then people would say "Now what?" I'd hate to write my Batman
story
 real fast then >>

Noooo.... then people would say, "Where is the next installment of Dawning?"
BTW, what Batman story?  or is that just more teasing of us poor readers?

<<but what does he know? he trolls for girls
>on the net)

This all depends on how old your son is, I guess...>>

He's 16.  Old enough to find a real one, I would think.  He reminds me of
the
conversation Perry and Jimmy had  in Virtually Destroyed where Jimmy is
trying to convince Perry to look for women on the 'net and Perry says
something about that just being electrons and pixels.  Jimmy says,"You're
describing some of my best relationships, Chief."  Hmm, I seem to have Jimmy
Olsen at home.  too bad it ain't CK. <g>

Ann
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 23:17:18 +0100
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         LabRat <labrat@UKF.NET>
Subject:      Nfic - Venting!
MIME-Version: 1.0
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Margaret wrote:

>You know this is *exactly* why I don't read nfic.  It seems like the
>writers of nfic have no respect for either their readers or the characters
>they are manipulating.

And Zoomway wrote:

>No, I hadn't requested the thread be dropped, but I did say "don't go to
war"
>over the subject matter, and that proviso still holds. There are people who
>simply do *not* like nfic, period. They just don't. Respect that. This list
>tops out at the PG-13 rating.

This is sound advice, Zoom and I can only agree with it. But why am I
increasingly getting the impression that those of us who *do* enjoy nfic
can't expect that same common courtesy and respect too? Surely, it's a two
way street?

Without any provocation that I can see, other than the simple fact that I
choose to write nfic not pg (which is surely no one's business other than my
own and those who elect to read my fanfic), and without ever once entering
into this thread, I just got insulted. Which I cannot believe any fair
minded FoLC finds acceptable.

Personally, I don't care whether someone likes nfic or not and whether they
read it or not bothers me not one jot - but I don't like *generalisations*,
period. I don't like being lumped in with a generality and I deeply resent
being told that simply because I write nfic I have no respect for those who
read my stories. The accusation that I have no respect for the characters
and am 'manipulating' them is ludicrous and unworthy even of answer. If I
didn't love and respect these characters I wouldn't be wasting my time
writing fanfic.

Generally, my philosophy on life is that it's far too short to deliberately
go out of my way to offend people and I definitely don't want to upset the
list, or provoke flame wars. But I do feel the need to defend myself from
personal attack. I did debate sending my response personally to Margaret,
but since I was insulted publicly, felt entitled to defend myself in the
public arena likewise.

 I respect your choice, Margaret. And the choice of anyone else who elects
not to read nfic. However, I do not like to be abused because my choice lies
in a different direction.

All *I* ask is that those who do not read nfic have the courtesy to afford
me the same respect which I have always offered to them. Truly, I do not
think that is much to request.

Margaret also wrote:

Margaret
Who has a sense of humour, but just doesn't like being sneered at for her
choice in non-reading.

None of us do, Margaret. Or for our reading choices either. Which is why I
post this more in sorrow than in anger and bafflement as to why you
therefore feel the need to lash out in a similiar manner at those who have
no argument with you in order to defend your pov. I believe that your beef
is with Sandy. Whether you or she has the right of the 'argument' I make no
judgement - which was why I very carefully elected to keep out of this
thread in the first place, until I was dragged in. But I'm offended that you
chose to fight *all* of us who have an opposing opinion regarding nfic to
yourself, rather than just the person who offended you in the first place.

LabRat :) (now dropping into lurk mode, saddened but much wiser)
Doc. Klein's LabRat
labrat@ukf.net

"Shut up," he explained.  --- Ring Lardner, The Young Immigrants.

'We can't all be heroes because someone has to sit on the curb and clap as
they go by.' --- Will Rogers.
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 18:33:06 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         "Demona (Angel Of The Night)" <nightangel@HOME.COM>
Subject:      NFanFIC LIST
In-Reply-To:  <dec89454.24ad2809@aol.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

At 04:22 PM 01/07/99 -0400, Zoom wrote:
>I don't speak for the fanfic archive since I don't know if they have a
>different policy. Erin, Kathy, Chris or Demi might have to speak to that
>issue. Also keep in mind that there are over three hundred subscribers on
>this list and some of them are very young.

The Fanfic archive is likewise a PG rated venue.  At present, there is no
unified web archive for Lois & Clark Nfanfic -- we'd thought about working
on one, but it's quite difficult to provide adequet security for both the
authors themselves and since such an archive would (by necessity) need to
restricted to those of legal age.  Additionally, very few web hosting
providers allow material rated over PG on their servers -- and we have no
desire to see any FoLC stories (of any rating -- PG or N), affiliated with
debasing ideals and/or the kind  X rated venues which some of the more
liberal hosting sites also subscribe to.  So it's a bit of a catch22 (no
pun intended ;)

<<Again, if you want to have a forum where you can speak a lot more freely
on
this issue, then I *urge* you to start an nfic list. At the very least,
those
who join an nfic list will not feel ambushed by subject matter they believed
in good faith would not be part of the list they joined.>>

Alright, I'll step up to the plate.  I agree with Zoom completely on this
issue in so far as it is distressing that there has been an increasingly
agressive trend regarding this issue, so to alleviate that, I've done
something similar to what LOISCLA did -- I've put up a discussion list for
NFANFIC (Lord help me ;)

Since I also run a web message board forum for L&C and work on the PG
Archive, I would welcome email from any other FoLCs who wish to assist in
the moderation/maintenance of this list on a regular basis as well, though
if there are a great many requests, please note that I will only be able to
accomodate two, perhaps three list nannies ;)  If you're interested, please
write to me at Demi22@aol.com

Hosting an adult discussion venue is touchy, at best.  The nature of the
WWW makes it so, and I have a fair amount of experience diseminating
passwords, etc.. for such forums.  Therefore I am going to do something
radical here.  In the interest of saving the sanity of whomever would
filter entrance requests, I am going to allow anyone who is interested to
subscribe to this list.   Why?  Because I've done a lot of this before and
it's very simple for a 14 year old to send me an email stating that they
are over 18.  I have no way to verify anyone's accuracy of statement.  The
trick is to collect 'agreements' from all those who subscribe, and in the
end, it's up the the list community as a whole to maintain their own
integrity.  Additionally, the fact of the matter remains that it continues
to be up to the parents of this generation to police their own children.
This list is hosted on OneList.  If there are problems craeted by
*anyone*.. the list will simply shut down all together -- period.

The concept of the list will be open and stated to anyone wishing access,
as follows:

A discussion list dedicated to the topic of Lois & Clark: The New
Adventures Of Superman NFanfiction Stories.  This list will discuss and
share fan fiction rated above PG-14 which WILL contain romantic/sensual
content not suitable for minors.  Persons under the legal age of 18 years
are not permitted access to this discussion forum.

This list will also in *no way* act as a replacement to Debby & Joyce's
cooperative NFic distribution effort (which I would urge authors to
continue to use in order to distribute their own personal work -- for
security reasons) -- This list will be primarily to DISCUSS Nfic, once
distributed, and therefore, you should be subscribed to both parties in
order to participate fully.

Those who subscribe will have agreed to the concept of the list on the web
subscription form, and will have received a confirmation email reiterating
that the admittance of minors is not permitted and that compliance with
those stiulations has been agreed to upon subscription, or the subscription
must be forfieted.  That is just as much 'security' as asking people to
provide an email stating that they are of legal age in advance, IMHO -- the
same amount of warning is applied.

Again, I reiterate -- this list will be hosted by Onelist and if there are
problems.. the list will simply shut down all together -- period.

To subscribe, please visit this website:

http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/lcnfanfic

The rest.. is up to you, FoLCs ;)
Demi

___________________________________________
Demi aka Demona

nightangel@home.com
http://fantasia.simplenet.com/lcfantasy/
http://www.destinyy.com/boards/

"Sometimes I think I understand everything, then I regain consciousness."
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 18:54:53 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      Re: Come to the "N" Side, Hazel, Non-Nfic Reader!
In-Reply-To:  <3779FE94.9C9CC9A2@erols.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

At 07:25 AM 06/30/1999 -0400, you wrote:
>Debby wrote:
>> At 10:37 PM 06/29/1999 -0400, you wrote:
>[SNIP]
>> >
>> >DARTH SANDY
>> >REWR-I-I-TE!  Empress Debby!... You DO NOT lounge around having
>> >desperate, ex-TV actors peel (themselves?) and feed you grapes.  You
>> >hover menacingly over your "N-Troopers," wear a dark, (peekaboo) shroud,
>> >and shoot lightning bolts out of your, um ... fingertips.
>> >
>> >Get with the program!
>>
>> Talk to my agent Murray, Darth Sandy. Then you'll know real fear. I'm not
>> moving from this idealic mountain top unless I'm assured an air
conditioned
>> (refrigerated air, not swamp cooler) trailer for myself and my (grape)
peeler.
>> And I want a megaphone so my N-Troopers can hear me and I don't have to
strain
>> my delicate voice. And I want Fridays, weekends and Mondays off, and my
own
>> flier to take my assistant and I from my trailer to Rodeo Drive. And I
want
a
>> raise for Joyce. I have a lists of my other needs around here
somewhere...
>> Until then, keep fighting the good fight and know that I'm there in
spirit
if
>> not in (peekaboo) shroud.  Check out my new video at www.sagabegins.com
>
>You're the Empress for pete's sake, not the AFL-CIO!  Be commanding!
>Off a few minions!

I *knew* there was a reason I appointed you to Darth-hood! I'll write to
them
immediately!

>> >> RETURN TO SCENE
>> [snip]
>>
>> >DARTH SANDY
>> >CUT! CUT! C-U-T!!!  As soon as I have this asthma problem looked into
>>
>> What do you expect on a wretched dusty planet? Why do you think I prefer
this
>> cool, mountain retreat? Why am I a princess
>
>Prinesses are so namsy pamsy, (unless you're a princepessa <sp?>).
>*Think Empress*, like Catherine the Great.

The great what?  Does she have her own (grape) peeler?

>> and you're a dark-shrouded
>> warrior? Why do I have a hot tub and a (grape) peeler and you have an old
>> toothbrush and a three-legged horse?
>
>Three-legged "horse"? <moves eyebrows up and down, suggestively>  And,
>he looks so cute in that toga.

I shall enclose instructions on peeling.

>> >and find an apprentice with really strong mini-Floridians
>>
>>          aligators are short-legged...
>
>Thank you, Marlin Perkins.

Your welcome :) I always try to endulge my favorite Darths.

>> >or whatever the heck that crap was Lucas dreamt up, the two of us are
>> >staging a coup.
>>
>> Oh! Oh! Oh! That's the spirit! Can we do it in Teluride?
>
>Empress Debby ... hate to tell ya, but we would be staging our coup
>d'etat against *you*.

Good luck. I have spies everywhere. Even some with three legs...>

>[snip]
>> >DARTH SANDY
>> >Apprentice -- uh, I mean -- Alexis, Non-Nfic Reader,
>> >come to the "N" Side. The Desire is with you
>> >but you are not among the initiated yet.
>>
>>          Yada yada yada
>>
>> >Darth Sandy ignites her powerful snippet of nfic....
>>
>> Now I know why I keep you on the payroll :)
>
>I've been meaning to speak with you about that. *Now* we call in the
>AFL-CIO, or the Teamsters, or perhaps SAG. ('Cause you can never find
>Jimmy Hoffa when you need him.)

He's keeping a stiff upper lip. It matches the rest of him. Or so I
understand.

>> All powerful, all knowing, all seeing
>> you know the rest.
>
>Yada, yada, yada.
>
>>
>> Debby ;)
>
>Darth Sandy, and don't you forget it.

I won't. You're on the top of the list :)

Your fan and mine,

Empress Debby
Debby@swcp.com
expecting a cooling trend tomorrow in Albuquerque,
with an official high of only around 99...
(unofficially today, 107... but it's a *dry* heat...
like on some planets I've zipped by on my way
to cool mountain tops :)
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 18:56:40 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      Re: Come to the "N" Side, Hazel, Non-Nfic Reader!
In-Reply-To:  <19990701023719.2400.qmail@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

At 08:18 PM 06/30/1999 -0500, you wrote:
>> *Think Empress*, like Catherine the Great.
>
>With your (grape) peeler, maybe you ought to think: Catherine the Grant

Hee-hee-hee! Or Catherine the Grape...! ;D

Debby
Debby@swcp.com
all for that
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 20:54:48 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Anita Hook <hook@TIAC.NET>
Subject:      Re: Nfic stories thread
In-Reply-To:  <dec89454.24ad2809@aol.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

I've been reading with great interest the debate between the fic
writers/readers only and the nfic writers/readers.

I read both genres and find most of the stories to be well written,
tasteful and captivating.  I have read nfic that bored me to death by the
second page and given up on them, as well as regular Fic.  I've read others
that are so engrossing I can't put them down and find myself rereading them.

I think Beverly really said it best from a writers perspective.  They begin
writing and before long the story takes on a life its own and flows in
whatever direction the characters and the plot takes them, whether nfic or
fic.

One of the things that drew me to the TV LnC in the first place was the
adult nature of the characters. There was no question as to the evolving
relationship between Lois and Clark and the building passion.  That's
human, its natural and writing the extension of flirtatious encounters is
to be expected.  4 years of episodes has given the writers ample plot
devices.  And IMHO the LnC writers are among the best.  Some of the stories
have blown my mind. When I first began reading "A perfume by any other
Name" I put the story aside a couple of times because of the graphic nature
of the theme.  But I finally finished it and reread it.  It was then I
realized what a powerful story it was and how important the theme was, and
I think the writer probably had a very difficult time writing it.
"Burnout" was another nfic that captured my imagination, not because of the
genre but because of the wonderful way the story ebbed and flowed reaching
a climax that was hinted at throughout the story.  Lois's dealing with
inner devils that finally burst into the open.

I love the characters of Lois and Clark and enjoy all the stories.  To me,
an example of a great use of the English language with brilliant wordplay
is  "Montrose's Toast". It has to be among the best. Phil's grasp of
language is so good you want to read it out loud just to enjoy the flavor
of the words in your mouth.  When I read "Burnout" my minds eye could see
the bantering back and forth between Lois and Clark, Labrat captured the
essence of their characters so well and so well written was the dialogue.
These are just two examples, there are so many, many well written stories
of both genres I'd have to write a 10 page post to cover them all.

I guess what I'm trying to say in a very round about way is that there is a
place for both types of FanFic and if there are readers that cannot fathom
a particular type, so be it.

Writers, just keep those creative juices flowing.  Us readers are out here
foaming at the mouth waiting for the next story both Fic and nFic.

Back to lurking
Anita
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 19:52:10 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      Re: My Journal, Day 6 and Fear of Discovery
In-Reply-To:  <84b627ab.24ad2fb2@aol.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

At 04:55 PM 07/01/1999 -0400, Ann wrote:

>In a message dated 6/30/99 9:10:58 PM Eastern Daylight Time, Debby@SWCP.COM
>writes:
>
><< >If she sent it out all at once, we'd gobble it up and get bloated. <g>
>
> Yeah, and then people would say "Now what?" I'd hate to write my Batman
story
> real fast then >>
>
>Noooo.... then people would say, "Where is the next installment of
Dawning?"

They *already* say that. At the rate I'm going, as Y2k comes thundering up
and
the phone system threatens to crash, I may put on my site and/or to the list
a
spoiler-filled outline of what I plan to do, in case it's a while before we
can
get back together again...

>BTW, what Batman story?  or is that just more teasing of us poor readers?

No, I have an idea for a short story along that line, but haven't had time
to
work on it. We all have little ideas floating (or flapping) about :)

><<but what does he know? he trolls for girls
>>on the net)
>
>This all depends on how old your son is, I guess...>>
>
>He's 16.  Old enough to find a real one, I would think.

But still too young to know what to do with her? ;)

>He reminds me of the
>conversation Perry and Jimmy had  in Virtually Destroyed where Jimmy is
>trying to convince Perry to look for women on the 'net and Perry says
>something about that just being electrons and pixels.  Jimmy says,"You're
>describing some of my best relationships, Chief."  Hmm, I seem to have
Jimmy
>Olsen at home.  too bad it ain't CK. <g>

If it were the Landis Jimmy, you might have more fun ;)

Debby
Debby@swcp.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 21:55:21 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         The Zoomway <Zoomway@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: Nfic - Venting!
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

In a message dated 7/1/99 5:20:56 PM Central Daylight Time, labrat@UKF.NET
writes:

<< This is sound advice, Zoom and I can only agree with it. But why am I
 increasingly getting the impression that those of us who *do* enjoy nfic
 can't expect that same common courtesy and respect too? Surely, it's a two
 way street? >>

Yes, certainly. While there has generally been a "live and let live"
philosophy on the issue of discussing nfic on this list, some became
insulted
or angry when they felt they were being proselytized. Though the proposed
recruitment to the "N side" was of a humorous tongue-in-cheek nature, keep
in
mind that some fans who don't like nfic have gone through this for years now
and are simply sick of it.

I don't approve of the way the subscriber lashed out and will ask that she
apologize to the list, but had I been a better or more astute list step-mom,
I'd have stopped the thread at the recruitment drive level and suggested the
recruiter simply start an nfic list and live with the fact that there are
people who don't want nfic, don't read it, or have read it and don't like
it,
and no attempt to persuade them otherwise, even humorous ones, will succeed.
I didn't step in at that point, or any subsequent point until tempers began
to flare, and for that I apologize. I take full responsibility for how far
out of hand things became.

And please, I know in a recent post this was written, "there is a place for
both types of FanFic and if there are readers that cannot fathom a
particular
type, so be it",  I'm sure the poster meant no flame to non-nfic fans and
wasn't implying a lack of "comprehension" (fathom) on their part. But people
have gotten so stirred up about this that even innocuous statements can
easily be misinterpreted. However, now that Demi (thank you, Demi ;) has
started an Nfanfiction list, the issue is a dead one here on *this* list.
All
discussion can be taken to a list where subscribers are fully aware of the
subject matter and content. I'll likely subscribe to that list as well
because I do enjoy nfic. Again, please accept my apology for not stepping in
much sooner.

Zoomway@aol.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 19:15:53 -0700
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Cindy <chaste@CYBERHOTLINE.COM>
Subject:      Re: Come to the "N" Side, Hazel, Non-Nfic Reader!
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Debby wrote:

> At 08:18 PM 06/30/1999 -0500, you wrote:
> >> *Think Empress*, like Catherine the Great.
> >
> >With your (grape) peeler, maybe you ought to think: Catherine the Grant
>
> Hee-hee-hee! Or Catherine the Grape...! ;D
>

Tsk, Tsk, Tsk!  Talk about nfic :o)
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 19:25:28 -0700
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Jocelyn R Hoffman <dreaminglight@YAHOO.COM>
Subject:      Re: NEW STORY: Big Boys Do Fly II - Part 5/5
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii

Wendy!!  I just got aroung to reading your story (I hate work!) and I
have two things to say.  First of all, I loved it, it was really good.
And second of all, AHHH!!  Don't leave me hanging like this!!!!!!
HURRY UP!!!! <bg>
~Jocelyn
===
Jocelyn R Hoffman
dreaminglight@yahoo.com
ICQ # 17261915 <><

"You can't wait for inspiration.  You have to go after it with a club."  --
Jack London
_________________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 21:36:42 -0500
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Dennis A Arendt <d.arendt@WORLDNET.ATT.NET>
Subject:      Re: fanfic or nfanfic
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

<those who join an nfic list will not feel ambushed>
I guess, duh, that I am sort of stupid but how does one feel ambushed? If
you join an nfic list and are surprised or
upset by what you see, then back out and forget that it is there and forget
your password.  Being forgetful seems
easy to me. I don't, once again, understand why we should be divided on this
issue.  Either you read fanfic or
your read nfic or both. Maybe I'm really dumb but I don't see the problem.
Some people like romance stories,
others like mysteries and still others read anything they can get their
hands on.
I guess I came out of lurking too late but my .02 worth was burning a hole
in my head.

Brenda
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 1 Jul 1999 23:14:46 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Pam Jernigan <jernigan@BELLSOUTH.NET>
Organization: http://www.geocities.com/~chiefpam/
Subject:      Re: OT: FoLCs using Geocities
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Demi sounded the alarm a few days ago, quoting from someone named
Kristen:

> Among the *long* list of rules and regs ..  Anyone submitting
> original content, written, graphic or sound to a Yahoo! Geocities page
> apparently is giving them the right to use it themselves *however*
> they want.

Apparently, there's been quite an uproar already, and thus they've
modified their tune.  The new Terms of Service include two new sentences
at the beginning:

> 8. CONTENT SUBMITTED TO YAHOO
>
> Yahoo does not own Content you submit, unless we specifically tell you
> otherwise before you submit it. You license the Content to Yahoo as set
forth
> below for the purpose of displaying and distributing such Content on our
> network of properties and for the promotion and marketing of our services.
By
> submitting Content to any Yahoo property, you automatically grant, or
warrant
> that the owner of such Content has expressly granted, Yahoo the
royalty-free,
> perpetual, irrevocable, non-exclusive and fully sublicensable right and
license to
> use, reproduce, modify, adapt, publish, translate, create derivative works
from,
> distribute, perform and display such Content (in whole or part) worldwide
> and/or to incorporate it in other works in any form, media, or technology
now
> known or later developed.

This sounds like an improvement to me, but I'm not sure I'm fluent
enough in legalese.  Any comments?  The full terms can be found at:
http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/

(btw, I'm off on vacation tomorrow and will be on digest until 7/11 or
so :)
--
-------------------------------------------------------
Pam Jernigan            |  jernigan@bellsouth.net
ChiefPam on IRC         |
-------------------------------------------------------
People who will reed a text, rather than use software
to Czech it, are worth there wait in sliver and gold.
-------------------------------------------------------
http://www.geocities.com/~chiefpam
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 2 Jul 1999 06:47:25 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         No Name Available <Larus2407@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: OT: FoLCs using Geocities
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

In a message dated 07/01/1999 11:16:56 PM Eastern Daylight Time,
jernigan@BELLSOUTH.NET writes:

<< By
 > submitting Content to any Yahoo property, you automatically grant, or
warrant
 > that the owner of such Content has expressly granted, Yahoo the
royalty-free,
 > perpetual, irrevocable, non-exclusive and fully sublicensable right and
license to
 > use, reproduce, modify, adapt, publish, translate, create derivative
works
from,
 > distribute, perform and display such Content (in whole or part) worldwide
 > and/or to incorporate it in other works in any form, media, or technology
now
 > known or later developed.

 This sounds like an improvement to me, but I'm not sure I'm fluent
 enough in legalese.  Any comments?  >>

Yeah, only copyright owners or licensees of those have the right to produce
derivative content, translate, publish, distribute, etc. I don't think those
added sentences are anything more than a cosmetic improvement. I'd get any
original content I owned OFF their sites immediately!

Just my $ .02

--Laurie (the Ord one)
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 2 Jul 1999 12:26:17 +0100
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         LabRat <labrat@UKF.NET>
Subject:      Re: Nfic - Combo Post
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Zoomway wrote:
>
>Yes, certainly. While there has generally been a "live and let live"
>philosophy on the issue of discussing nfic on this list, some became
insulted
>or angry when they felt they were being proselytized. Though the proposed
>recruitment to the "N side" was of a humorous tongue-in-cheek nature, keep
in
>mind that some fans who don't like nfic have gone through this for years
now
>and are simply sick of it.
>
>I don't approve of the way the subscriber lashed out and will ask that she
>apologize to the list, but had I been a better or more astute list
step-mom,
>I'd have stopped the thread at the recruitment drive level and suggested
the
>recruiter simply start an nfic list and live with the fact that there are
>people who don't want nfic, don't read it, or have read it and don't like
it,
>and no attempt to persuade them otherwise, even humorous ones, will
succeed.
>I didn't step in at that point, or any subsequent point until tempers began
>to flare, and for that I apologize. I take full responsibility for how far
>out of hand things became.
>

Thank you, Zoom. All I ask for from my fellow FoLCs is parity, nothing more
and the mutual respect to allow me and them to make our own personal life
choices, respectively. The ironic thing for me is that in many respects I
was on Margaret's side of the fence as regards the original thread. Without
wishing to open up the subject again, all that I can say is that I find
attempts to change minds on either side of this subject completely
nonsensical and illogical. There's room for everyone, guys and if everyone
respects the opposing pov - no one's asking you to agree with it, just
accept that forcing your pov on the other side is not going to work and will
just promote offence - then there's no reason for this to be a devisive
issue among us at all.

It's been an uncomfortable experience and disturbing to me - who has had no
experience of how nfic is viewed in other fandoms, having had no previous
connection or contact with the genre prior to writing fanfic for LNC - to
have felt this subtle undercurrent of what I can only describe as animosity
>from a small faction of non-nfic readers, not just on this list, but
elsewhere, over the past year. I thought it was merely my own paranoia
working overtime, until last night. However, if non-nfic readers have been
on the receiving end of attempts to make them change their minds for years,
then I can begin to see that animosity as a backlash, rather than the
instigation and can understand it a little better. But I would point out
that a backlash can quickly become an avalanche. Without knowing the
background, I personally was already mighty sick of being on the receiving
end of snide comments simply because I write nfic - even slight and by proxy
as it was (no one's actually confronted me personally on the subject and
would have gotten short shrift if they had). And that's just in the small
amount of time that I've been a FoLC. I guess it was magnified for me
because not previously having been associated with nfic in previous fandoms,
it was a new experience for me to be on the receiving end in this way.

I can understand better and even sympathise as to where that feeling has
originated from in light of Zoom's comments, but I would hate to see the
wheel turn full circle with nfic writers feeling just as picked on and angry
as non-nfic FoLCs have obviously become. There's no end to that kind of
self-perpetuating cycle of irritation and anger. And I confess it worries me
to see such dissent among FoLCs.

Having now regained my inner calm on the subject (I was ever so, just a
little....ticked last night) I would like to apologise too. Not for my pov
or opinion - I feel not the slightest twinge of guilt about reading or
writing nfic and feel no need to apologise for doing so - and I still
believe that I was entitled to be angry. But I should have taken a couple of
hours to rediscover peace and harmony and inner tranquility before spitting
out a post on the subject and so I do apologise for being a tad ferocious in
my response.

Dennis wrote:

<those who join an nfic list will not feel ambushed>
I guess, duh, that I am sort of stupid but how does one feel ambushed? If
you join an nfic list and are surprised or
upset by what you see, then back out and forget that it is there and forget
your password.

I may have gotten hold of the wrong end of the stick myself entirely here,
but what I think was meant was that those joining an nfic list will not feel
ambushed - as someone joining this list might finding nfic content here.
Although I do have to say here that I haven't personally been aware of
reading anything over pg13 on this list since I signed up. Admittedly though
I wasn't that interested in the 'Darth' thread and deleted most of it
unread, so I have no way to judge there.

Finally, before I leave, Anita, what can I say but thank you for such high
praise for Burnout. It's much appreciated.

LabRat :)
Doc. Klein's LabRat
labrat@ukf.net

"Shut up," he explained.  --- Ring Lardner, The Young Immigrants.

'We can't all be heroes because someone has to sit on the curb and clap as
they go by.' --- Will Rogers.

>And please, I know in a recent post this was written, "there is a place for
>both types of FanFic and if there are readers that cannot fathom a
particular
>type, so be it",  I'm sure the poster meant no flame to non-nfic fans and
>wasn't implying a lack of "comprehension" (fathom) on their part. But
people
>have gotten so stirred up about this that even innocuous statements can
>easily be misinterpreted. However, now that Demi (thank you, Demi ;) has
>started an Nfanfiction list, the issue is a dead one here on *this* list.
All
>discussion can be taken to a list where subscribers are fully aware of the
>subject matter and content. I'll likely subscribe to that list as well
>because I do enjoy nfic. Again, please accept my apology for not stepping
in
>much sooner.
>
>Zoomway@aol.com
>
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 2 Jul 1999 12:32:41 +0100
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         LabRat <labrat@UKF.NET>
Subject:      Apology Take Two (Was Nfic - Combo)
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Boy, I'm doing *real* good today. Sigh. Apologies - just spotted that this
is supposed to be a dead thread.

LabRat :)
Doc. Klein's LabRat
labrat@ukf.net

"Shut up," he explained.  --- Ring Lardner, The Young Immigrants.

'We can't all be heroes because someone has to sit on the curb and clap as
they go by.' --- Will Rogers.
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 2 Jul 1999 09:16:15 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Charlotte Fisler <Cdfisler@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: My Journal, Day 6 & 7 - combo
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

In a message dated 6/29/99 3:27:19 AM !!!First Boot!!!, Aerm1@AOL.COM
writes:

<<
 I think it's just fine that Debby is dribbling out the Journal.  It gives
us
 all something to look forward to during what is turning out to be a very
hot,
 boring summer.  Besides, Debby's writing is like fine wine or chocolate:
 meant to be savored slowly, swirling it around and around, getting all the
 nuances, before finally swallowing it.  If she sent it out all at once,
we'd
 gobble it up and get bloated. <g> >>

Okay, here's my take.  I'm thrilled that Debbie has it all finished.
However, doling it over a period of time is not only okay, it's pretty much
vital to the plot line of this one.  It's a day by day journal and we are
supposedly reading it as it is written, i.e. each episode reports the
previous day's experiences.  It would lose some of the flavor if we read it
all at once.  I say this in spite of liking to know how things come out
before I read them (Charlotte-notorius for reading endings before she will
even start a piece of fiction)

By the way Debbie liking the week by week reading will not preclude me from
rereading the whole thing numerous times as I do for something really good.
There are always things one gets out of each later reading that one didn't
see before.  That, after all is why we read the great classics of literature
time after time.  Might have to do with how we ourselves change over time
but
I'm not sure.  What I am sure of is the this one is among the best Lois and
Clark stories I've ever read so far.

Along with Dawning.  Please don't abandon that one.

Another note:

Debbie, I love the way you turned everything from the premier completely
upside down.  A great idea especially since you still keep the essential
character the same.  This is more than elseworlds, its an inverted universe.

I love it.

In a message dated 7/1/99 1:10:49 AM !!!First Boot!!!, Debby@SWCP.COM
writes:

<<
 Albuquerque, New Mexico, which you'll never find ;)

 Debby
 Debby@swcp.com
 somewhere over the rainbow...
  >>

Wrong, Debbie, My daughter Diana lived there for three years and still owns
a
house near the University of Mexico campus that she rents out. (She's in
Denver now) Better get going or I'll lead the hordes.

Just kidding, but I have to say My Journal gets better with each episode.

Day 7

Another Wow episode.  Hopefully not spoiling anything for others, let me
just
say it's about time Clark got angry.  Great read in and of itself.  Great
characterization, not the Clark we're used to perhaps but one which it's
great to know.  And not even like the Clark in Dawning who was completely
different and equally fascinating.
Note: both your Loises and Clarks are fascinating different and yet
fundamently the same as the TV portrayals.

LOL

Charlotte
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 2 Jul 1999 17:05:54 -0500
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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From:         LLOYD RALSTON <lloydr@LDD.NET>
Subject:      Re: NFanFIC LIST
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>A discussion list dedicated to the topic of Lois & Clark: The New
>Adventures Of Superman NFanfiction Stories.  This list will discuss and
>share fan fiction rated above PG-14 which WILL contain romantic/sensual
>content not suitable for minors.  Persons under the legal age of 18 years
>are not permitted access to this discussion forum.

Just a question, I don't want to cause trouble.  But, why is the legal age
18?  Is this similar to movie ratings?  For I am a 17 year old, and have
been allowed to go into R rated movies.  Is the fanfic that much above
NC-17?  I never figured there was much difference between the two, R and
NC-17.

Thank you kindly, and Blessed Be!
CC
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 2 Jul 1999 23:22:50 +0000
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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From:         Chris Carr <c.carr@VIRGIN.NET>
Subject:      Re: NEW: Au revoir, and not good-bye (2/3) [PG]
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TITLE: Au revoir, and not good-bye
PART: 2/3
AUTHOR: Christine Carr
RATING: PG
FEEDBACK: Comments welcome Public / Private
SUMMARY: Missing scenes from BGDF.

So wrapped up in her own thoughts was she that Lois was not even
aware of Jimmy sharing the elevator car with her as she made her way
down to the lobby.  It was only when he spoke that she was forced to
acknowledge his presence.

"I can't believe he's gone," Jimmy said.

"What?" asked Lois, dragging her scattering wits together only through
a huge effort of will.  "What did you say?"

"Superman," he said.  "I can't believe he's gone.  I thought he'd
always be around, you know what I mean?"

"I know. . ." she said, softly.

"Hey," he said, "I wonder how Clark's getting on with his piece.  You
heard from him?  It'd be kind of interesting to know what's going on
in the street."  He chatted on, but Lois could no longer make sense of
what he was saying.

**Clark. . .** she thought.

It was a relief to reach the foyer, and to be able to leave Jimmy and
his conversation behind.  She headed out onto the street and decided
to walk home.  The thought of talking to anyone else was unbearable,
even to the limited extent of telling a cabby where to go.  Knowing
her luck, she would get a garrulous driver, and she did not want to
listen to one more person talking about Superman's departure.

After three blocks, though, she decided that walking had been a bad
idea.  She caught glimpses of Superman silently mouthing the words he
had spoken earlier as televisions in shop windows mutely displayed
recordings of his speech.  Street vendors listened to discussions
about his leaving on their radios, and snatches of the conversations
of passersby also reached her.  The only thing the people of
Metropolis seemed able to talk about was the alien who had won a place
in their hearts, and how he had touched their lives.

Lois's thoughts focused inwards.  **They think they're feeling bad!
What about me?  I loved him more than any of them.  I knew him better
than them, too.  How could Clark do this to me?  How could he leave me
to deal with the aftermath of his departure?  How could he have left
with no sense of closure, just as though everything was normal?  Just
as though he was coming back?**

Her pace quickened as she felt tears pricking at her eyes again.  It
would not do to break down in a public street.  She grew angry, and
she fuelled her anger, knowing that it would give her the strength to
make it home.  Only when she reached the sanctuary of her apartment
would she allow herself to deal with other, more uncomfortable,
emotions.

*****

The smooth wood of the front door felt cool as Lois leaned her
forehead against it, finally letting her body slump under the weight
of her distress.  Her long repressed tears began to flow at last.
They felt hot against her skin, fiery like her anger.  She raged
against Clark for leaving her, against the New Kryptonian's for coming
between them, and against the unfairness of a world which could bestow
and rescind the gift of love so cavalierly.  She could feel a knot in
the centre of her chest, and she knew that her heart was breaking.

Lois wiped her eyes roughly with the palms of her hands, clearing her
vision enough to enable her to reach her bedroom without bumping into
the furniture.  Once there, her eyes lit upon a photograph of Clark
and herself hugging one another, looking radiantly happy.  She looked
away, unable to stand the pain of coming upon his beloved face so
suddenly.  But then her eyes lit instead upon the stuffed toy Clark
had won for her all that time ago, at the Smallville Corn Festival,
and her brain summoned up his image of its own volition.

There were reminders of him everywhere, both at work and at home; she
could not escape them.  Superman was in the minds of the colleagues
she worked with, and in their conversations.  And, if that were not
enough, she was going to have to deal with the inevitable questions
when they realised that Clark Kent was missing, too.  The thought was
terrifying.  She did not know how she was going to find the strength
to cope with his absence.

She kicked off her shoes and sank down onto the bed.  Then, grasping
hold of the toy, and hugging it tightly to her chest, she curled up
into a foetal position on top of the bedclothes.  She allowed her
tears to flow in earnest.  Unchecked, they filled her eyes and ran
down the side of her face.

Disjointed memories filled her mind. Clark laughing with her. Clark
arguing with her. Clark holding her close when she was frightened, or
protecting her when she was in danger.  His body, solid against hers,
his hand caressing her cheek, the touch of his lips. . .  Even the bad
times they had gone through now seemed good compared to the void that
was going to be her life without him, because, even through all the
worst times, they had been together.

**Why,** she wondered, for the hundredth time, **did Zara and Ching
had to come to Earth?**

Thanks to them, Clark was lost to her.  They had taken him beyond her
reach, leaving her with no way to contact him. Star stuff, he had
returned to the stars.  Moreover, she had no frame of reference to
allow her to even imagine the life ahead of him.

The little she knew about New Krypton, she had learned second- or
third-hand, either from Zara and Ching, or from Clark, himself.  The
mental image she had constructed of their world was undoubtedly
flawed.  She hoped it was, anyway, because the picture she had of New
Krypton was hardly comforting.  She imagined it to be a barren place,
more akin to the pictures she had seen of the moon than of anywhere on
Earth.

The thought of Clark on such a world was almost beyond bearing because
the impression she had was that the bleakness of the terrain was
reflected in the Kryptonians' souls.  Clark had so much love to give,
and he gave it unstintingly.  She did not want to think of him living
in a place where those gifts would not be valued to their fullest
extent.

Lois wondered, **Why did I agree that he should go with them?  If I
had asked, he would have stayed.  I know he would.**

She remembered their visit to the New Kryptonians' space craft.  Clark
had let her do the talking, needing to know that she agreed with his
decision to go with them.  She had had to fight to keep her voice
steady as she said, "He and I have decided that he should help you in
your struggle."  In so doing, she had not only reassured him that the
choice to leave Earth was one that had been reached mutually, but she
had also demonstrated to Zara and Ching just how much of a partnership
she and Clark shared.  At the time, she had been meanly satisfied
about that.  It was more of a partnership than he could ever share
with Zara, his so-called wife.

Now, though, she regretted her actions, wishing that she had withheld
her approval of his plans.  She wished, instead of being selfless in
her love for Clark, that, just for once, she had been completely
selfish, and had made him stay.

But she had not.  Not then, and not later.

Now, she realised, more than with anyone else, she was angry with
herself, for letting him go.

She shuddered as she cried, but gradually the tremors began to ease as
she exhausted herself.  The anger slowly began to leave her, too,
leaving her feeling strangely light-headed.

 She did not know how long she stayed that way, just allowing herself
 to be sucked into the vacuum left by his absence.  It must have been
 quite a while though, because, when she next became aware of her
 surroundings, she discovered that the day had ended.  The room was
 dark, the apartment quiet.  She eased herself upright and sighed.
 Then she leaned across and switched on the bedside lamp.

In the sudden illumination, she looked down at herself.  Her dress was
creased, and she knew, without looking in the mirror, that her make-up
was smudged with sleep and tears.  "I'm a mess," she muttered, and, on
auto-pilot, she stepped out of her clothes, and headed for the
bathroom.

Standing under the shower, she could feel another wave of sorrow wash
over her.  It sapped her will, and it was a long time before she could
summon up the strength to move out from under the hot water that
pounded soothingly against her aching body.

Eventually, however, Lois stepped out of the shower, towelled herself
dry, and then went in search of something to wear.  Absentmindedly,
she pulled a brush through her hair, then she moved into the living
room.  She picked up a cushion, clutching it to her body, as she
seated herself on one of her sofas.

Again, she thought about the way Clark had left things at work.  For
all her angry questioning earlier, she knew very well why he had left
things the way he had.  He did not want closure.  He wanted - needed -
to believe that he was coming back, and that he would be able to pick
up his life exactly where they had left off.

It was for that same reason that they had not made love the night
before.  The bittersweet memories of their last night together came
upon her.

*****

Cont in part 3 / 3
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 2 Jul 1999 23:22:50 +0000
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Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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From:         Chris Carr <c.carr@VIRGIN.NET>
Subject:      Re: NEW: Au revoir, and not good-bye (3/3) [PG]
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TITLE: Au revoir, and not good-bye
PART: 3/3
AUTHOR: Christine Carr
RATING: PG
FEEDBACK: Comments welcome Public / Private
SUMMARY: Missing scenes from BGDF.

She remembered how Clark had come over.  They had talked, finding some
measure of comfort in each other's words of love.  Lois gave her
wedding ring to Clark for safe keeping, and Clark showed her his star.
 Then they embraced one another, and kissed, wanting to lose
themselves in each other.

"No. . . Lois. . ." said Clark sometime later, reluctantly releasing
his mouth from hers.  His voice was soft, husky, and full of anguish.

Lois withdrew slightly so that she could look into his eyes.  "What's
wrong, Clark?" she whispered.  "What did I do?"

Clark gently eased them both up to a sitting position, settling Lois
on his lap.  He wrapped his arms around her waist as he said, "It's
nothing that you did, Lois.  It's more what you. . . we. . . were
about to do."

She frowned.  "What's so wrong about that?" she asked.  "I want us to
have this moment."  Then, a slight note of hurt rejection creeping
into her voice, she said, "I thought that you wanted it, too."

He rushed to reassure her.  "I do, Lois.  More than anything.  You
know that."  He cast his eyes downward and muttered, "But it wouldn't
be right."

"Why not?"

"We're not. . . married."

Lois shook her head, puzzled by his reaction.  "Not legally, no.  But
we just said. . ." Her voice drifted into silence.

"I know what we said," Clark whispered.

"Then what's the problem?  I know there wasn't a priest present, but I
meant every word."

"So did I."

"Then, I don't understand."  Lois thought that she was about to cry.
She seemed to want to do that a lot lately.   "Why does the licence
matter that much to you?"

Clark rested his chin on top of her head, holding her close while
ensuring that she could not see his expression.  He closed his eyes
against his tears as he spoke.  "It's not the licence, Lois."

"Then what is it, Clark?  Tell me.  I want to understand."  She could
feel the tension in his body, and she could hear the sorrow in his
voice.  Whatever was bothering him was tearing him apart.  To reassure
him, she said, "I love you.  You love me.  We're meant to be
together."

"That's exactly it, Lois. . .   We're meant to be together and. . . I
don't know if I'm coming back."  The terrible thought that had been in
both their minds, but which neither of them had been able to voice,
was suddenly out in the open.  He was frightened of what the future
held in store, and she was frightened for him, going to a war in a
place where he would have no superpowers to protect him.  Defeating
Tez had been difficult enough, and both knew that was only a prelude
to what lay ahead.

"And that's why we should do this," Lois said softly, reaching up to
touch his cheek.  "So that, whatever happens, we'll have this memory."
Lois suddenly wanted that memory so much that it hurt.

"No," he said again.  "I don't want memories.  I want you.  And I
think about waiting for you. . . until I come back. . . until our
wedding night. . .  When I think of that, I know that I will come
back, because we're destined to be together, you and I."  There was
suddenly a smile in his voice as he added wryly, "And, believe me,
Lois, NOTHING is going to stop me fulfilling my destiny with you!"

"Oh, Clark. . ."

Suddenly serious again, he said intensely, "I don't want to take
memories of the past with me, Lois.  I want the promise of a future.
Our future."

Lois wrapped her arms around him and nestled closer against his broad
chest.  She was not sure that she agreed with him, but, if withholding
the one thing that she wanted above all others would ease Clark's
fears, then it was a price that she was prepared to pay.

Why did she want to do this so much, she suddenly wondered.  Why did
holding back give her so much pain?  She was shocked by the answer
that suddenly came to her.  She wanted the memory because she wanted
something to remember him by.  She was preparing to say good-bye,
abandoning all hope of a future with Clark.  She was preparing to
grieve, and he wasn't even gone yet!

Yet Clark, faced with the same information that she had to work with,
had looked at the situation from a different perspective.  He had
found a measure of hope in the midst of hopelessness.

How could she not have found it, too?

"You're right, Clark," she said.  "We've waited this long.  What could
a little longer hurt?"

"Thank you, Lois."  He stroked her cheek, then lifted her face to meet
his.

It was some time before they spoke again.

"Lois.  I'm scared," Clark said awkwardly, as though the words had
forced their way out into the open against his will.

"I know," replied Lois.

"You know?  I didn't mean for you to. . ."

"You didn't want me to worry, is that it?"

"Yes."

"Clark, I've told you before.  You can't always protect me."

"I know that, Lois.  But this is different."

"How is it different?"

"Usually, I'm scared for your safety.  It's been years since I've
really had to worry about my own.  But now?  This frightens me, more
than I ever thought it would."

"Clark, you're one of the bravest people I know."

"No.  Not really.  Doing what I do, going out as Superman?  That's not
really brave, not when I know that, ninety-nine times out of a
hundred, whatever I come up against won't hurt me."

Lois sighed softly.  "Clark," she said, "I'll never believe that you
aren't brave.  And I know that you're scared right now: so am I.  Who
wouldn't be?  But I also know that you will go out tomorrow, and
you'll meet your fears head on, and you'll beat them."

"Lois. . ."

"Yes?"

"Will you hold me, tonight?"

"Yes, Clark.  Just so long as you'll hold me, too."

*****

Now, alone in her apartment, she wished that things had worked out
differently.  If they had made love, would he have been able to leave
her?  Would she have been able to let him go?  Was it selfish of her
to wish that they had made those most precious of memories together,
after all?  Last night, he had given her the strength to resist, and
he had made her believe in their future.  Now, though, she did not see
how they could possibly have one, at least, not together.

She had finally ceased crying, not because her grief was gone, but
rather because her body could no longer produce the tears.

"Lois. . ."

Suddenly Clark's voice came out of nowhere, grabbing her attention.
But then she rationalised bitterly that it must be her mind playing
cruel games with her heart, because Clark was already far away.  There
was no way that he could be here, talking to her.  Yet, almost against
her will, she stood, instinctively drawn to the window.

"Lois. . ." the voice said again, and this time Lois knew she had not
imagined it.  The voice was in her mind, and she began to feel the
dying embers of her hope rekindle.

When they had discovered recently that Clark had some telepathic
powers, at least with his own people, Lois had not been altogether
surprised.  After all, she had felt his mind touch hers last
Christmas, when he came out of his coma, and, more recently, after she
had come back from the alternate universe, he had told her that he had
felt her absence from their own world during the time she had been
gone.  It was not, then, completely beyond the realms of possibility
that he could touch her with his thoughts.  Improbable, yes.
Impossible, no.  Lois had long ago learned that their relationship
showed nothing was impossible.

Lois lifted her eyes towards the night sky.

"Lois. . ." Clark said again.  She spotted a streak of silver light.
Was that, she wondered, the New Kryptonian's spaceship leaving orbit?
Or was it a shooting star?  In case it was the latter, she silently
made a wish.  **Please, let him come back to me.  Let this be *au
revoir*, and not good-bye.**

"I love you," he said, and the declaration warmed her.  And, in that
moment, she knew that, one day, her wish would be granted.

The sorrow in Lois's eyes and the downcast set of her mouth eased
slightly as she realised two things.  First, while she could not
contact Clark, he had nonetheless managed to reach out to her across
the distance of space and had contacted her.  Second, Clark had
restored her hope, just when she needed it most.  He had sent her the
sign that she had been seeking.

Lois knew then that she would find the strength to face up to the
future.  She would endure his absence, and when - when, not if - he
finally returned to her, she would be waiting for him, just as she had
promised.

END
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 2 Jul 1999 23:22:50 +0000
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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From:         Chris Carr <c.carr@VIRGIN.NET>
Subject:      Re: NEW: Au revoir, and not good-bye (1/3) [PG]
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TITLE: Au revoir, and not good-bye
PART: 1/3
AUTHOR: Christine Carr
RATING: PG
FEEDBACK: Comments welcome Public / Private
SUMMARY: Missing scenes from BGDF.

Introduction:

This story was inspired by a post to the fanfic list - some time ago
now - in which someone (sorry, I can't remember who) wrote of her
surprise when she discovered, early in the fourth season, that Lois
and Clark had not slept together in BGDF.  That got me thinking, why
not?  After all, they had more or less exchanged wedding vows as they
stood together in Lois's living room.  This fanfic gives the
explanation that I eventually came up with.  I hope it makes sense.

Big thanks to Irene who did yet another sterling job of editing for
me.  We may not agree on commas, but I took her advice on (nearly)
every other count.  If you enjoy the story, then part of the credit
goes to her.

You all know that I don't own these characters. . .  I've borrowed a
couple of (short) lines of dialogue and a lot of plot from BGDF.  My
apologies and appreciation to the original writers.  (If anyone can
tell me who actually wrote the original, I'd be grateful for the
information!)

Words inside ** are thoughts.  Words inside * are in italics.

Au revoir, and not good-bye
by Christine Carr

Lois watched as Clark hovered in front of the Daily Planet's window.
He stared at her for a few moments, naked longing in his eyes, then he
turned and flew away.  Until that moment, despite all the words of
support and encouragement she had given him, she had clung to a tiny
hope that he would not leave her.  The shock, now that he had gone,
was almost more than she could bear.  She gave voice to her anguish as
she said, "It's over," and then, "I shouldn't have let him go!"

Jonathan Kent was suddenly beside her, trying to console her with
words about how their love was worth nothing unless they were prepared
to take a chance with it.   His words sounded hollow to Lois, and
trite, but she said nothing, instead wondering if Clark had heard her
outburst.  It was wrong of her to hope he had and that, any moment
now, he would come back, saying, "I'm sorry, Lois.  So sorry I even
thought about going."  But she hoped for it, nonetheless.

The almost reverent silence that followed Superman's departure slowly
gave way to a hushed whispering.  In turn, the whispers of the
assembled crowd rose in a crescendo to a riotous hubbub as the
visiting journalists and dignitaries began to drift towards the
elevators and the stair wells.  Lois and the Kents remained detached
>from it all, standing as immobile and silent as rocks, forcing the sea
of people to flow around them.

A minute passed, then another, and another.  Finally Lois tore her
gaze away from the window as reality sank in.  Even if he had heard
her, he was not coming back.

Lois knew that this was neither the time nor the place to fall apart.
She almost did not care what the newsroom had made of her earlier
outburst, and she cried inwardly, **Let them figure out Clark's
secret, if they can!  What does it matter any more?**  However, she
realised giving in to her emotions would only add to the distress of
Clark's parents, and knowing that enabled her to find the strength to
keep the worst of her emotions locked tightly inside, hidden from
view.

"Lois!  What're you standing around for?  You've got a story to
write!"

Perry's gruff voice intruded on her thoughts.  With an effort, Lois
straightened her shoulders, blanked her face, and turned towards her
editor.

"You okay?" he asked more softly.  "I know he was a good friend of
yours."

Perry's use of the past tense stabbed at her, but she forced herself
to stay calm and say, "Yeah, Perry.  I'm fine."

He nodded thoughtfully, and she could tell that he knew she wasn't as
sanguine about the situation as she would have had him believe.
"Well, that's good, Lois," he said after a pause, apparently electing
to accept her words at face value.  "When you've got that story of
yours to me, you can head home."

Lois bent her lips into a close approximation of a smile.  "Thanks,
Perry," she said.

He had only gone a few steps when he turned back to face her.  "Oh,"
he said, as an afterthought, "when Clark comes in, tell him I'll need
his piece for the morning edition."

He turned away again, before he could see her face crumple.  **Clark.
. . ** she thought.  How easily Perry used his name!  It was as though
he expected Clark to come jogging down the ramp any second now,
smiling that easy smile of his, and saying, "Hi, Lois!  Miss me?"

Lois was suddenly aware of Martha's hand resting on her upper back,
silently imparting to her some of her strength.

Jonathan cleared his throat and said, apologetically, "Lois, we really
have to go now, if we're to catch our flight."  Lois looked at him,
aware that, if the three of them were to pretend that life was going
on as normal, as they had promised Clark they would, his parents
needed to head back to the farm.  Yet, suddenly, she did not want them
to go.  They were the only link she had with him, now.  They were also
the only people who had any idea as to what she had just lost.

"But we don't want to leave until we know that you'll be all right,
dear," said Martha, concernedly looking into Lois's face.

Lois shifted her gaze to Martha, realising that she was as reluctant
to leave as Lois was to see her go.  Still, for all their sakes, they
had to do this.  Besides, Clark had asked her to look after them for
him, yet, here they were, worrying about her.  **They shouldn't need
to do that,** she thought.  She nodded.  "I'll be all right.
Honestly."

They looked as though they did not quite believe her.  But then, why
should they, when she did not believe it, herself?  At least, with her
show of false bravado, she managed to fool them into thinking that she
would find a way to get through this somehow, and that assurance gave
Martha the impetus she needed to make her good-byes.  "Call us,"
Martha said.  "Promise us that, if you want anything. . . To talk. . .
anything. . . you'll call us."

Lois's lips compressed into a tight line as she fought back more
tears, touched again by their concern.  She could not bring herself to
say anything, but she nodded jerkily, once up and down, and they
understood her silence just as clearly as if she had spoken.

Martha patted her back one last time, then they were gone, leaving
Lois standing in the newsroom, alone with her thoughts, and with a job
to do.

She moved across to her desk, allowing herself only a brief glance
across at Clark's. It looked much as it always did.  No-one looking at
it would have guessed that its usual occupant was heading to a new
world, perhaps never to return.

What was going to happen when Clark failed to show up for work?  Lois
did not see how she could stall Perry for more than a few days, a week
or so at the outside.  How long would he wait before advertising for a
replacement?

She pushed the dismal questions from her mind, forcing herself to
focus on the story.  Her hands danced across the keyboard as she wrote
her take on Superman's farewell speech, painfully aware of how much
she was leaving out.  The story was a pale reflection of the truth.
She was not happy with it, but she knew it would satisfy Perry who
knew too little about his star reporters to want more.  More
importantly, it would satisfy the world.  Done, finally, she sent the
text to Perry, and then she prepared to leave for the day.

After an eternity, Perry signalled his approval, giving her permission
to head home.  Relieved to be able to make her escape, she walked up
the ramp and summoned the elevator, wondering all the while how she
could have so quickly abandoned hope in Clark ever returning to her,
especially after the words they had exchanged the night before.  They
both had so much to live for: he had to come back to her.  He had to!

She wished she could believe that he would.  While he had been with
her, it had been easier to believe in him, but now he was gone, and
she found her faith slipping away, too.  If only she could receive
some sign to show her that he would survive this, and that they would
be together again, someday!

Cont in part 2 / 3
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 2 Jul 1999 21:18:17 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         No Name Available <MsLoisette@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: Episode Filming
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

In a message dated 99-07-01 06:06:22 EDT, you write:

<< (no wonder Dean had stripped down to a sleeveless tank top).  >>

Ok just having that mental picture in my head gives me goose bumps!  It has
been nothing but cloudy, rainy weather, here in Seattle so i could use some
of that warm Californian sun! <G>

Alexis ;-.)
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 2 Jul 1999 21:46:43 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         No Name Available <Larus2407@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: Episode Filming
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

In a message dated 07/02/1999 9:19:15 PM Eastern Daylight Time,
MsLoisette@AOL.COM writes:

<< << (no wonder Dean had stripped down to a sleeveless tank top).  >>

 Ok just having that mental picture in my head gives me goose bumps!  It has
 been nothing but cloudy, rainy weather, here in Seattle so i could use some
 of that warm Californian sun! <G> >>

Well..... what Debby didn't emphasize is that this view was from quite a
distance away. Unfortunately. But do ask Debby to tell about speaking to
Eddie...

--Laurie (who was too shy and didn't say anything)
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 2 Jul 1999 22:24:36 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         No Name Available <MsLoisette@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: Episode Filming
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

In a message dated 99-07-02 21:47:27 EDT, you write:

<< Ok just having that mental picture in my head gives me goose bumps!  It
has
  been nothing but cloudy, rainy weather, here in Seattle so i could use
some
  of that warm Californian sun! <G> >>

 Well..... what Debby didn't emphasize is that this view was from quite a
 distance away. Unfortunately. But do ask Debby to tell about speaking to
 Eddie...
  >>

Well not that this is supposed to mean anything.. BUT the earth moved for me
this evening!  But it is not what you think...LOL!

About a half an hour ago I felt an earthquake!  It was a 5.1
All i was doing was eating dinner when the table started moving... i knew
this was not the house creaking!

I know this isn't exactly something list worthy wise.. but i just had to say
this because i am a little on edge!

Alexis ;-.)
{who needs to go look at a picture of Dean to calm down... ;) }
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 2 Jul 1999 22:27:12 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         No Name Available <MsLoisette@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: Episode Filming
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

In a message dated 99-07-02 22:25:44 EDT, you write:

<< About a half an hour ago I felt an earthquake!  It was a 5.1 >>

I take that back.. I just heard it was a 5.5  OMG!  That's the strongest i
have ever been in... sorry.. i just had to tell you this..

Where's Superman when i need him???

Alexis ;-.)
{very freaked out!}
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 2 Jul 1999 19:56:26 -0700
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         "Irene D." <sirenegold@YAHOO.COM>
Subject:      Re: NEW: Au revoir, and not good-bye (1/3) [PG]
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii

--- Chris Carr <c.carr@VIRGIN.NET> wrote:

> Big thanks to Irene who did yet another sterling job
> of editing for me.  We may not agree on commas, but >I took her
advice on (nearly) every other count.  If >you enjoy the story, then
part of the credit goes to >her.

Chris, you are too kind.  I only made a couple of small suggestions.
You deserve the congratulations for a beautifully written, sensitive
rendition of difficult emotions.  You have an incredibly delicate touch
when it comes to portraying emotional feelings in all their subtlety.

Bravo, Chris.  I'm looking forward to your next vignette.  And please
let me edit again.  I promise, commas will be off-limits from now on!
(g)

Irene
sirenegold@yahoo.com

_________________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 2 Jul 1999 23:23:22 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         "Demona (Angel Of The Night)" <nightangel@HOME.COM>
Subject:      Re: NFanFIC LIST
In-Reply-To:  <3.0.6.32.19990702170554.0080ee50@ldd.net>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

CC Wrote:
>Just a question, I don't want to cause trouble.  But, why is the legal age
>18?  Is this similar to movie ratings?  For I am a 17 year old, and have
>been allowed to go into R rated movies.  Is the fanfic that much above
>NC-17?  I never figured there was much difference between the two, R and
>NC-17.

Well CC, I'll tell you what I told the last 17 year old who wrote to me,
just today in fact.   Since you asked in public, I'll answer here as well.
;)

I've made the list an open one so that people may police themselves.   If
you are a minor, I cannot grant you permission to join the list, however,
neither can will I know that you're a minor, or feel compelled to stop you
>from taking part in such an open list -- so long as you follow the same
rules everyone else does (if you know what I mean;)  The age restriction is
not meant to exclude anyone, rather to encourage reader discression and to
inform any possible subscribers of the content of the list.  In
subscribing, everyone is agreeing that they understand all of that, and
that they take responsibility for their own reading habits.  Beyond that,
it's nearly impossible to police everyone out there, and I wouldn't want
to, even if we could, that would be a full time job.  The list exists based
upon the foundation and integrity of it's subscribers.  If there are
problems created, then the list won't function.  It's pretty simple.  So in
the end, whether anyone joins or not... is truly up to their own
discression, and the discression of whomever is responsible for their
activities online.

Clear as mud? ;)

Best :)
Demi
___________________________________________
Demi aka Demona

nightangel@home.com
http://fantasia.simplenet.com/lcfantasy/
http://www.destinyy.com/boards/

for the lcnfanfic email list, see:
http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/lcnfanfic

"Sometimes I think I understand everything, then I regain consciousness."
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 2 Jul 1999 20:41:20 -0700
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         "Irene D." <sirenegold@YAHOO.COM>
Subject:      nKerths - looking for authors
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii

Dawn and I are looking for valid email addresses for a few authors. I'm
going to list their names and their last known addresses.  If anyone
knows these people, could you please contact them and ask them to send
me an email at sirenegold@yahoo.com.

Trish          lhuctlr@lusta.latrobe.edu.au
Sharon         smckay19@aol.com
Katie          BECKYFOXX@aol.com
Goldwind       Goldwind99@aol.com
Debz           debwrite@sprynet.com

Thanks for your help.

Irene

_________________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Sat, 3 Jul 1999 01:13:25 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         PJ Piasecki <PJPiasecki@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: combo: the 'dark side' & gunshots ;)
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

In a message dated 6/29/99 9:53:08 AM CST, kubitc@KENYON.EDU writes:

<<
 You mean you can tell them apart? <g> Actually, I can tell those two apart,
but
 most of Williams's music, semi-pirated from old-time classical composers,
 sounds the same to me, even with the ear of a (lapsed) violinist...
  >>

Christy, you too?  John Williams drives me crazy!  Ever listen to Strauss'
tone poem "The Hero's Life?" (English title because I can't spell the German
<g>)  So much of the theme from Starwars is lifted directly from it.

Piper
=========================================================================
Date:         Sat, 3 Jul 1999 01:18:54 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         PJ Piasecki <PJPiasecki@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: combo: the 'dark side'
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

In a message dated 6/29/99 2:05:56 PM CST, Zoomway@AOL.COM writes:

<<  I have no idea why since I do enjoy nfic, and
 dragging Sheila back into this, the hottest nfic scene I've ever read was
in
 her nfic version of Mxysplit. I couldn't write that scene in a million
years,
 but I sure enjoyed reading it...repeatedly <g>
  >>

Couldn't agree with you more, Zoom.  I *loved* that scene.  BTW - Lori McE
wrote a story with a similar scene a few years ago.  It, too, was done
beautifully.  I mentioned to her that, now the three of them had gotten all
sweaty she should proceed to write a sequel that put them in the shower! <g>
No joy, though.

...sigh...

Piper
=========================================================================
Date:         Sat, 3 Jul 1999 03:38:55 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Sandy McDermin <smcdermin@EROLS.COM>
Subject:      Re: combo: the 'dark side'
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

PJ Piasecki wrote:
>
> In a message dated 6/29/99 2:05:56 PM CST, Zoomway@AOL.COM writes:
> <<  I have no idea why since I do enjoy nfic, and
>  dragging Sheila back into this, the hottest nfic scene I've ever read was
in
>  her nfic version of Mxysplit. I couldn't write that scene in a million
years,
>  but I sure enjoyed reading it...repeatedly <g>
>   >>
>
> Couldn't agree with you more, Zoom.  I *loved* that scene.  BTW - Lori McE
> wrote a story with a similar scene a few years ago.  It, too, was done
> beautifully.  I mentioned to her that, now the three of them had gotten
all
> sweaty she should proceed to write a sequel that put them in the shower!
<g>
> No joy, though.
>
> ...sigh...
>
> Piper

Although I think Sheila's work is very good -- always have -- and even
recommended someone contact her who had written to me about doing a spec
script <surprise!>, I couldn't get into this scene unless I *didn't*
think about Lois and Clark.  In other words, I liked the writing very
much, but I couldn't see either Lois or Clark feeling "comfortable"
doing what the scene spelled out. But, I guess that's what fantasy's all
about, and, in the end, it's pretty good fantasy.

I'm unfamiliar with the Lori story.  I'll have to trawl through my fic
library.

Sandy
smcdermin@erols.com
*********************************************
Woman: Well what on earth does that mean?

Man: *I* don't know - Mr Wentworth just told me to come in here and say
that there was trouble at the mill, that's all - I didn't expect a kind
of Spanish Inquisition.

(JARRING CHORD - The door flies open and Cardinal Ximinez of Spain
enters, flanked by two junior cardinals. Cardinal Biggles has goggles
pushed over his forehead. Cardinal Fang is just Cardinal Fang.)

Ximinez: NOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition! Our chief weapon is
suprise...surprise and fear...fear and surprise.... Our two weapons are
fear and surprise...and ruthless efficiency.... Our *three* weapons are
fear, surprise, and ruthless efficiency...and an almost fanatical
devotion to the Pope.... Our *four*...no... *Amongst* our weapons....
Amongst our weaponry...are such elements as fear, surprise.... I'll come
in again. (Exit and exeunt)

From:  Monty Python's "The Spanish Inquisition"
***********************************************
=========================================================================
Date:         Sat, 3 Jul 1999 15:26:03 +0200
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         =?iso-8859-1?Q?D=E9bora_BOBO?= <d.bobo@WANADOO.FR>
Subject:      Re: NEW: Au revoir, and not good-bye (1/3) [PG]
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit

I didn't get this fanfic. Where can I find it ?
Is it possible for someone to send it to me ?

Debora
-----Message d'origine-----
De : Irene D. <sirenegold@YAHOO.COM>
À : LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU
<LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Date : samedi 3 juillet 1999 04:56
Objet : Re: NEW: Au revoir, and not good-bye (1/3) [PG]

>--- Chris Carr <c.carr@VIRGIN.NET> wrote:
>
>> Big thanks to Irene who did yet another sterling job
>> of editing for me.  We may not agree on commas, but >I took her
>advice on (nearly) every other count.  If >you enjoy the story, then
>part of the credit goes to >her.
>
>Chris, you are too kind.  I only made a couple of small suggestions.
>You deserve the congratulations for a beautifully written, sensitive
>rendition of difficult emotions.  You have an incredibly delicate touch
>when it comes to portraying emotional feelings in all their subtlety.
>
>Bravo, Chris.  I'm looking forward to your next vignette.  And please
>let me edit again.  I promise, commas will be off-limits from now on!
>(g)
>
>Irene
>sirenegold@yahoo.com
>
>
>_________________________________________________________
>Do You Yahoo!?
>Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com
>
=========================================================================
Date:         Sat, 3 Jul 1999 08:52:24 -0500
Reply-To:     truitt22@flash.net
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         timothy truitt <truitt22@FLASH.NET>
Organization: tnt technical services
Subject:      Re: nKerths - looking for authors
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Irene,  Debz  is   (Debwrite@bellatlantic.net)  Merry truitt22@flash.net

Irene D. wrote:

> Dawn and I are looking for valid email addresses for a few authors. I'm
> going to list their names and their last known addresses.  If anyone
> knows these people, could you please contact them and ask them to send
> me an email at sirenegold@yahoo.com.
>
> Trish          lhuctlr@lusta.latrobe.edu.au
> Sharon         smckay19@aol.com
> Katie          BECKYFOXX@aol.com
> Goldwind       Goldwind99@aol.com
> Debz           debwrite@sprynet.com
>
> Thanks for your help.
>
> Irene
>
> _________________________________________________________
> Do You Yahoo!?
> Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Sat, 3 Jul 1999 14:11:07 +0100
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         LabRat <labrat@UKF.NET>
Subject:      nKerth Awards
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Apologies for posting this on both lists, but I wanted to make sure that I
reach everyone with the info, so that there's no confusion.

Someone asked whether the nKerth info would still be on both lists (This was
on the nfic mailing list).

I don't know what Dawn or Irene plan on this one, but my own view is that I
hope it does go on both lists. Already I've heard from a couple of FoLC
friends who get their list access at work and who don't feel comfortable
subscribing to an nfic list there and who are therefore worried that they'll
miss out on voting info when the time comes. I can, of course, mail them
updates and keep them informed, but I'm sure there are others in the same
situation out there.

Also, small aside. I'm sure that everyone here already knows that I'm not in
any way involved in organising the nKerths - but for some reason I've had
mail this week from a couple of people who seem to think that I am. So, just
in case and to set the record straight - it's Dawn and Irene and the nice
FoLC who's setting up the links website (and who says she'll disembowel me
if I mention her name on the list again. Hey there, P...mmmmpphhh <g>), plus
their merry gang of helpers who are doing all of the hard work on this one.
My only contribution was to pass along some data I had on file. I'd hate to
have people giving me credit for their achievements. I'm sure that I didn't
say anything to give the impression that I was on the committee, but if I
did then it was entirely inadvertant and unintentional.

Happy 4th of July to our American friends when it arrives! (hoping to be too
immersed in writing by then to mail to list. <G>)

LabRat :)
Doc. Klein's LabRat
labrat@ukf.net

"Shut up," he explained.  --- Ring Lardner, The Young Immigrants.

'We can't all be heroes because someone has to sit on the curb and clap as
they go by.' --- Will Rogers.

LabRat :)
Doc. Klein's LabRat
labrat@ukf.net

"Shut up," he explained.  --- Ring Lardner, The Young Immigrants.

'We can't all be heroes because someone has to sit on the curb and clap as
they go by.' --- Will Rogers.
=========================================================================
Date:         Sat, 3 Jul 1999 09:00:30 -0500
Reply-To:     truitt22@flash.net
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         timothy truitt <truitt22@FLASH.NET>
Organization: tnt technical services
Subject:      Re: nKerths - looking for authors
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Irene, You might try these for sharon  (shaz915@aol.com)
(tcrow75704@aol.com) or (Smckay@aol.com)
Also  - Joyce Fitch may know  -  (joyceef@mcs.com)
 Merry    truitt22@flash.net

Irene D. wrote:

> Dawn and I are looking for valid email addresses for a few authors. I'm
> going to list their names and their last known addresses.  If anyone
> knows these people, could you please contact them and ask them to send
> me an email at sirenegold@yahoo.com.
>
> Trish          lhuctlr@lusta.latrobe.edu.au
> Sharon         smckay19@aol.com
> Katie          BECKYFOXX@aol.com
> Goldwind       Goldwind99@aol.com
> Debz           debwrite@sprynet.com
>
> Thanks for your help.
>
> Irene
>
> _________________________________________________________
> Do You Yahoo!?
> Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Sat, 3 Jul 1999 10:24:52 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         "Demona (Angel Of The Night)" <nightangel@HOME.COM>
Subject:      Re: nKerths - looking for authors
In-Reply-To:  <19990703034120.29140.rocketmail@web902.mail.yahoo.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

At 08:41 PM 02/07/99 -0700, you wrote:
>Dawn and I are looking for valid email addresses for a few authors.

It was suggested on the Nfic list that we begin taking some of the posts
concerning the subject (nKerths as well, etc)  which appear on this list and
trying to facilitate a transition between lists for this particular subject.

I'd like to let anyone over here still posting about the topic to know that
this is being done, and that if you hadn't heard already, you're more than
welcome to join the other list additionally to this one, in order to keep
content over here largely PG related.

The subscription address is:
http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/lcnfanfic

Take Care All,
Demi
___________________________________________
Demi aka Demona

nightangel@home.com
http://fantasia.simplenet.com/lcfantasy/
http://www.destinyy.com/boards/

for the lcnfanfic email list, see:
http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/lcnfanfic

"Sometimes I think I understand everything, then I regain consciousness."
=========================================================================
Date:         Sat, 3 Jul 1999 10:31:21 -0700
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         "Irene D." <sirenegold@YAHOO.COM>
Subject:      Re: nKerth Awards
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii

I've already addressed this issue on the new nfic mailing list, but all
nKerth info will be released to both the new list and to this general
fanfic list.  I would like to ask nfic readers to use the nfic list for
discussion of stories when the time comes for us to accept nominations.
It would not be polite to clog the mailboxes of those who are not
interested in these awards.

And Labrat may not be officially part of everything, but she has been a
*huge* help to both Dawn and me. Thanks, Labrat!

Take care,
Irene
sirenegold@yahoo.com
--- LabRat <labrat@UKF.NET> wrote:
> Apologies for posting this on both lists, but I
> wanted to make sure that I
> reach everyone with the info, so that there's no
> confusion.
>
> Someone asked whether the nKerth info would still be
> on both lists (This was
> on the nfic mailing list).
>
> I don't know what Dawn or Irene plan on this one,
> but my own view is that I
> hope it does go on both lists. Already I've heard
> from a couple of FoLC
> friends who get their list access at work and who
> don't feel comfortable
> subscribing to an nfic list there and who are
> therefore worried that they'll
> miss out on voting info when the time comes. I can,
> of course, mail them
> updates and keep them informed, but I'm sure there
> are others in the same
> situation out there.
>
> Also, small aside. I'm sure that everyone here
> already knows that I'm not in
> any way involved in organising the nKerths - but for
> some reason I've had
> mail this week from a couple of people who seem to
> think that I am. So, just
> in case and to set the record straight - it's Dawn
> and Irene and the nice
> FoLC who's setting up the links website (and who
> says she'll disembowel me
> if I mention her name on the list again. Hey there,
> P...mmmmpphhh <g>), plus
> their merry gang of helpers who are doing all of the
> hard work on this one.
> My only contribution was to pass along some data I
> had on file. I'd hate to
> have people giving me credit for their achievements.
> I'm sure that I didn't
> say anything to give the impression that I was on
> the committee, but if I
> did then it was entirely inadvertant and
> unintentional.
>
>
> Happy 4th of July to our American friends when it
> arrives! (hoping to be too
> immersed in writing by then to mail to list. <G>)
>
> LabRat :)
> Doc. Klein's LabRat
> labrat@ukf.net
>
> "Shut up," he explained.  --- Ring Lardner, The
> Young Immigrants.
>
> 'We can't all be heroes because someone has to sit
> on the curb and clap as
> they go by.' --- Will Rogers.
>
>
> LabRat :)
> Doc. Klein's LabRat
> labrat@ukf.net
>
> "Shut up," he explained.  --- Ring Lardner, The
> Young Immigrants.
>
> 'We can't all be heroes because someone has to sit
> on the curb and clap as
> they go by.' --- Will Rogers.
>

_________________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Sat, 3 Jul 1999 21:00:57 +0100
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         LabRat <labrat@UKF.NET>
Subject:      Re: nKerth Awards
MIME-Version: 1.0
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Irene wrote:

>And Labrat may not be officially part of everything, but she has been a
>*huge* help to both Dawn and me. Thanks, Labrat!
>
Yelp. Took me by surprise there, Irene. I don't actually think I've done
anything at all - except listen in awe whenever - gosh, what's her name
again, gone right out of my head (LabRat checks stomach and looks uneasily
around for disembowling shears coming her way) - tells me about her latest
batch of changes to the website. That girl is good. Although anything I can
help with I'll be delighted of course. Thanks for the unexpected praise
though! <blush>

Oh and while I'm here, seems that I inadvertantly confused a couple of
people when I said a few posts back that I was dropping into lurk mode.
Sorry, guys, you don't get rid of me that easy. Lurk to me means no longer
than 24 hours. I'm genetically incapable of keeping my mouth shut any longer
than that. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid.

LabRat :)
Doc. Klein's LabRat
labrat@ukf.net

"Shut up," he explained.  --- Ring Lardner, The Young Immigrants.

'We can't all be heroes because someone has to sit on the curb and clap as
they go by.' --- Will Rogers.
=========================================================================
Date:         Sat, 3 Jul 1999 23:22:41 +0200
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         NKWolke <NKWolke@T-ONLINE.DE>
Subject:      Re: NEW: Au revoir, and not good-bye
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1
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*
*
*
S
P
O
I
L
E
R
*
S
P
A
C
E

Dear Chris,
what a wonderful vignette! I love these "missing scenes" and the question
about
what happened behind the curtain in BGDF always "haunted" me, too.

I especially loved Clark's sentence:

>>> Suddenly serious again, he said intensely, "I don't want to take
memories of the past with me, Lois.  I want the promise of a future.
Our future." <<<

This sounds very much like Clark to me and I think it's a very believable
explanation why 'it' didn't happen that night.

I hope to read more of you soon :-)
take care
Nicole
AKA CKgroupie on IRC
NKWolke@t-online.de
=========================================================================
Date:         Sat, 3 Jul 1999 17:21:01 -0500
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Diyan Smith <zimri@HOTMAIL.COM>
Subject:      Re: nKerth awards
MIME-Version: 1.0
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>from LabRat
>>So, just in case and to set the record straight - it's Dawn and Irene and
the nice FoLC who's setting up the links website (and who says she'll
disembowel me if I mention her name on the list again. Hey there,
P...mmmmpphhh <g>), plus their merry gang of helpers who are doing all of
the hard work on this one.<<

Well, LabRat, if this anonymous FoLC lives in the US and you live in the
UK, she'd have to go to a lot of trouble to disembowel you, even if a rat
would be easier to disembowel than a human would be (I think-?).  ; )

>> Happy 4th of July to our American friends when it arrives!<<
Thanks, LabRat!

-Diyan
zimri@hotmail.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Sun, 4 Jul 1999 00:39:15 +0100
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         LabRat <labrat@UKF.NET>
Subject:      Re: nKerth awards
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Diyan wrote:

>Well, LabRat, if this anonymous FoLC lives in the US and you live in the
>UK, she'd have to go to a lot of trouble to disembowel you, even if a rat
>would be easier to disembowel than a human would be (I think-?).  ; )
>
I wouldn't put anything past this particular FoLC, Diyan - she's pretty
resourceful. And I suspect she knows guys who know guys. Me, I'm sticking
close to Bernie for a time. He's doubled the security around the lab, just
in case and ordered in two new Doberman Pinschers.

LabRat :)
Doc. Klein's LabRat
labrat@ukf.net

'We owe a lot to Thomas Edison - if it weren't for him we'd be watching
television by candlelight.' -- Milton Berle.

"News: anything that makes a woman say, 'For heaven's sake!'" -- Edgar
Watson Howe
=========================================================================
Date:         Sat, 3 Jul 1999 16:44:44 -0700
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         "Irene D." <sirenegold@YAHOO.COM>
Subject:      OT - Vacation
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii

I wouldn't ordinarily announce that I'm going on vacation, but I've
been receiving a lot of mail re the nKerths.  I'll be changing my list
settings to nomail by Sunday night and will be away for about 6 days
(to Ottawa, my nation's capital).

Take care,
Irene
sirenegold@yahoo.com

_________________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Sat, 3 Jul 1999 19:47:20 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         "Ann E. McBride" <Aerm1@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: nKerth awards
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In a message dated 7/3/99 7:41:14 PM Eastern Daylight Time, labrat@UKF.NET
writes:

<< even if a rat
 >would be easier to disembowel than a human would be (I  >>

It does seem like a rat would be really hard to catch, though.  I saw one in
an alley once and it was fast, REAL fast.  Tried to catch a hamster once --
rodents only get caught when they want to, so I think LabRat should relax.
She can get away. <g>

Ann
=========================================================================
Date:         Sat, 3 Jul 1999 17:04:59 -0700
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Cindy <chaste@CYBERHOTLINE.COM>
Subject:      Re: nKerth awards
MIME-Version: 1.0
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"Ann E. McBride" wrote:

> In a message dated 7/3/99 7:41:14 PM Eastern Daylight Time, labrat@UKF.NET
> writes:
>
> << even if a rat
>  >would be easier to disembowel than a human would be (I  >>
>
> It does seem like a rat would be really hard to catch, though.  I saw one
in
> an alley once and it was fast, REAL fast.  Tried to catch a hamster once
--
> rodents only get caught when they want to, so I think LabRat should relax.
> She can get away. <g>
>
> Ann

I don't know about relaxing.  I think I'd be more worried about the two
doberman
Dr. Klein has called in as extra security than the anonymous FoLC kind
enough to
set up a comprehensive nfic site.  In fact I think LabRat should continue to
watch her back until she's released the story she keeps tantalizing us with,
at
which point I'm sure we'll all be quite happy to guard her ourselves so she
can
work on another one.
=========================================================================
Date:         Sun, 4 Jul 1999 01:08:14 +0100
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         LabRat <labrat@UKF.NET>
Subject:      Re: nKerth awards
MIME-Version: 1.0
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Ann wrote:

>It does seem like a rat would be really hard to catch, though.  I saw one
in
>an alley once and it was fast, REAL fast.  Tried to catch a hamster once --
>rodents only get caught when they want to, so I think LabRat should relax.
>She can get away. <g>
>
>
Only if Bernie leaves the cage door unlocked, Ann. ;)

LabRat :)
Doc. Klein's LabRat
labrat@ukf.net

"Shut up," he explained.  --- Ring Lardner, The Young Immigrants.

'We can't all be heroes because someone has to sit on the curb and clap as
they go by.' --- Will Rogers.
=========================================================================
Date:         Sun, 4 Jul 1999 01:31:47 +0100
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         LabRat <labrat@UKF.NET>
Subject:      Re: nKerth awards
MIME-Version: 1.0
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Cindy wrote:

I don't know about relaxing.  I think I'd be more worried about the two
doberman
Dr. Klein has called in as extra security than the anonymous FoLC kind
enough to
set up a comprehensive nfic site.

***No, we're getting on fine. They're mean poker players, but they know all
the words to Yellow Submarine. They don't like the monkeys, but then who
does? Apart from Bernie. ***

In fact I think LabRat should continue to
watch her back until she's released the story she keeps tantalizing us with,
at
which point I'm sure we'll all be quite happy to guard her ourselves so she
can
work on another one.

***Geez, I don't have the cash to buy that amount of security for that
length of time, Cindy! Especially as I still haven't visited any story files
today. Did a lot of interesting things like rearranging all my files and
making up cute video covers for my Buffy tapes....and now its after one
a.m....and I'm chatting on irc...***

LabRat :)
Doc. Klein's LabRat
labrat@ukf.net

"Shut up," he explained.  --- Ring Lardner, The Young Immigrants.

'We can't all be heroes because someone has to sit on the curb and clap as
they go by.' --- Will Rogers.
=========================================================================
Date:         Sat, 3 Jul 1999 21:30:28 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         No Name Available <MsLoisette@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: nKerth awards
MIME-Version: 1.0
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In a message dated 99-07-03 20:34:27 EDT, you write:

<< Yellow Submarine >>

LOL! I LOVE the Beatles and that song too! <G>

Alexis ;-.)
=========================================================================
Date:         Sun, 4 Jul 1999 07:05:33 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
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              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      NEW:  My Journal, Day 8, Intro, Part 0 of
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

TITLE: My Journal
         Day 8, Tuesday, May 10, PART (0/)
         AUTHOR Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com
         RATING PG-13 (for one common swear word)
         FEEDBACK Comments welcome in all forums
         No Editing please (though you can fix typos)
         SUMMARY  Read Days 1, 2, 3, 3A, 4, 4A, 5, 5A, 6 and 7 before you
read
Day 8. All previous parts and noted "attachments" are available at
ftp://ftp.swcp.com/pub/users/dstark MyJournal  in Word97 doc or rtf form;
with
one exception, all pictures are jpgs.
         Clark Kent's adventures in Metropolis continue.

There are no attachments with this episode, though if you pick up the .doc
or
.rtf versions, you may want to wait a bit because I'm bound to post a more
typo-free version to my site in a day or two :) My proofers are
terrific--but
*I* add more typos after they see my "finals" :)

Debby
Debby@swcp.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Sun, 4 Jul 1999 07:15:21 -0600
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From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      NEW:  My Journal, Day 8, Part 01 of 09
Mime-Version: 1.0
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TITLE: My Journal
         Day 8, Tuesday, May 10, PART 01 of 09
         AUTHOR Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com
         RATING PG-13 (for one common swear word)

All characters below belong to DC Comics and Warner Brothers unless they
are my
own creations. Story by Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com. Submitted on July 4,
1999

                                   My Journal

May 10, Tuesday

         I should wish for a day full of terror and confusion in which my
life
changes irrevocably with each step I take... then maybe I'd get the opposite
and time to savor my job and my new life in Metropolis.
         But that makes it sound like today was horror filled and beyond my
control. Actually, it was an interesting, even enlightening day, a turning
point of a day - in retrospect, a *good* day.
         It started out calmly with no trace of green-glowing bugs, nasty
conspiracies or crazy people.
         Then I got out of bed, and....
         Nothing happened.
         Little joke, sorry. I was a happy camper. Freedom at last!
         This doesn't count Lex Luthor's plot hanging over my head, but I
figured I had time to figure that out. I still think that.
         I also felt better about my chances with Mr. White. Something told
me
that Lois Lane wouldn't speak poorly of me if she said anything about me at
all.
         I showered and dressed. I had a normal breakfast of cereal and
orange
juice, food I bought myself. The provisions forced on me by the Lois Lane
Gang
tempted me, but I was strong. I'll need two boxes to pack them all away.
         The walk to work was pleasant. It was cloudy but I didn't feel any
rain in the air. However, I'm obviously not good at gauging local weather
yet,
because it started to sprinkle and I had to run the last block to the Daily
Planet building.
         The lobby was full of damp people complaining that it would be hot
and
humid later in the day. I guess they've never been in Costa Rica or even
Houston.
         Since I was a little early, I stopped at the little newsstand and
found that they carry not only regular magazines one might find anywhere
(i.e.,
Smallville Discount Pharmacy), but a nice little selection of foreign
magazines. This reminded me that I'll have to hunt down some real
bookstores.
Metropolis must be packed with them - little shops, big chain stores, used
book
stores, specialty book stores (religious, new age, foreign language), and
who
knows what else? I bet there are even book discussion groups I can
investigate.
         This is more reason for me to get a bookcase or three and an
apartment
to put them in. As you can imagine, talking to Mr. White was on the top of
my
list of things to do today.
         From the elevator I went right to my desk. I hoped to find news
about
Dr. Platt's fate and hoped it would be good (say, a note stating "he's
visiting
his sister in Bartlesville"), but there was nothing.. I got my coffee cup,
eased my way though the crowds into the kitchen, rinsed out my cup, and
filled
it with fresh coffee. While in the little room, I heard the strong, black
liquid called "Mad Dog Memorial Coffee" again and now I think I know who
"Mad
Dog" is. It's an appropriate memorial. I wonder if she knows about it.
         On my way back to my desk I almost ran into Cat. I stepped out of
her
way into the Infocenter. This is two vaguely C-shaped file areas that face
each
other like a broken "O". The area contains among other things both the Pit's
main computer (the computer room is on the second floor) and, strangely, an
old-fashioned file card system for information too old to be on the computer
yet. (See the map I made, dpmap.jpg)
         I said, "Morning, Cat."
         "Morning, Clark. Oh." She paused and held up a finger. "Just a
minute...."
         She glanced around, checking, so I did, too. Everyone was busy
getting
ready for the budget meeting and not paying any attention to us. She stepped
into the Infocenter with me. There is some small sense of privacy there
because
the two walls of Infocenter are about six feet high. I'm not surprised she
felt
she could not be easily seen and that if she spoke quietly, the normal
noise of
the newsroom would thwart eavesdroppers. Perhaps this included even
electronic
eavesdroppers, if the Infocenter is bugged.
         She was wearing a pleasant, light perfume and was dressed in a
fashionable pantsuit that looked like it would carry her through the warm,
humid day we did eventually have. She's almost as tall as I am so when she
faced me we were almost eye (my glasses) to eye (her dazzling blues).
         Her eyes were also serious. "I understand what you did," she told
me
quietly. "I can read between the lines." She was holding her hands loosely
before herself and she moved her right in a gesture illustrating the
leverage
she'd used to pry the information from between those lines. "And I think you
were right."
         Ah.... "Thanks. I do, too."
         "Stick to your guns. Believe me, she needs someone who will stand
up
to her."
         I wanted to say that she doesn't need me, but I guess I had this
little hope that she still did, that she'd realize it, and I'd hear from
Lois
Lane again - a nicer version of her. That's the only version I want to deal
with.
         I did say, "I don't actually plan to see her again..." which was
true;
she'd have to come to me first.
         Cat considered this, her mouth opening for a moment before she said
politely, "...uh-huh. Well, don't be surprised...."
         I nodded. This was familiar territory. "I'm constantly surprised."
I
sipped my coffee and over the brim noticed someone I didn't recognize
(another
not-surprising thing) coming onto the landing from the elevators. He was
(and
is still) tall, slender, and perhaps in his 40s. His hair is loosely-cut and
wavy brown, and his beard neatly trimmed, with traces of distinguished gray.
His designer suit and highly polished shoes seemed out of place in a sea of
off-the-rack jackets, dresses, scuffed loafers and comfortable running
shoes.
Others of my colleagues noticed him, too... then tried not to notice him.
         "Who's that?" I whispered to Cat. I think she must know everyone.
         Her expression neutral, she turned, laughed at someone passing and,
I'm sure, glanced in the man's direction. When she turned back, she dropped
her
smile and licked her lips carefully. "One of the stockholders. Chronus
Interregnum. He's... a strange man."
         "His name certainly is a mouthful."
         My peripheral vision is quite good when the rims of my glasses
don't
get in the way. Without looking directly at him, I saw him approach the
railing
and lean against it, relaxing. He gazed out over the newsroom and I recall
that
he had a look of pleased interest on his face. I suppose that being in the
possession of so much Daily Planet Corporation stock as he is, he feels a
certain sense of pride of ownership over all that he surveys. There's
nothing
wrong with that.
         "I think it's Italian, though he doesn't look Italian to me. They
say
his nickname is 'Pooky'."
         I looked at her. "They do? 'They' who?"
         "'They'...." She looked apologetic. "Friends who like to tease me.
I
don't think anyone knows him well enough to have nicknamed him. I don't
think
anyone *dares* to nickname him. I've also heard his real nickname is 'Tim.'"
         "That's better."
         "Much, if it's true. Rumors say his father and grandfather were in
the
Mafia. They were 'rubbed out' by... 'someone,'" she paused and let me fill
in
that blank. He had killed his own parents? That was some rumor. "They left
him
fabulously wealthy. All we know for sure, though is that he's fabulously
wealthy and he's bought himself into several big corporations, including
ours.
He practically owns us."
         For some reason, maybe the touch of fear or the hesitation in her
voice, I said, "So how does an impetuous new reporter find out more about
him?"
Maybe I wanted to impress her: I wasn't afraid of him.
         "He doesn't. We've tried. Last winter, after Christmas when it was
slow, we decided to run a series called 'Who Owns The Planet?' 'The Planet'
being us. Believe me, it was one of the most boring things I've ever helped
write. I almost begged to be assigned to talk to their stuffy wives instead
-
most of the board is male, a last bastion..."
         I nodded, I understood.
         "...just to get some dirt, even though of course we'd never
publish it
after..." the Lois Lane fiasco. "But we didn't go there. The only
interesting
thing was that he..." she tilted her head slightly to indicate Mr.
Interregnum,
"...was out of town and couldn't be reached, not even for emergencies. His
secretary wouldn't talk about him, and we found no relatives - no wife, no
kids, no brothers or sisters - no one but his lawyer to sing his praises in
a
carefully worded statement. He returned to town from who knows where too
late.
We tried to get him then, for a follow-up, but no luck. He seems to pop into
his office long enough to... I don't know, make more money, I guess, then he
pops out again."
         She tried to resume her previous casual self control but it didn't
quite take. "I don't like the way he looks at people. It's like a cross
between
a snake and a senator."
         I smiled. "I've never met any senators, but snakes are only low
because they don't have feet."
         She smiled a little, too, and said lightly, "Then I humbly
apologize
to all snakes. Interregnum just...." She sighed and frowned, "He just gives
me
the creeps. I don't know why, and I don't like that. It's unprofessional. I
don't like mystery men, especially mystery men who I'm sure are doing
something
wrong. But I haven't been able to get a crack at him so I can drag him out
into
the light of day...."
         If he makes Lex Luthor uncomfortable, it isn't surprising that he
makes Cat feel creepy, too.
         In case you haven't guessed yet, dear great-grandchildren, Mr.
Interregnum is the man about whom I'm supposed to gather information to pass
along to Lex Luthor. I began to wonder if I should tell him about Mr.
Interregnum's appearance in the Pit, if that's the kind of thing Luthor
wants
to know. What if all Luthor wants to know is that Interregnum's in town - so
that he can attack? Should I do anything that might put Interregnum into
danger?
         Fortunately, I had time to think about it. Mr. Interregnum didn't
look
like an ogre. There was the good chance that Luthor was wrong about him.
         I told myself that until I could talk to the man himself, I should
try
not to form any opinions based on secondhand information.
         I asked Cat, "Why do you think he's here?"
         "I don't know. For the last month or so he's shown up every Tuesday
morning like clockwork. He calls them visits, to..." her voice deepened
slightly and became more jovial, "'see how our one big happy family is
doing.'"
         That sounded false in more ways than one - which I wasn't supposed
to
be thinking. I tried a neutral, "Oh, my..."
         "That's putting it lightly."
         "Well.... It's nice that he's interested."
         She gave me a mildly frustrated "you're *so* innocent!" look. "No,
no,
it's not...." Then she touched me gently, perhaps apologetically, and tried
to
smile again. "Sorry to sound so.... Maybe he won't stay. He never does. He
always seems to get tired of standing up there or he gets a call, and then
he
leaves and everybody's happy," she brightened, "especially the Chief." Her
voice grew a little louder, more normal. "Ready for the budget meeting?"
         We chatted about this for a moment. She has her White Orchid Ball
follow-up stories. She's keeping track of all the charities that are
supposed
to be on the receiving end of the money raised at the Ball. I was sure I'd
still be on the Space Station Prometheus story. I said I wanted permission
to
get out and track down Dr. Platt, and she said with complete sincerity that
if
anyone could find him, I probably could.
         That pronouncement made me feel good as we joined our colleagues
entering the conference room. Interestingly, as we entered, quite a few
staffers either gave me thumbs up, patted me on the back, nodded, or smiled
and
winked at me. I have a lot of people on my side on this Lois Lane thing. I
can
only speculate, but I think that while nearly everyone supports her cause
(for
who doesn't support truth and justice?), they don't like how she treated me.

(continued)
=========================================================================
Date:         Sun, 4 Jul 1999 07:15:26 -0600
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Subject:      NEW:  My Journal, Day 8, Part 02 of 09
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TITLE: My Journal
         Day 8, Tuesday, May 10, PART 02 of 09
         AUTHOR Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com
         RATING PG-13 (for one common swear word)

         But because I could be wrong; they could be teasing me, The Once
But
Not Future Silver Knight. So I couldn't let it go to my head. If this hadn't
been Jimmy's day off, I'm sure he would have had a different reaction
altogether. Like Cat said, I'll stick to my guns, even if I don't quite like
that metaphor and I've never owned a gun.
         Remember, Mom, how you put your foot down and wouldn't let Dad get
me
a BB gun? Remember how disappointed I was (not duck disappointed, more like
"all the other kids have one!" disappointed), and how I had to use his rifle
that one time we went deer hunting? Not that I had expected to kill a deer
with
a BB gun, I just wanted to be like Dad and have my own gun to carry along. I
was sure Dad would, unbeknownst to you, let me shoot his real gun. However,
just as you no doubt predicted, hunting was not the hobby for me. "That's
not
Bambi, son," Dad said when I simply couldn't pull the trigger the first time
I
had a deer in my sights. "We're hunting *dinner*." We succeeded, with Dad
doing
the bloody work, but, Mom, you wouldn't touch the body and neither would I.
Dad
got it butchered and dressed in town by an expert. Every part of that animal
was used in one way or another. I did eat a little of it later on that
winter
(Dad cooked it), before I remembered how we had gotten it.
         I wonder sometimes why I'm not a vegetarian.
         Okay, back to what happened this morning.
         I noted that Mr. White was apparently planning to file in early,
with
us stragglers. Perhaps he thought to hide among us, but he's tall and he was
caught.
         In a merry, at once deepish and yet rather nasal voice, with an
almost
British accent (but not quite; I haven't heard that accent in any region of
the
UK, Canada, Australia or New Zealand), Mr. Interregnum called out, "Oh,
Perry!
A word, please?"
         Mr. White waited for everyone to move past him (we moved quickly),
and
then he turned, but he did not approach Mr. Interregnum. His body language
told
me that he was not moving his mountain for anyone, even if Mr. Interregnum
were
Moses. So, like a mountain, he stood silent, waiting.
         Mr. Interregnum's body language said he was a man of infinite
flexibility, he didn't mind doing all the approaching. He said, "I'd like to
join you, if that's all right. You know how I hate to interfere in any way
in
the editorial policy of this newspaper," (someone in the conference room
snorted, but I don't know if Mr. Interregnum's statement and the snort are
connected), "but I'd *love* to see how you do it!"
         Mr. White frowned. "'Do it'?"
         I'd been on the job not quite a week at that point (a whole week by
now, as I write this), but I could already hear that Mr. White was not a
happy
man. Those two words conveyed irritation and disbelief... covered by a
veneer
of civilized curiosity, which is all I hoped Mr. Interregnum heard. I don't
know what Mr. White hoped.
         I wondered if he suspected what Lex Luthor claims is true about Mr.
Interregnum. It didn't seem likely, though, mainly because if he did
suspect,
Lois Lane would not be targeting Luthor but Interregnum. So Mr. White most
likely has other reasons to dislike the major stockholder.
         Trying to keep my objectivity, I told myself that Mr. Interregnum's
facial expression conveyed a certain honesty; his interest did seem genuine.
         "It! Yes, man! How you inspire the troops!" At this point Mr.
Interregnum's hands popped out of his pockets to help him express himself
with
grand gestures. "How you encourage them to get out there in one of the most
dangerous cities in the world, their pens their only weapons, to get the
story!
How you create a great newspaper out of mere scraps of information that no
one
but *you*," was he about to embrace Mr. White? "in your sly, crafty
manner--"
         Bluntly: "All right. Come on in."
         "Thank you!"
         Mr. White entered first but Mr. Interregnum eased past him to sit
in
that empty chair which is always at Mr. White's right.
         Here's a thought: was that chair at one time Lois Lane's chair? Was
she so good a reporter that she had earned the prized position, one from
which
she could intercept the best assignments? Is that why her work on her
(career-smashing) series was not questioned as it should have been, because
she
had a good reputation?
         What a complex situation that poor woman got caught in.
         How ironic that the man who, if Luthor is right, ruined Lois Lane
now
sat in her chair.
         Mr. Interregnum looked comfortable, but I know I'm not the only one
who thought it wasn't quite right for him to be sitting there. His presence
clearly affected everyone in the room. The normal chatter died to nothing as
soon as he entered, and when he sat down and looked around, a cheerful
(somewhat superior) smile on his handsome face, everyone struggled to return
the expression.
         Mr. White got down to business right away. He reviewed last night's
edition quickly and when no one on staff had any comments (Mr. Interregnum
said, "I enjoyed several stories and the photos were excellent, too!"), we
moved on to today's agenda.
         "Oh, let me guess!" Mr. Interregnum interrupted. "It's *got* to be
the
launch of the passenger carrier - the New Hope! - What a wonderful name for
the
ship taking all those brave pioneers up to the Prometheus!"
         "That's right, sir."
         "Why, with all the suspense and mystery after the explosion, EPRAD
couldn't *buy* that kind of publicity, could they?"
         At this point, Cat caught my eye and widened hers slightly,
silently
saying, "See? What *is* it with him?"
         It was certainly an unusual thing to say. He seemed to be implying
that EPRAD's work was sabotaged and that maybe someone inside EPRAD had done
it. He sounded like Dr. Platt.
         And there I sat, knowing a little something about the possibility
of
sabotage that I couldn't divulge.
         Mr. Interregnum continued, "And I bet you've put..." he looked
around
the room and caught sight of "Mr. Friez on it, haven't you?"
         Eduardo nodded and smiled a little.
         "He's been on it since the program began," Mr. White said.
         "That explains how good the coverage is!" Mr. Interregnum leaned
forward and asked Eduardo, "What are your plans for today?"
         Eduardo played with his pen. "Well...."
         "Oh, come on, man, you can tell *me*...."
         Eduardo was already leaning forward, his forearms on the table.
This
is why I could see him from my usual position in the back of the room. I
detected in his body language the faint beginnings of a retreat, but he is a
brave man and must have realized what his body wanted to do. He reversed the
move, put down his pen, and brought his hands together as though he held the
whole story and did indeed have plans. He looked right at Mr. Interregnum.
         "Early this morning, under cover of darkness, EPRAD started moving
pieces of the Messenger to its research facilities south of town. On Friday,
Jimmy got pictures of the hangar they'll be using. I'm going to send Clark
and
Jeanne back out there to see if Dr. Antoinette Baines remembers them. She's
the
project director. No press is allowed, they've made that clear--"
         "To cover their embarrassment!"
         Eduardo may have agreed, but he said carefully, "Well, whatever
their
reasons, the explosion was a disaster, and they want to dissect the remains
before they talk about it. It's our job to get all the information we can as
fast as we can. On Friday, Clark" - note here that when he motioned at me,
several people looked my way and I straightened up in response, so I think
that's how Mr. Interregnum learned what I look like - "struck up a tentative
friendship with Dr. Baines, and I'm hoping we can use it to get a better
story
and more pictures than anyone else."
         "Oh, how exciting!" Mr. Interregnum sat back now, looking satisfied
that he had been given the latest news, news that the public didn't have
yet.
"I wish *I* could go! But I'm so busy...."
         Mr. White approved Eduardo's plan and moved on to the next
department
head for her report.
         As the afternoon edition of the paper was roughed out, Mr.
Interregnum
proceeded to wish he could help everyone on every assignment, even the most
boring ones. Finally, it seemed he could contain himself no longer. "You
know
what, Perry?"
         Mr. White just looked at the man and, I think, tried valiantly not
to
appear apprehensive.
         Mr. Interregnum said, "I can't participate, I know. I'd just be in
the
way at police headquarters among all those criminals, or in the mayor's
office
and the criminals there. And, Ms. Grant, I just don't have time to cuddle
any
of those dear, lovable orphans who are getting all that money from the
charity
ball, but what I *can* do is..."
         He had everyone's attention as he drew this out.
         "...invite each and every one of you into *my* world for a short
time.
We'll all have lunch!"
         There was a collective blink around the table. This was an
incredible
announcement.
         "Of course, you can't come all at once," he chuckled, "my chef is
very
temperamental and he'd have a stroke!"
         I saw Cat raise an eyebrow; is the chef someone she may try to talk
to? I would, were I an impetuous new reporter, one who had time and a good
reason to interview a chef.
         "But I can invite a few of you at a time over the next several
weeks.
Perry, I'll need a list of all your employees, and I'll have to check my
calendar. I'll *make* time to see all of you!" His hands jumped in to help
him
emphasize his determination. "If this works, I'll institute it as a policy!
I'll be able to meet with each of you time and again throughout the year,
and
you can keep me posted about what you're doing and how you're doing it! It's
just so fascinating!"
         I think almost everyone tentatively approved of this surprise plan.
We're all proud of our work and want management to know about it. Even Mr.
White granted the idea a small, considered smile. "Well, sir," he said,
"that's
quite an interesting idea--"
         "And it was right off the top of my head!" Mr. Interregnum beamed.
He
has an almost childlike smile. "Amazing, isn't it?"
         "Truly amazing. But a lot of these people work through lunch
getting
stories ready for the evening edition, so...."
         Some of my colleagues (those who lean toward investigative
reporting
and not schmoozing) relaxed, as though having been given a reprieve. I guess
they didn't like the atmosphere that "lunch" implied; they might feel
awkward
asking the man important questions. Others (some of the Arts and Sports
people,
for example, who get a lot of information from schmoozing) looked
disappointed.
         Mr. Interregnum sat back again, frowning, troubled. He put his
hand to
his mouth and played with his moustache and petted his beard briefly.
Everyone
waited. At last he said, "I hadn't thought of that...." He looked out at us.
Those who were sitting waited on the edges of their seats, I'm sure. "And
many
of you want to go home to your families for dinner...."
         Many nodded, admitting as much.
         "That leaves... what? Brunch? No, the same restrictions apply, I'm
sure.... Tea time? Two o'clock? Three?"
         Three seemed right to quite a few people.
         He sat up again. "Then three o'clock it is, and not for a long
time,
Perry. Fifteen minutes, thirty tops. Just enough for us to have a nice chat
so
we can begin to get to know each other. I've been a mystery to all of you
for
far too long, and now that I foresee the chance to slow down a little and
stay
in town, I'm going to take it!"

(continued)
=========================================================================
Date:         Sun, 4 Jul 1999 07:15:38 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      NEW:  My Journal, Day 8, Part 03 of 09
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TITLE: My Journal
         Day 8, Tuesday, May 10, PART 03 of 09
         AUTHOR Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com
         RATING PG-13 (for one common swear word)

         I think this friendly, open approach began to win over some of my
more
reticent colleagues. Even Cat smiled... but I doubt she believed that he was
sincere. If she's right, what could he be covering up? I suspected then
that he
probably dislikes Lex Luthor as much as Luthor dislikes him, and now I think
that that animosity may be common knowledge. Also, unfortunately, few
multimillionaires get where they are by being scrupulously honest. I'm not
saying that he and Luthor both shouldn't be thoroughly investigated in an
ongoing manner, but I wonder why Mr. Interregnum engenders such wariness in
some of my colleagues when the same people are in awe of Lex Luthor. It
must be
something more than the fact that Mr. Interregnum, in combination with other
shareholders, holds our careers in his hands.
         Mr. Interregnum stood up. "I know you're all eager to get to work,
but
let me just get started on my project by inviting a few of you up to the
penthouse this afternoon.... You, Mrs. Fisler. I'd love to chat with you
about
how schools can be improved."
         Mrs. Fisler is a small black woman who has been covering the
Metropolis education system for years. She doesn't look formidable, but it's
said that those who think she's a pussy cat soon discover she has the
tenacity
of a tiger. She nodded and smiled. Maybe Mr. Interregnum is interested in
the
schools; he's in a good position to promote positive changes. Who better to
talk to than someone who has been observing the school system for so long?
         "And someone younger, maybe a new employee...." He looked over the
conference room and his eyes came to rest on me. "Mr. Kent? If you get back
>from your foray into the wilds of EPRAD before three, I'd like to hear
about
what they're hiding, hmm?" He wiggled his eyebrows, a would-be conspirator
seeking out the information we all want. "If we have time, you can also
tell me
what a representative of the younger generation thinks about working at The
Daily Planet."
         I admit here and now that as soon as he said "a new employee," I
thought "Me! Me!" and that I did feel flattered when I was chosen. Hey, I'm
human. Well, not really, but you know what I mean; I like to be patted on
the
head as much as the next person, who *is* human. "I'd be pleased to, sir."
         He smiled charmingly.
         Gosh, he certainly *seemed* nice enough... I hoped Cat was wrong,
though I noticed even then that I was giving the man *a lot* of slack. Maybe
I've just met too many people with too many agendas in the last week, and I
was
hoping Mr. Interregnum was the nice fellow he was trying to come off as.
         For a third guest he chose Sam the Sports Guy, who is an assistant
sports editor. Sam beamed with pride. Even a billionaire can be interested
in
sports.
         Then Mr. Interregnum looked at Perry. "I hope you can spare these
three at three."
         Mr. White looked much more relaxed now. He shook his head. "No
problem."
         "Oh, good! Well, I'll be off now." He eased around Mr. White and
began
to move toward the door. "I must warn my chef."
         The room was quiet for about thirty seconds. During this time we
observed him through the conference room's windows. They provide an
excellent
view of the elevators. He entered one. Pat, the office manager, standing in
the
conference room, gave us thumbs up when that elevator's doors closed, and
everyone burst with something to say, so much and so loud that I suspect any
bugs in the room were overwhelmed.
         We three chosen people were surrounded by an instant horde of
groupies
who gave us all kinds of advice. The most helpful I think was Cat's: "Keep
your
eyes open and your mouth shut."
         Steve advised, "Measure every word you say."
         Pat said: "Smile, but not too much. You have a terrific smile, but
I
think only women really appreciate it."
         I said, "Heh..." because that's twice in three days it's been
pointed
out to me. What *can* one say to that observation?
         She nodded. "Yeah, that's what I mean. Use that one but toned
down."
         My expression became a silent "Huh?"
         "Like that," Jeanne advised, but I saw the twinkle in her eye.
         Now I'm *sure* they were teasing me, and I didn't mind at all.
         Eduardo eased in and informed me that his assignment for Jeanne
and me
was official. We were to get out to EPRAD's science complex as soon as
possible. As we would be both reporters and photographers, Jeanne should
show
me where spare cameras and film are kept. She said she would, and I thanked
her
and said I'd be along in a moment.
         Mr. White hadn't tried to continue the meeting. The staff was too
animated to be rounded back up for that, and we all knew our assignments
anyway. He was still sitting in his chair at the head of the conference room
table, looking over some paperwork. I eased up to him. past the clot of
people
advising Mrs. Fisler, and leaned over to catch his attention. "Sir?"
         He looked up. "Kent? I thought you'd be heading south already."
         "I'm just on my way out, but I need to ask you a question first."
This
was to be the question about whether or not I should start looking for an
apartment. It may not have been the best time or place, but I really wanted
an
answer. Having one would settle a lot of things in my mind - that is, if the
answer was positive.
         "I see, and I want to talk to you, too. Let's have a little
chat..."
He thought a moment. "...this afternoon, around five. Maybe we can go out
for a
drink, hmm?"
         I thought, ah, wow... but I straightened up and said. "Yes, sir."
Some
less socially inept part of my subconscious asked, Is that all? I added, "I
look forward to that."
         "Good." He nodded and, as though he knew every detail of what I
wanted
to ask, he gave me a little smile that seemed to say I was doing a good job
and
had nothing to fear. He then looked back down at his paperwork, in effect
dismissing me.
         Now that I've had some time to think about his expression, he may
have
been trying to tell me that he, too, thought I was handling the Lois Lane
matter correctly. That turned out to be a major topic of our talk later on.
         But that's all I'll tell you about it right here.
         Jeanne showed me where the darkroom storage closet is and how to
check
things out through Pat, the office manager. I chose a simple Canon SLR and
some
fast black-and-white film; she chose a similar camera and color film. We
then
grabbed our notebooks and hurried away, using her car and chatting about
what
we hoped to find.
         Our dreams did not come true. The only thing we did "right" was
arrive
before the first of the slow-moving trucks ferrying the larger pieces of
wreckage from the launch site to the research site. The main entrance was
heavily cordoned off by an efficient, even mean-looking security force. We
got
plenty of pictures of the trucks as they moved along on the public road and
entered the site.
         We weren't the only reporters on the scene but two of at least two
dozen already there and more to come. Dr. Baines did not put in an
appearance.
Jeanne and I stayed almost until noon, waiting for her and for our chance to
exploit my "boyish charm" (her tease).
         Eventually the last of the trucks arrived, entered, and disappeared
into the complex, and all we had to show for it were the pictures (several
rolls) and a two-page, double-spaced, ten-pitch news-free handout provided
by
an EPRAD PR person at the gate.
         I wonder what I would have done had I come on my own. I would have
been tempted to jump the fence on the south side of the complex, where the
hangars are. I know I could have sneaked passed the guards and gotten
plenty of
pictures... of the trucks entering the hangar Dr. Baines had shown us. Not
exciting, which would've serve me right for breaking into the place. I might
have tried to get into the hangar, a risky move in daylight, but I think
it's
possible. Then what? What do I know about shuttle craft pieces? What caused
the
explosion might be right out in the open and I'd never recognize it. That
would
serve me right, too.
         Besides, it's easier to be sneaky at night.
         While we were standing around coming up with and rejecting new
angles
on the story, the same as all the other reporters were doing, I tried
calling
Dr. Platt's home again. No luck.
         On the way back we picked up some lunch at one of the hundreds  of
fast-food places we passed. It seemed like that many, anyhow. We ate at
Jeanne's desk and then met with the other team members in Eduardo's office.
There we prepared our part of the story, mapping out a strategy to cover the
launch on Friday. After this, we returned to our desks to work on research.
         At almost two, Mr. Mounts in the lobby called up to the newsroom to
report that a traffic accident had just occurred down the block. It sounded
strange and we might want to cover it. Pat actually got the call. She found
Mr.
White, who was touring the Pit and only a few yards from my desk. She
relayed
the information to him and I happened to hear the conversation. Mr. White
nodded, looked around for a volunteer, saw me, saw that I was watching him
(and
I assume he through I had overheard the story), and he pointed at me. "Go
check
that out."
         I said, "Yes, sir." I didn't argue because I figured the accident
would be quick to cover and, being in the middle of downtown, nothing at all
like the one last Thursday morning. I still had the camera I used earlier,
so I
took it and an extra roll of film along with me. Rather than wait for an
elevator, I took the stairs. People don't seem to take them very often
(except
around lunch and break times, when people use them for exercise or to take a
smoke though the building is supposed to be a smoke-free zone), so I could
zip
down them. In the lobby, I asked Mr. Mounts about his report and he pointed
east.
         I stepped out onto the sidewalk and noticed that east-bound traffic
was stopped, cars had been abandoned, and people were rushing west. I headed
east, crossed north-south street, and jogged half a block along one side of
a
popular department store. I saw fewer people but more police officers
getting
pedestrians out of the area. I had to flash my press card several times and
each time was warned to take cover. I asked each officer why and finally one
told me that witnesses said that a large car (it was a station wagon) had
nearly hit a pedestrian. I said, "And everyone's running away?"
         The officer just shook his head and warned, "Stay back."
         Of course I didn't, and he didn't stop me from easing forward,
keeping
close to the building.
         In a few moments I saw two people I figured were the pedestrian who
had been nearly hit and the driver of the car that nearly hit her.  The
pedestrian was quite pregnant. I don't know how to estimate months when it
comes to that. She was standing in the middle of the crosswalk screaming
about
the injustices suffered by people who don't have cars and how callous
drivers
not only hog the road but want the sidewalk, too! I bet almost everyone
ignored
her until she pulled out the handgun she was now waving around.
         However, the driver of the vehicle that apparently hit her (some
witnesses told me later that the station wagon did indeed brush her and spin
her about) was not without his own defense. Witnesses say that he stopped
upon
striking her (there was too much traffic for him to flee), and that he
tried to
reason with the woman. This reportedly included calling her a "crazy bitch
who
shouldn't be allowed outside." She informed him and the world that she had
"had
it up to *here* with intolerant people today!" and it was going to stop -
now!
That was when she pulled out her gun. Well, he had one, too, and he pulled
it
out and thus the confrontation became potentially deadly. A squad car full
of
four police officers arrived on the scene at that point. Three of the
officers
began ordering onlookers out of the area, while the fourth used a bullhorn
to
talk to the combatants, who weren't listening.
         This was what the standoff looked like when I arrived. I found a
good
position about twenty yards from the trouble and took several pictures in
rapid
succession. No one noticed the noise my camera's shutter made; no one
seemed to
notice me at all.
         After taking the pictures, I paused to wonder how I could help
solve
the problem. Several things came to mind, but I had to reject them. For one
thing, on the other side of the street opposite me, a camera crew from
WLEX-TV
was setting up their equipment on the roof of their van. Their cameras could
catch me in action if I darted out to disarm either of the crazed citizens,
even if I went very fast. Worse, the crew didn't seem to care that they
were in
the open. If bullets flew, they could be in danger.
         I did consider using laser vision to blow out a tire on the
driver's
car. The resulting bang could distract both combatants and allow the police
to
rush in. On the other hand, considering how nervous everyone was, the bang
might be misinterpreted and provoke gunfire on both sides.
         The avenue itself provided me with what I needed. I was the only
one
taking shelter in one of the recessed picture window areas of the department
store. Looking around myself and finally up, I saw that all along the wall
between the second and third stories is a parapet with flagpoles that hold a
series of large, colorful flags replete with the store's corporate logo.
         Taking into consideration the breeze (no doubt a variation of the
"microburst created by wind tunneled through the skyscrapers downtown") and
trying to calculate how that wind affected each flag individually and under
a
certain set of circumstances.... I discovered there were way too many
factors
to take into account and that I couldn't think fast enough. I gave up on
that
and just picked the largest flag, a blue one (I like blue) on the largest
pole.
It was over the store entrance on the corner. I lasered the rings holding
the
flag to the pole, hitting both rings as equally as I could, just to the
breaking point... and then I helped the breeze along with a little puff of
my
own.

(continued)
=========================================================================
Date:         Sun, 4 Jul 1999 07:15:43 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      NEW:  My Journal, Day 8, Part 04 of 09
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TITLE: My Journal
         Day 8, Tuesday, May 10, PART 04 of 09
         AUTHOR Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com
         RATING PG-13 (for one common swear word)

         The flag broke free and fell in a surprisingly silent fashion
toward
the combatants. I just wanted it to distract them so that maybe I could
heat up
one of the guns and force the holder to drop it, but miracle of miracles,
the
flag actually fell over and covered the driver, who was a middle-aged,
overweight fellow and the less belligerent of the two. He dropped his gun
and
began struggling to get the flag off.
         I got pictures of it all. The pregnant woman began cheering: Mother
Nature was clearly on her side. She put her gun down on the hood of the car
and
began swaggering about, doing a little dance, whooping with joy - justice
had
been done! The police rushed up and grabbed the driver, arresting him.
         No doubt due to her obviously delicate condition (both physically
and,
perhaps, mentally) they took more care with the woman. However, she seemed
quite happy to cooperate. She shouted joyfully, "I made my point!" The
remaining crowd of pedestrians cheered. She smiled as she presented her
wrists
for handcuffs that they did not have ready. They did relieve her of her
purse
though.
         All of this could only have been topped if she had gone into labor,
but she didn't.
         The standoff and my subsequent interviewing of several witnesses
took
until about 2:45, which is when I just happened to think of the time. I was
wondering what edition of the paper my story might appear in and how I was
seeing a lot of quietly newsworthy things today, how even my meeting with
Mr.... Yikes!
         I rushed back to the Planet and up to the Pit (using the stairs
again), arriving by 2:49 because I really flew when I was sure I couldn't be
unseen. I tossed my camera to Jeanne, begging her to find someone to
process my
pictures because I didn't have time.
         She was cool; she said, "Sure thing. But you owe me," and she
winked.
         Well, I could have done it, but I don't mind owing her (I don't
think
that wink meant anything dangerous), and I didn't want to stand up Mr.
Interregnum. I had a draft of my story (probably with too much detail since
I
had time to compose it on my run back to the Planet), in Mr. White's hands
via
LAN by 2:55. Fortunately, no one bothered me back in my cubby hole and I
could
type a little faster than might have been possible for a normal person. Also
fortunately, the keyboard on my desk's computer is a sturdy one.
         I met with my tea-time colleagues at 2:58 in front of the
elevators,
and while we chatted nervously, I had a moment to think about the incident I
had just written up. What would The Silver Knight have done had he heard
about
it? He would have had to find the van and change clothes. At the same time,
whoever was driving would have had to maneuver as close as possible to the
action while making sure there was a clear route for a quick getaway.
         Lois Lane would have been busy making plans. She would have given
TSK
complete, detailed instructions and he would have listened intently,
memorizing
her every word. Then she would have patted him on the head and pushed him
out
the back. He would have arrived on the scene walking, running or stumbling,
or
maybe he would have jumped over the police, and... what? Startled everyone
and
used the advantage to disarm the combatants? What if he alarmed them instead
and they and the police began shooting at him? That black and silver outfit
may
turn out to be frightening rather than something that inspires confidence.
The
"hero" is *hiding* under those clothes. Why should anyone trust him any more
than they trust masked burglars?
         Worst of all, of course, The Silver Knight could not have stuck
around
afterwards to get interviews and take pictures.
         An elevator finally arrived, half full, and we headed upward,
dropping
people off on the way. When it was just us three at last, Mrs. Fisler
admitted
that her heart was "all aflutter." Sam agreed that his was, too; he didn't
think he was important enough to be invited for tea or anything else. His
palms
were sweaty but they always get that way before important events. I patted
my
stomach as though it were reacting to my being nervous and I said, "This
*is*
exciting, isn't it?"
         We arrived at last. The elevator opened to reveal a quiet,
normal-looking lobby with a uniformed security guard reading a magazine. His
desk featured two small security camera monitors. One showed a long view of
the
lobby some 28 stories below, and the other a wide view of what a few moments
later I was to see was the roof outside the penthouse, which includes a
helipad.
         We gave the security guard our names. He checked them and our badge
numbers against a list, nodded, and said we could proceed through double
frosted-glass doors to our right. Beyond these was the penthouse lobby
itself:
it was plant filled and well lighted, a pleasant introduction to what we
were
to see.
         A petite, young blond woman with an engaging smile met us before we
could feel like we were loitering. "Mr. Interregnum told me you were coming!
I'm Sharon, his secretary, and you're..." She identified us as she shook our
hands. She sounded like it was a thrill and a privilege to meet us. She then
asked us to follow her to "the patio."
         Sam whispered an aside to me, "She obviously doesn't get out
much..."
This was a follow up on his lament in the elevator that the most important
thing he's ever done was interview Sammy Sosa, but I've read his work and
it's
fine. I think Sharon was right; it's a privilege to know Sam. It's a
privilege
to know everyone.
         I said, "She must be very busy," because I've never met a secretary
who wasn't busy.
         "She's cute," Mrs. Fisler whispered. She gave me a sly smile and
poked
me gently with her elbow. She could only reach my waist. "She's not wearing
a
wedding ring and she's your age, Clark."
         I smiled but I'm glad we didn't have time to discuss this.
         We were taken through an area with sparkling clean picture windows,
comfortable couches and chairs, coffee tables, a big TV, more plants, and
other
furnishings that made me think of a living room. We glimpsed a kitchen,
heard
cooking noises and caught the aroma of something delicate and undoubtedly
tasty. I'm glad that the chef didn't have a stroke or, if he did, he
recovered
quickly.
         As we moved further into the penthouse, I noticed all the windows.
Because of them, there was no need for artificial lights to be turned on.
The
furniture was light and friendly, colors here were cheerful, and a variety
of
plants thrived.
         I couldn't help but compare this penthouse to the one I visited
Saturday evening. Luthor's hideaway has a truly commanding view and you,
dear
great-grandchildren, will recall that it is furnished in rich, dark woods,
giving it an almost brooding atmosphere. The impression is that it can
withstand any storm, while Mr. Interregnum's penthouse, with all its windows
and its open, friendly air, probably quivers with every breeze. I'm sure
that
it's actually quite sturdy and has weathered many summer thunderstorms and
winter blizzards, but what did both areas say about their occupants?
         Luthor's penthouse speaks of experience, even permanence. He no
doubt
picked out many of the furnishings himself, particularly the weapons
collection. The man knows what he wants (to live richly) and lots of ways to
get it (the weapons indicate that).
         Interregnum's penthouse is almost inconsequential. It doesn't seem
to
represent him; I can't imagine him doing the decorating (maybe Sharon
helped?).
Does the impression it gives mean that he takes his wealth less seriously or
that he just hasn't had the time to make the place his own? I don't know
enough
about him or the way he does things to say.
         Or rather, I didn't know then. I've learned a few things since.
         The man in question was waiting for us out on the patio, his back
turned to us. Sharon told him we had arrived and he followed her back in, a
big
smile on his handsome face.
         "My friends! My first guests this month! Come out here and look at
the
beautiful clouds on the horizon!" He led us out, chattering about how he
enjoys
the view and would move his desk out onto the patio if it weren't for the
breeze. The view is a fine one; many of the city's taller buildings can be
seen
>from the Daily Planet's central location.
         He looked at us. "Isn't this just marvelous? Don't you wish you
could
fly? I do!"
         We all nodded, though Mrs. Fisler ventured to say, "I think I'd
close
my eyes. I get a little airsick sometimes..."
         "Oh, dear, I hope not! That would be sad. I bet *you* don't get
airsick, Sam."
         Sam grinned and shook his head. "I've flown down to the Metros'
training camp in Florida lots of times without any trouble at all."
         "Is that the red-eye?"
         "Sometimes."
         "They serve a lot of coffee and..." he looked conspiratorial,
"...other things on those flights, don't they?"
         Sam admitted, "Sometimes, yes--"
         "They do a little partying, too, hmm?"
         "Yes, they do, but I only participate on the way back, with team
members."
         "Good idea! I bet you like to fly, too, eh, Clark?" His blue-gray
eyes
sparkled. I can see that he was trying to comfort Mrs. Fisler, though this
is
not the way I would have advised him to do it. "And I bet *you* don't need
to
party to work up your courage."
         I noted here that Sam blinked in surprise. I don't blame him.
         Mr. Interregnum continued, "You look like you have that instinctive
intestinal fortitude that most men can only dream about!"
         He looked me right in the eye, his face steady, his expression
probing, pressing, as though he were daring me to deny that I'm brave.
         But all I could think was... huh? This is a very strange
conversation.
"Pardon, sir?"
         He relented, relaxing. "Well, you're young yet. I bet you fly *all*
the time though."
         "Not all the time, sir, but I do enjoy it."
         "Flying is a wonderful thing, but in deference to you, Mrs.
Fisler,"
he put his arm around her shoulders and turned us away from the view, "and
because the wind has come up, we'll have our tea inside."
         Sharon and a man I assume was the chef (he looked healthy) put out
a
silver tea service on a glass-topped table just inside the living room area.
Their work was complete when the chef set out a tray full of fresh pastries.
         Mr. Interregnum served, chuckling about the joy he found in doing
this. Then he began his new hobby of getting to know his employees by asking
Mrs. Fisler about her latest column on an unusual kindergarten program in
one
of the suburban schools. Next he asked me about my trip to EPRAD this
morning
and sympathized about my being unable to bamboozle the security guards. Why
would he think I'd try to do that? Finally, he asked Sam about the Metros'
chances this year and Sam had a good ten minutes worth of thoughts and
inside
tips. These interested me, of course, and surprisingly Mrs. Fisler had a few
opinions on the careers of several team members. Mr. Interregnum's eyes
seemed
to glaze over after about four minutes, but I think I'm the only one who
noticed and he did encourage Sam to babble on, so....
         At about 3:25, after we had finished off most of the pastries and
several cups of tea each, Sharon tiptoed into the entrance and whispered,
"Your
conference call...?"
         Mr. Interregnum looked up. "Oh, yes! I'll be there in a moment!" He
sighed. "I hate to bring this to an end but I must. You know how business
is...."
         We all nodded.
         "I've really enjoyed this and I'll be inviting you all again
soon!" He
rose, so we did, too. "And take these pastries with you. If you don't,
they'll
just sit out here and go stale."
         Mrs. Fisler took charge of this and promised to return the cloth
napkin she used. Mr. Interregnum told her not to worry about it. She said
no,
she would worry; she'd have it back to him tomorrow at the latest.
         He chuckled about that and escorted us most of the way back to the
penthouse lobby. Just as we arrived, though, he paused and said, "Oh, Clark,
a
moment, please?"
         I want to note here that he never actually asked permission to
call me
or Sam by our first names, though he did address Mrs. Fisler as Mrs. Fisler
at
all times. I don't mind this - he is after all my employer's employer - but
at
no time did I feel that I could address him as "Chronus," "Pooky," or even
"Tim," and he didn't indicate that he wanted to be known as anything other
than
Mr. Interregnum.
         So naturally I said, "Sir?"
         "I thought of some more questions about the Prometheus program. If
you
could stay behind for a few minutes so we could chat about it, I'd like your
inside views, hmm?"
         He hadn't asked much about that around the table; there hadn't been
time. "Certainly, sir."
         "Good, good! I'll ask Sharon to keep you company while I'm on the
phone..." and he turned away, heading for his office.
         I took the opportunity to look to my companions. "If he asks, would
you please tell Mr. White that I've been delayed?"
         They both nodded, but Sam spoke first and in a close, confidential
whisper. "Be careful, Clark. I don't like how he implied that I party on the
red eye and get drunk with the team." He frowned. "I *don't* drink. I don't
want to. I can't. I'm a diabetic."
         The few times I've talked to him, I haven't smelled alcohol on
Sam's
breath. When he was at the tea table, he chose carefully from among the
pastries. Mr. Interregnum had joked about that several times during our
chat,
and Sam had laughed along. What else could he do?
         "I hate to talk unkindly about anyone," Mrs. Fisler said, also in a
whisper, "but his attitude certainly is..." She is too much of a lady to
finish
the sentence, but the first word I thought of to fill in the blank was
"condescending."
         Then she brightened and said in a louder, more normal voice, "I'm
glad
you get the chance to talk to that sweet young woman though...."
         I'm sure she said it that way because Sharon had come to the door
behind us.
         I smiled at our hostess, but not too much, and told my friends I'd
see
them later because the security guard was at the other door indicating that
an
elevator had arrived.

(continued)
=========================================================================
Date:         Sun, 4 Jul 1999 07:15:48 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      NEW:  My Journal, Day 8, Part 05 of 09
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

TITLE: My Journal
         Day 8, Tuesday, May 10, PART 05 of 09
         AUTHOR Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com
         RATING PG-13 (for one common swear word)

         Sharon escorted me back to the living room area and pointing out an
individual, comfortable-looking chair for me to sit in rather than one of
the
couches. She sat on a chair, too.
         "Well," she said. She composed herself, her hands on her lap. She
sat
on the edge of the chair, almost like she didn't want to be here. She was
polite though. "Mr. Interregnum says you're from Kansas."
         Like Lex Luthor, Mr. Interregnum must have checked up on his
guests,
too. I think that Personnel's records are supposed to be private, but I
wouldn't be surprised if he applied a little pressure. However, that
information was also published in the Daily Planet on Wednesday, so I
couldn't
complain. I said, "Yes, from Smallville. Are you a native Metro...
Metropolitan?"
         She smiled. "I've wondered what they call themselves, too. I moved
here from Nebraska three months ago."
         "Three months and you've survived. There's hope for me then. How
have
you been doing?"
         Quite well. She stayed at the YWCA until she got her present
position,
through an employment agency, within a week of her arrival. She enjoys her
job
and likes Mr. Interregnum immensely. "He's very protective of me," she said,
"right down to wondering if I'm enjoying my free time. Well, of course I am!
Metropolis is marvelous!"
         "Have you been able to see a lot of it?"
         "Oh, yes! For example, I've been to several plays already. They
don't
have that in Ainsworth! I even went to the White Orchid Ball as Mr.
Interregnum's *date*!"
         I smiled for her. To be escorted by of one of the city's richest
men
must have been exciting. Look what I got: Lola.
         Well, Sharon is pretty. She reminds me a little of you, Mom. She's
not
just blond but strawberry blond and she's built a little like you, on the
small
side, but healthy looking. She didn't grow up on a farm but did visit her
uncle's farm every summer before she left Nebraska for the big city. I also
found that her being almost from home added to her attraction, and her
enthusiasm for living here in Metropolis was infectious.
         I said, "I've only managed to tour a little of the city, mostly
while
on the job, and last Sunday I went to a movie." Why admit this? Because I
was
getting ready to jump. My libido (I think) demanded *go for it, Kent! Live a
little!* "But I'd sure like to see a lot more. I understand there's a group
that performs Shakespeare at the park outside the Metropolis Zoo and they
happen to be giving a performance tonight." This information was in the free
arts and entertainment paper I read on Sunday. "Would you like to go to
that?
With me?" I'd figure out some way to get to her home. We could hail a cab
from
there or, if she thought it would be fun, take a bus and cab back. In any
case,
I could afford to splurge. "It would be more fun to chat there than here."
         I hate to say this but her face lost just a touch of its animation
and
she retreated verbally. "Oh, well... I'm... busy tonight, Mr. Kent, and... I
already have plans...."
         Note that: "Mr. Kent."  Out in the lobby when she had greeted us
I'd
said, "I'm Clark," and she'd said, "Clark, nice to meet you," but now it was
"Mr. Kent." I didn't miss this, believe me. I retreated a bit, too, but I
managed another smile. I was disappointed, no doubt about it. The last time
I
had a date was in Smallville, two weeks ago, and that was with Rachel, who
I've
known practically all my life. So while it was fun and Wichita still has a
few
surprises up its sleeve, that wasn't really a date. We just saw a movie and
shared some laughs and one friendly little kiss. The last time I asked out a
woman who I'd only just met was a year ago in Sydney - and she turned me
down,
too, and that was just to go for a walk in a nearby amusement park.
         I don't understand this. Do I scare women off or something? I'm not
good at this kind of thing, I guess. I never seem to know the right thing to
say or what a woman wants to hear. Maybe I need more practice. Maybe I just
need to get out more and not be sitting here at night writing up this
journal
even though it takes only a few minutes. Well, it isn't seven yet and I have
tomorrow off and plans. There's still time to go out tonight.
         *However*... in my own defense I did hear something interesting
about
all this a little later, and I'll tell you about it in chronological order.
         Mr. Interregnum charged into the room before Sharon and I could get
even more uncomfortable with each other. He stopped between us and said,
"Well,
that was a waste of time!"
         Sharon stood up immediately (I had already done so automatically),
and
for some reason she must have felt responsible because she said, "Oh, I'm
sorry!"
         He shook his head and said, "No, no, I just didn't prepare things
right." Then he added, more gently, "It's not you, dear girl. It's
conference
calls! They're for the birds!"
         She looked relieved. I wonder about their relationship. Is it less
idyllic than she implies? She seems so eager to please. Is he a harsh
taskmaster despite his bouncy demeanor? She said, "Well, you know how Mr.
Gates
and Mr. Eisner can get...."
         "Yes." He released her from his gaze and pinned it on me. "Clark!
Would you come into my office? We can talk there." He turned, assuming I'd
follow him. I did so, and he closed the door behind us. If he noticed
Sharon's
surprised expression as the door closed in her face - she had been following
us, probably prepared to do secretarial things for him - he didn't react. I
think he noted my reaction. I was surprised, too, and almost said something,
but his expression, which briefly seemed to challenge me to speak, made me
hesitate until it was too late.
         Almost immediately, he put his arm around my shoulder (too
friendly, I
think) and guided me to a chair. "Sit down, m'boy, sit down.... There." In a
padded leather chair. It was to one side of a large, modern-style,
glass-topped
desk which he sat down behind. He turned his chair so that we almost faced
each
other. On the desk was an electronic device that looked like a combination
telephone, dictation machine, clock, television and who knows what else. He
flicked a button on it and the windows seemed to turn slightly opaque. "Now
we
can talk privately."
         "Sir?"
         He sat back and smiled. "I love the view, but I have no doubt that
there are certain people who are keeping a close watch on me. This," with a
flip of his hand he indicated the windows and what he had done to them,
"protects me."
         Wealthy people really are paranoid; I had the proof: two for two.
All
I could say was, "I see," but what I did was something I didn't do with
Luthor:
I got zen. That's how I think of it. If Mr. Interregnum can dim his windows
with a switch, that same switch can activate other equipment which can
monitor
his guests. If I were a paranoid billionaire (and it sounds like I am a
paranoid person with $2,371 in savings, doesn't it?) I'd be watching my
guests,
too. Come to think of it, over the past several days I *have* watched
certain
people for changes in body language and vital signs, haven't I? And I think
I've had good reason to. At least Luthor would have had a harder time
monitoring me in the back seat of a moving vehicle. I bet he thought he
didn't
have to worry about monitoring me though.
         By "zen" I mean that I determined that no matter what he said, and
it
could be anything at all, anything - even the unthinkable - I would react
calmly, innocently, naturally, humanly, and with curiosity if the situation
demanded. But I would give nothing away, nothing.
         I started by sitting back comfortably and giving him an opening: "A
man in your position can't be too careful."
         He considered me carefully. This was fine with me. He said finally,
"No, he certainly can't. He has to try to see all and know all to protect
himself, but no matter how hard he tries sometimes, things still..." He
shook
his head. "...blow up...."
         This is where I saw an opportunity to pick up the ball again and
take
it to safer territory. "You wanted to know more about the Prometheus
Program.
I'm afraid I don't know very much. I only started covering it in depth after
the Messenger disaster." I decided not to mention Dr. Platt since he was
still
missing and hadn't figured into any stories we had published. "I do have
some
information about Lex Luthor's plans to...."
         At the mention of that name Mr. Interregnum shuddered and looked
away.
         "Sir? Is something wrong?"
         "That man...." He shook his head. "I'll never understand him."
         "He is known to be something of a mystery..." which I suppose, now
that I think of it, implied that I was finding Mr. Interregnum to be open
and
honest. That isn't the case, but I wonder if he took it that way.
         "Lex wasn't a mystery to me. I used to know him quite well." Mr.
Interregnum sat forward. "And now that you've gotten to talk to him, what do
*you* think of him?"
         I shrugged and said honestly, "He's still a mystery."
         "I think the expression is... 'he holds his cards close to his
chest.'"
         "Well, he owns most of the cards. I guess he can hold them
wherever he
wants--"
         "Exactly! And he used to be a poor street urchin. Hard to imagine,
isn't it? But I found him and nurtured him and made him into the *monster*
he
is today!"
         I let slip with, "That is hard to imagine," then realized I better
explain myself. "--not that it didn't happen, but you're both about the same
age, I think...." Side by side they might look like brothers, adopted
brothers,
but of nearly the same age in a timeless sort of way.
         Mr. Interregnum smiled. "Yes, that's right, that's right, but you
may
not know this: *I* come from a wealthy family. *He* was born dirt poor under
wretched conditions. If ever a family ate rock soup three times a day, it
was
his. Naturally you wonder how I got to know him. It was because in my youth
my
loving parents gave me a fine education but they kept me sheltered. I knew,
though, that one day I would be taking over the family business and that I'd
never be able to trust my father's hoary old business associates." He
stressed
the "hoary", as though the associates would have held him back. "That has
been
the case, by the way, and that's why I decided early in life to create a
cadre
of people I can trust. Luthor was going to be the first among them. I found
him
by scouring the city." Now he stressed "scouring" perhaps he had taken the
task
on himself as a personal quest. "There were many candidates and I observed
them
all from a distance, but he stood out for the position I needed to fill
first
and foremost."
         I should note here that I began to think that he was making all of
this up. There was something about his body language that said he wanted me
to
believe this story. People giving an honest, straightforward account don't
usually feel the need to be believed, especially if they are comfortable or
at
peace with themselves. Maybe parts of his story are true, but I think the
bulk
of it is fantasy.
         This means, I told myself, I better play along. "Lex Luthor?"
         "The very man. I engineered certain... opportunities to present
themselves and he didn't fail to notice and seize each one."
         I think it was okay for me to sound a little skeptical. "Such
as...?"
         "Hmmm.... Ah! He needed transportation to get to his first job. I
made
certain he was able to acquire a good car at a reasonable loan rate."
         As you might say, Mom (but I didn't say aloud), "Uh-huh...." I just
nodded.
         "He was working as a carpenter and I had my sources suggest to him,
through his foreman, that a wise man would take business courses at the
Metropolis Technical-Vocational Institute."
         Uh-huh.... "That's a good idea."
         "He did take them and, as I expected, he passed with flying colors
in
a quarter of the time most students require. This confirmed my *faith* in
him!
Little did I know.... Next, via my channels I let him know that the company
he
was working for was for sale and that if he moved swiftly and talked to
certain
people, he could acquire the funds he needed to purchase it. He did move
fast,
faster than a speeding bullet. I then made certain that his company obtained
a
number of lucrative contracts, and he flourished. You may have heard of
Luthor
Contracting International? Now you know how it *really* got started, and it
was
all thanks to *me*."
         "That's incredible!" It's also a more detailed version of what
Luthor
told me (you'll recall he simply said he "obtained funding" to buy the
company
he worked for). How Luthor really did it may be common knowledge (which I
haven't had time to learn yet) and Mr. Interregnum may simply have
incorporated
it into his story.
         Yet there is the question of *why* Mr. Interregnum would do this
and
why he was telling me, of all people.

(continued)
=========================================================================
Date:         Sun, 4 Jul 1999 07:15:52 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      NEW:  My Journal, Day 8, Part 06 of 09
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

TITLE: My Journal
         Day 8, Tuesday, May 10, PART 06 of 09
         AUTHOR Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com
         RATING PG-13 (for one common swear word)

         "It is incredible, yes! I made certain that he had other
opportunities, and, as I hoped he would, he picked the right ones and he was
soon on his way to becoming the man he is today."
         "One of the richest men on earth."
         "Yes!"
         "Some say he's richer than you, sir." Actually that "some" was
Luthor,
who told me on Monday that his holdings are more spread out and thus "safer
in
a volatile world market" than Mr. Interregnum's. Luthor said this isn't
surprising as Interregnum is "a reckless, evil-minded fool who cares about
no
one but himself."
         I didn't mention any of this to Mr. Interregnum; it would have just
fed his paranoia and made me into a tattletale.
         "It all depends on how wealth is counted, wouldn't you say? Take
you,
for example, Clark. You don't have a lot of money and you live in a rundown
tenement, but you have a strong background and you're young and full of
promise. In some ways you remind me of myself...."
         I thought it best to smile at this, to take it as a compliment,
though
I think I resemble him even less than I resemble Lois Lane.
         "Ah, well..." he sighed. "You know, in my own way, I'm still proud
of
Lex. While we shook hands now and then and were on a distantly friendly
basis
with each other, we finally formally met and had a chance to talk in private
only a year ago."
         "I bet that was something to behold."
         "Yes...." He looked away, at his right hand. He was tapping his
fingers on the desk, restless. "It should have been something, it should
have
made wonderful headlines. Last year he bought stock in this very company and
I
organized a party of all the stockholders to celebrate his entry into the
fold
- my fold. I love this paper; it's my pride and joy. It was one of the first
properties I bought into when I got control of my family's business, and I
regret that I haven't paid close enough attention to it lately...."
         He focused on something on the wall behind me. I turned to look. It
was a framed front page of The Planet dated five years ago. The headline
announced a presidential summit, but down in the right-hand corner, under
"Business Briefs" was an alert about a stock acquisition, more news inside.
         "But I feel invigorated suddenly, so all that will change. Hmm...
Where was I...."
         I sat back. "The party?"
         "Yes. I held it right here, in this very penthouse, and afterward I
took him aside - very much like I've taken you aside now - and I greeted him
like a long-lost brother...."
         I tried to picture the two men embracing each other, but my
imagination is not that good.
         "...I fear I may have been... too enthusiastic."
         Let me guess: "Did you tell him all you'd done?"
         "Yes. Like a fool, I did, when I should have held my own cards
close.
Sometimes it seems I never learn who I can trust...."
         "And he didn't believe you."
         "Well, how could he? He has his pride, I see that. I should have
seen
it then, too, and not piled on detail after detail but kept him unaware and
in
my pocket."
         He paused, perhaps hoping I would think about being privileged to
hear
all this. However, I thought about the word "pocket," which I'd last heard
yesterday when Mr. White used it in a similar context in the conference room
and then in Eduardo's office. Was this just a coincidence or was Luthor
right
and has Mr. Interregnum bugged the Planet's newsroom? Was this a veiled
message
>from Mr. Interregnum or an accidental usage? I think the latter. While I
detected that he enjoys using double entendres even though the likelihood
that
his audience understands them is small, I can't think why Mr. Interregnum
would
be sending me veiled messages.
         He continued: "He thinks he created his wealth all by himself,
that he
came by his business acumen naturally, that he is a self-made man. But in my
eagerness to greet him at last as an equal...." He paused and looked
thoughtful
for a long moment.
         I sat by, ready. Despite my suspicions of him (so much for trying
to
remain objective), I found myself sympathizing with him a little given my
own
lack of siblings. Yet I had more than enough friends to make up for that. He
says he led a sheltered life and if that's true, maybe it gave him social
problems later on in life.
         "I made him into an enemy," he said quietly, "I gave him his start
-
and he turned against me."
         "He did?"
         "I should have expected it, after what he did to *his own
parents*...." He blinked as though suddenly close to tears. "Needless to
say,
when I found out about that and could relate it to a number of other things
I
suspect he's done... it was much too late for me to do anything about it. I
didn't create a monster because he already was one. *That* part of him I
take
*no* credit for!"
         I could only shake my head, not blaming him either, but clearly I
have
to find out about Lex Luthor's parents. It may be something you can do from
home, Dad, but *very carefully*.
         "Clark, I admit that being born into wealth, sometimes I'm a little
too... laissez faire, shall we say?"
         "That's not a *bad* thing...."
         "No, no, it's not. Luthor, on the other hand, is ruthless. Maybe
it's
because of his soiled origin, the poverty of his youth. Maybe he blames
everyone else for that and he wants to punish us all. He clawed his way up
from
the very bottom - or thinks he did, and that's as good as the real thing for
him. I should have realized that what I saw in him originally wasn't simply
natural talent but the instincts of a *killer*...."
         I sensed that Mr. Interregnum was asking for some kind of
absolution.
That's the only word I have for it. "Well, you were young...."
         "Terribly young... and terribly hurt when it became clear to me
last
autumn that he has decided he wants to annex *my* gentle empire and take it
over entirely!"
         I made sure my body signs reflected surprise and some terror about
this. "Wow...!"
         He looked at me with soulful eyes. "Clark.... You know, there's
something about you that makes me feel free to talk...."
         "Well, sir, if you don't feel like--"
         "On the contrary, I feel wonderful! I haven't been able to talk to
anyone about this! But you... you - I know I can trust you implicitly. I
see in
you the makings of a good first officer, of a man whose dedication to his
work
I can depend on."
         "Well...." What could I say? That I'd heard something like this the
day before? Are all billionaires this hard up for friends? Beats me. I said
nothing, but I did squirm and smile a bit, the overwhelmed, happy puppy,
hoping
this was what he wanted to see.
         "You've already proven that you're dedicated to The Daily Planet.
Your
stories are *marvelous!* You care about people and it shows. You've been
employed here a week and already you've made a good impression on all the
stockholders - or most of them. That's one reason I wanted to talk to you,
to
warn you."
          I blinked, my happy mood threatened. "Warn me?"
         "Yes, warn you. If we're not careful, you may become yet another
pawn
in a *very* dangerous game."
         "A pawn?"
         "A pawn on a big chessboard, but an important pawn, a critical one,
since we know you are likely to be used. *He's* already taken an interest in
you, hasn't he?"
         I nodded and widened my eyes to acknowledge his mastery of the
situation, all the time thinking it was a good thing I kept my information
about Luthor to myself and didn't tell Mr. White yet.
         "Yes..." he said, a note of wisdom in his voice. "You know, Clark,
you
remind me a little of another reporter who made the same kind of impact you
have. Unfortunately, I didn't realize it at the time - I blame myself
entirely
- but Lex Luthor realized it and he destroyed her *just* to tweak my nose!"
         Uh-huh. I immediately wondered what his version of the story was.
         I gulped, fascinated. "Destroyed her?"
         "That's the only word to describe it. I can see now that it was
part
of his master plan. She could write and was a skilled reporter, but she was
young and, unlike you, she lacked a certain... perspective and self
control."
         He's right about that, isn't he? "She did?"
         "She was ambitious, flighty and ultimately unreliable. In
retrospect,
I think she was using The Planet as a stepping stone and that she didn't
care
who she stepped on. Sometimes I wonder what her priorities really were....
When
Luthor discovered her sterling qualities, he started using her. I don't know
whether she was blind to it or if she realized what was happening and she
thought she could control the situation. She had *no* idea who she was
dealing
with though."
         I suspect he paused here to let me dwell on the idea of control and
how few of us ("us" being the not-wealthy classes) have control over our
lives.
He and Luthor control their own lives and the lives of countless others,
and if
those who have no control are smart, we choose the right side to protect us,
hmm?
         But I don't think this has to be the case. It paid to grow up
influenced by parents who encouraged me at every step to be a free thinker
and
take responsibility for my own actions.
         However... Mr. Interregnum does seem to understand Lois Lane quite
well. If he's right, it explains her current obsession. He was also
describing
in her the kind of person I don't really enjoy associating with. Is that why
she makes me so uncomfortable? I began to wish yet again that I knew more
about
her, that our meetings - our *clashes* - had been under better
circumstances.
         "It is my belief that he suspected what she was doing and used
third
parties to feed her information about himself, some of it true... but the
most
tantalizing parts of it totally false. He also gave her information about me
and his other competitors. Her misplaced enthusiasm carried her away and she
wrote a series of stories and then convinced poor Perry to run them. My
fellow
board members saw the first one, saw a threat to themselves, and demanded
the
series be quashed. It was. I had just gotten back in town from a trip to
Peking
and barely had a chance to read the article, but things were moving fast
already. Luthor rallied the other shareholders and they decided on some
truly
draconian measures. I fought them tooth and nail! Ms. Lane had to be
disciplined, I understand that, but they *fired* her! They didn't call it
that,
of course, but that's what it was."
         "What happened to her?"
         He looked grim. I think this part of his reaction was real. "I
don't
know. I've been trying to track her down. I want to get her out of town to a
safe place where she can be rehabilitated and her skills redirected to more
useful pursuits. I don't know if it's possible, but she's not *entirely* to
blame for what happened to her. I've been expecting her to resurface, maybe
working for one of Luthor's publications in some other part of the country -
I
wouldn't be surprised. He destroys her - then offers her assistance... but
it's
been months...."
         "Months...."
         "And her parents and sister are gone, too...."
         I'm sure he mentioned them so that I would think about you, Mom and
Dad. "They're gone? All of them?"
         "Yes. Sometime I think Lex Luthor just did away with them all since
she was no longer of any use to him."
         "Oh my...."
         "That's why we have to protect you."
         I blinked. "Me?"
         "You're the Daily Planet's rising star now. He's sure to be
trolling
for you. He gave you something already, didn't he?"
         Since we had talked about it in the newsroom, I could freely say,
"His
action plan for the space program."
         "And do you believe everything that's in it?"
         "Ah... I don't know." This was true.
         "It's good to be skeptical. He's come off as the program's savior,
hasn't he?"

(continued)
=========================================================================
Date:         Sun, 4 Jul 1999 07:15:59 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      NEW:  My Journal, Day 8, Part 07 of 09
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

TITLE: My Journal
         Day 8, Tuesday, May 10, PART 07 of 09
         AUTHOR Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com
         RATING PG-13 (for one common swear word)

         Well... "More or less...."
         He smiled. Cat's snake metaphor came to mind. "I appreciate you
trying
to keep your objectivity, but I'm going to give you something, or rather,
someone, who will tell you exactly what Lex Luthor is capable of!"
         It turns out that the penthouse is for public consumption. The next
floor down holds a spacious, multiroom apartment where Mr. Interregnum says
he
stays when he's in town. In one of the bedrooms he had hidden... Dr. Samuel
Platt.
         You see, dear great-grandchildren? I told you today got exciting.
         Mr. Interregnum opened the door to the bedroom quietly. We could
see
that there is a spacious desk under one of the windows (the window was
covered
by a heavy curtain) and Dr. Platt was working at the desk, scribbling away
furiously. He had already cluttered up the place with papers, books and the
like; it must have felt like home.
         I was going to say "Dr. Platt!" but Mr. Interregnum hushed me and
closed the door again. He put his arm around my shoulder (now it felt big
brotherly) and turned me away. "I've had second thoughts. He's not really
ready
to talk. He will be on Friday, after the launch of the New Hope. He's safe
here
now, after all - I've had a doctor look at him - and he's having fun
doodling
away at his theories."
         "But we have the police looking for him--"
         "I know, I know." He patted me on my back and let me go, not
overdoing
it. "And I think they should *keep* looking for him, too."
         "You do? - Oh, to fool Luthor?"
         "Yes, precisely. I'm glad you understand that."
         I understood more than that. "Do you think Luthor would... destroy
him, too?"
         "Yes, I do. I've been looking for the next place Luthor will
strike,
and I had the idea it might be the space program. Unfortunately, I was
right."
         "Dr. Platt was sure that the Messenger would explode but couldn't
prove it and we couldn't find anything concrete to back up his assertions.
Do
you think the explosion was sabotage and that Luthor had something to do
with
it?" As you know, *I* certainly think he did.
         "I'm afraid I do."
         "Do you have any proof? Does Dr. Platt? We searched his
apartment...."
         "But didn't come up with anything." Mr. Interregnum shook his head
sadly. "Neither did my agents."
         "Oh." Drat.
         "Dr. Platt himself is the only link and I don't want to bring him
into
the light until *you* find the proof we need to end Lex Luthor's violence."
         "Me...?"
         "Who better? He doesn't know you like I do. He has no clue."
         "No, he doesn't..." while I thought, "Just what do *you* know?"
More
than he should?
         "And he won't, not until it's far too late for him to reverse the
downward trend we'll set him on. You and I, working together, keeping each
other informed, making careful plans, are an invincible force."
         "Invincible...."
         He smiled. "I like the sound of that, too. "
         It sounded weird to me.
         "I'm thirsty. Would you like a drink? I warn you, I don't indulge
in
alcohol. I want all my faculties to be sharp and clear, so I drink organic
juices. If you would like one...."
         As this wasn't a bribe - he had already bribed me with everything
from
the midafternoon pastries to the glimpse of Dr. Platt - I accepted.
         He had his chef pour small apple juices for us, took me back
upstairs
to the penthouse, and we sat in the living room, where we savored the
drinks.
It was quiet for a few long minutes. I have no doubt he expected me to be
thinking about everything and he was right, I was.
         He said at last. "Clark...."
         "Sir?" I thought at this point that he'd ask me to call him by a
more
familiar name (anything but Pooky), but he didn't. Now I think that he
didn't
correct me because he was probably making sure I understood my subordinate
position in his grand plan.
         "I have this horrible image..." he seemed to be gazing into the
distance. "...of Lex Luthor slowly... *devouring* the world. I'm sure as
little
as you know about him that you can see that, too...."
         I nodded. "Yes, sir." Not oddly, given my jungle experiences, I can
see Luthor doing that.
         However, I can see Mr. Interregnum trying to do the same thing.
         "He already has the ears of many world leaders, politicians and
captains of industry. In their folly they idolize him and they scramble for
the
crumbs he throws them. Everyone does, they can't help it. No one has the
least
idea of his real agenda. No one but...."
         "You and me...."
         He nodded. "Yes. I'm sure you saw that yesterday. He invited you to
talk with him and he said nice things about you and gave you that report,
and
now you're beholden to him."
         "Yes, I think so."
         "I knew you'd see through him instantly. He won't believe what
you're
truly capable of. *I* know you better. I know you're capable of great things
and I support you wholeheartedly." He put his empty glass down on the coffee
table and said confidentially, "He thinks the future is his bauble and that
he
can control everything and everyone. We must snatch that bauble back from
him
and return it to its proper course or... or I fear we're in for a very bumpy
ride.
         I nodded. "I agree."
         "He's not my choice for emperor of the universe."
         "Nor mine." Me, I lean toward John Lennon. What with his surviving
the
assassination attempt because Yoko knows karate and wasn't afraid to use it,
and lately his lobbying so hard for world peace, he's the perfect candidate.
         But I didn't say that. Instead I said, "So what can I do to help?"
         "I want you to know that you're not alone, that you have a friend
in a
very high place. I have several plans in motion and I can see places where
your
special talents will improve them greatly. I want to give you certain
responsibilities because you've more than proved that you can handle them.
We
don't have time to talk about any of that right now - I've kept you much too
long." He rose and began to escort me toward the lobby. "I'll be keeping in
touch with you. First we'll work together on thwarting Luthor's plans for
the
space program. I want you to stay in place, ready for my call."
         "I'll try, sir, if it doesn't interfere with my job...."
         "Of course not. We mustn't let on that you and I are working on a
secret plan to protect the future."
         "That sounds..." I think my smile was both nervous and excited,
"...wonderful."
         He half embraced me again. "A bit overwhelming, too, hmm?"
         I tried my best to act like I relished his support. "Yes."
         "Well, Clark, you can rely on me. I foresee that your future is
very
important to the future as a whole, and I want to nurture both."
         "Thank you, sir."
         He gently shoved me toward the primary lobby and the elevators. "On
your way now, my friend!"
         I moved along and smiled back at him. He nodded like a proud older
brother and then turned away into the penthouse, out of sight.
         But not out of earshot. The guard said, "An elevator's on the way."
         I nodded and faced the doors of the elevator on my left,
listening....
         Mr. Interregnum had returned to the living room area and summoned
Sharon. "My dear young woman. You had the perfect chance to go out on a date
with that charming young man and you *blew* it."
         "'Blew it'? But, sir, he's not my type--"
         "How can he not be? He's tall, handsome, doe-eyed, gullible...."
         "But he's from *Kansas*?"
         He mocked her whine. "And you're from *Nebraska*! Believe me, I
know
you're *perfect* for each other. You're small, blond, a little lost in the
world, and that brings out the protective qualities in a man, especially in
*him*."
         The elevator arrived.
         "But if I wanted to date someone from back home I would have
*stayed*
back home."
         The elevator door opened.
         "Sharon, my dear, I want you to try just a little harder to
overcome
your prejudices...."
         I stepped into the elevator.
         "...or you'll be *returning* to Nebraska faster than you can say
Shakespeare in"
         The elevator door closed. Drat. As the elevator might be bugged
with
microphones and cameras, I stood there looking a little breathless.
         Well, at least she didn't turn me down for a personal reason. I'm
more
than just from Kansas but she didn't want to know that. It was the same
thing
with the young woman in Sydney; she didn't want to date Americans. She was
also
a blond, though that's just coincidental. Why can't Americans be more
exotic?
Why isn't Kansas glamorous?
         But more important, why is Mr. Interregnum trying to matchmake us?
Why
does he care? What does he know about me? Why is he doing *anything* he's
doing? Why does everyone want to manipulate me? Lois Lane wants to save the
world. Lex Luthor wants to save the Planet. Mr. Interregnum wants to save
the
future.
         And for reasons I'm not thought to be capable of understanding, I'm
a
key player in all of this.
         Is it any wonder that I felt exhausted? It was almost like what
that
green string thing did, but I didn't feel even a hint of another one of
those
in any form. As touchy-feely as Mr. Interregnum was (I don't usually mind
that
kind of thing but from him I do for some reason), he could have slipped
something unwelcome onto me. He has the ability (via employees) to develop
such
things or the money to buy them, just like Luthor has. But, as far as I can
see, like Luthor, he doesn't have a motive for putting one on me.
         His enjoyment of double entendres bothers me because he seems to
know
more than he should... or did some of his paranoia just rub off on me every
time he touched me? Maybe he *literally* gave me the creeps....
         The elevator didn't stop to pick up anyone all the way back down to
three, so I had the long ride to think about everything. I came to no
conclusions, but I did figure out one thing: I desperately needed someone to
talk to. It's one thing to talk to this journal and through it to you, Mom
and
Dad, but I really needed a flesh-and-blood person on the spot who could
offer
me some words of wisdom and not - thank you for this phrase, Dad - a lot of
bull.
         Mr. White was coming out of his office just as I stepped off the
elevator at almost 4:15. He spotted me, stopped before going down the ramp
in
front of his office, and said gruffly, "Welcome back."
         "Thank you, sir." There are people I truly feel comfortable
addressing
as "sir" and he is one of them.
         He gave me a long look which I felt frozen in the light of. His
eyes
warmed up though and he ordered: "Go on into my office. I'll be back in a
minute."
         I did as he asked, trudging in and almost collapsing into the first
chair I ran into.
         Mr. White returned in about five minutes, which gave me time to
compose myself and realize that this was the opportunity to ask him about my
future on the job that I'd been looking for. I stood up. "I wanted to ask
you
something, sir."

(continued)
=========================================================================
Date:         Sun, 4 Jul 1999 07:16:28 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      NEW:  My Journal, Day 8, Part 08 of 09
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

TITLE: My Journal
         Day 8, Tuesday, May 10, PART 08 of 09
         AUTHOR Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com
         RATING PG-13 (for one common swear word)

         He walked around and stood behind his desk, not looking at me. "And
I
want to talk to you, Kent, but not here." He surveyed his desk from stem to
stern and must have seen order in the chaos. He looked up at me. "I like to
talk to all my new employees after a week or so, and I like to talk where
we're
on a little more equal footing. Things are slow at the moment, so now's the
time. Go get whatever you need and meet me at the elevator."
         "Sir?"
         "We're going out for a drink, then I'll take you home and see you
in
the morning."
         "Oh. Well, tomorrow's my day off...."
         "All right. Then I'll see you Thursday. Now go get your stuff."
         I nodded and left. I didn't have anything to get, but I did go by
my
desk anyhow. On it I found two interdepartmental memos that I couldn't
decipher
(they used a strange corporate language I haven't learned yet), so I put
them
aside. More pleasing was a lightly edited printout of my article about the
disgruntled pedestrian and copies of several prints of the pictures I took
with
comments scribbled on them from my colleagues, who praised my photography
skills and thought the whole thing hilarious. My report had made their day.
I
wish I had been there to enjoy it with them.
         Cat paused at the far end of the file cabinets and asked in a
gossip-collecting tone of voice, "So what's Interregnum really like?"
         I shrugged. "Well...." What could I say? He buttered me up then
stomped on my ego behind my back?
         "Oh, you look tired...."
         "I am. It's been a loooong day."
         She was all sympathy. "It's been a long *week* for you, hasn't it?
You
hardly got any rest on Sunday...."
         "Yeah.... I'll rest tomorrow."
         "Promise?"
         I smiled, wondering if I could ask her to supervise me. But I said,
"I'll sleep in."
         "Good. And if you need anyone to talk to at any time..." she
paused,
apparently unsure of her next words and deciding on, "I'll give you my
number."
There's a notepad and pen near the front of my desk, and she jotted down her
number, tore off the note, folded it and gave it to me. Our fingertips
touched
when I took it. It was a friendly feeling but not electric, so don't read
anything into it, Mom, even though she said, "I don't give that to just
anyone...."
         I put the note inside my jacket, in my shirt pocket, and said "I
appreciate that." I almost added that I'm glad she's not blond.
         "It's *just* so we can talk. You can come over if you want, too.
I'm a
pretty good cook."
         I smiled. "I bet you are."
         She looked surprised. "No, not *that* kind of cook...." Then she
chuckled. "Well, yes, *that* kind of cook, too, but..." gently, genuinely,
"that's not the kind of cooking I mean. After all, we're professional
colleagues."
         I sighed. "Oh...."
         "I'm glad you look disappointed. Believe me, I'd love cooking with
you
someday...."
         "Heh...."
         Now she twinkled. "Has anyone warned you about your smile?"
         I dropped it, which wasn't easy. "Yes."
         "Well, take it to heart. *I* have.... But I make a great walnut
casserole and I'd love someone to taste it and spread *that* rumor around
for a
change." She explained it in a gossipy voice, "'Oh, Cat Grant has a
*domestic*
skills, too...!'"
         I guess there is a price to pay for physical beauty. Why do people
think that beautiful women have no brains and particularly no feelings to
hurt?
         I said, "I'll get my Mom's tofu gravy recipe and we'll make a date
to
explore your kitchen, after things settle down."
         "We'll do that." She lifted her hand and made a gesture. I think
she
wanted to touch my cheek but kept herself from doing so. I'm glad she did;
it
would made the sexual innuendo in our pleasant conversation too real. She
turned the gesture into a little waving pointed finger instead. "You catch
up
on your rest first," and she turned and strolled way.
         I've reported this tangential conversation because it made me feel
so
darn good.
         I met Mr. White at the elevators. We fit ourselves into the first
one
and went down to the parking level. He drives a well-kept Volvo. I wondered
if
this was the car Jimmy said last Tuesday that he had washed, but I didn't
ask.
It looked dusty with city pollution.
         We chatted about inconsequential things as he maneuvered us through
early evening traffic and headed out of the downtown area. "Did Mr.
Interregnum
give you plenty to eat?"
         I described what we were served.
         "That sounds good. I've been up to the penthouse a few times. It
has a
nice view...."
         We went to the Top Copy, a tasteful but friendly-looking lounge on
the
edge of a quiet neighborhood. Mr. White knows the barman, who shouted, "Hey,
Perry!" as we walked into the dark main room.
         "Hey, Phil. My usual and... what do you want, Clark? And if you say
water or ginger ale, I'll kick you out of here."
         I knew where I was. "A beer will be fine."
         He nodded, approving, and told Phil that he wanted the house brew
for
his friend (me) at his usual booth.
         His usual booth was at the back, away from any windows. When we
arrived, he took off his suit jacket and laid it over the back of the seat,
so
I did the same with mine over the back of the seat opposite him. As we sat
down, he pulled from his pocket a sound-nulling device like the one Mr. Lane
used in the restaurant on Sunday.
         "Recognize this?" he said as he placed it in the center of the
table
and tapped it lightly.
         "Yes, sir."
         "We may not need it, but...."
         Our drinks arrived. The house brew came in a frosty mug and I
tried it
immediately. It tasted fine and I said so.
         Mr. White smiled and sampled his own drink, which smelled like
wine.
He nodded. Good. "Clark... Do you mind if I call you Clark?"
         "Not at all, sir."
         "Well, then, outside the newsroom, in a setting like this, you can
call me Perry. But in the newsroom, until you've been there for a while...."
         It would be "Mr. White". I said, "Okay... Perry."
         "I'm glad it's hard for you to say, but it'll get easier."
         "Because... eventually I'll be there for a while?"
         "Yes, I expect so. You're a good writer, a good team player, and
you're bringing in good stories. I like that, that's what I need."
         "I'm glad."
         "Well, I admit I wasn't so sure about you a week ago. I didn't
think
you could handle it, being from a small-town paper and all."
         I nodded. I'd known that would be a hurdle, since everyone had
gone to
great pains to warn me of it.
         He said, his voice almost apologetic, "I thought you could help
someone else, and if you were in the newsroom, I could keep an eye on you.
I'm
glad you didn't find that out. From what I know of you now, you would have
bristled at the idea."
         The idea is that he hired me because he thought I might be what
Lois
Lane has been looking for. He must have planned to give me easy assignments
so
I'd feel like a reporter, but I've been doing better than he expected. "I
think
you're right, I would have been upset."
         He raised his eyebrows, coaxing me.
         "...Perry. So... would it be a good idea for me to start looking
for
an apartment? I like where I'm staying now--"
         "Oh, face it. Jimmy steered you to a flophouse."
         "Well, yes, but it's been okay. I'd like a little more space,
though,
and a little more... permanency."
         "I can understand that. It's nice to have someplace of your own to
go
home to after a hard day. Start looking. You can give my name as a
reference.
I'll tell Pat in the morning so she can speak for me if I'm not there."
         Wow, to be able to give as a reference one of the most powerful
men in
the city! I don't kid myself: Luthor and Interregnum have money and
prestige,
but Mr. White has the power of the press. "Thank you, sir."
         "You're very welcome." He sipped his wine, taking his time. "Now
it's
my turn. I want to ask you a favor."
         I smiled. "Anything... Perry," for that's what friends do, grant
favors.
         "I want you to give Lois Lane another chance."
         I'm glad I wasn't holding the beer mug for words failed me
suddenly;
my grip might have failed, too. "Ah...."
         "Anything but that, huh? Well, I understand. Believe me, whatever
you
decide to do will have *no* bearing on your job at the Planet."
         I nodded. "Oh, good...." I played with my mug, swiveling it around
so
the handle was alternatively in my right and then my left hand and back
again.
"It's just that...."
         "She's hard to get along with."
         "She's overbearing."
         "She's a spitfire."
         "She's bullheaded."
         "Uncompromising."
         "She doesn't respect me."
         "Son, she doesn't respect anyone. But it's hard not to take it
personally, I know."
         "Well, somebody should tell her that."
         "You?"
         "Me? She won't listen to me, either."
         "Oh, she's heard everything you've said, especially your last
conversation. That hit her like a ton of bricks."
         "Yeah, right." I drank beer.
         He played with his goblet of wine. "She cried about it to Alice on
the
phone for an hour last night."
         This was news. "Oh?"
         "And then gave *me* an earful for half an hour. She was all riled
up.
I don't appreciate that...."
         Riled up at me and he got the ear full. "Oh."

(continued)
=========================================================================
Date:         Sun, 4 Jul 1999 07:14:10 -0600
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From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      NEW:  My Journal, Day 8, Part 09 of 09
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TITLE: My Journal
         Day 8, Tuesday, May 10, PART 09 of 09
         AUTHOR Debby Stark, Debby@swcp.com
         RATING PG-13 (for one common swear word)

         "But I don't blame you. I think you did the right thing and so does
Alice."
         "Oh, good. I *did* do the right thing."
         "That's what we told Lois."
         "Thank you.... What did she say?"
         "She got all quiet. She does that, she gets quiet when she's angry,
after she's yelled about it a lot."
         Which seemed to mean that she didn't say anything about
apologizing to
me. Oh, well. "I'm glad she stopped yelling at you."
         "Me, too. But I still want you to give her a second chance."
         At last it was my turn to look at him. He was unruffled but looked
a
little tired. I wonder when his last vacation was? I wonder what days he
takes
off each week? Sunday, yes, probably, maybe part of Saturday, maybe parts of
other days during the week when it's quiet. He works harder than anyone
else,
and now he has to fit this Lois Lane Gang problem into his life, too....
         I thought: he must have been having a problem with Lois Lane for a
lot
longer than that. I said: "What happened, sir?"
         "Hmm?"
         "Perry.... What really happened to Lois Lane?"
         "Well.... I'm not real sure. You know, I think she's one of the
best
reporters I've ever worked with. I met her when she was just a little thing.
Well, she's still a little thing, isn't she? But she was in high school,
studying journalism, and she had an assignment to interview someone at a
newspaper, any newspaper." He chuckled and shook his head. "She picked me.
She
bluffed her way past the guards and then bullied her way through every
obstacle
in the Pit until she was standing in front of my desk, holding out her
little
ol' hand for me to shake. She introduced herself and said she was there to
interview me. Well, she wasn't on my schedule, naturally, but I gave her
that
interview, too. It was that or she'd set up camp, I could see that then. She
was not going to take 'no' for an answer."
         He smiled at the memory. "I don't think her parents were
interested in
her career choice, but I encouraged her. I've met her folks since, of
course,
and they're nice people, but I think they wanted her to go into medicine.
I'm
glad she didn't; she'd make a terrible doctor."
         "'You *will* stop slacking off and get better! Your arm isn't
broken
*that* bad!'"
         He nodded. "Exactly. Anyhow, when she entered the Metropolis
University journalism program, I gave her a part-time job in the Pit. Mostly
clerking, but that gave her a lot of experience in the real world of
newspapers. When she graduated, she came onboard full time and started
winning
awards right away. She was a runner up for a Kerth her first year, and then
won
one her second and two in her third year, last year. I think she should have
gotten a Merriweather last year, too, but her age and politics kept her out
of
the running."
         I whistled silently.
         "Then, last October she got wind of some rumors about Luthor
International." He sipped his wine again. "She considered them a birthday
present. She began following up on them and what she found sounded good to
me,
too, but we needed a lot of corroboration. She found better sources. I
talked
to them, too. They were solid. We tried to talk to Luthor, but his people
stonewalled us, and even I couldn't get in to talk to him. He didn't turn me
down personally, so I think the problem was his people. It happens in big
organizations."
         "Pardon me, but did she hear rumors about other wealthy people?"
         "Yes, yes, and we were working on stories about them, too, but
Luthor
was the big target. You know, he's done things well beyond threatening
natives
in South America. That's important, but this is Metropolis."
         I nodded.
         He continued, "If we could show Metropolis what the man's really
like,
well.... After a lot of build up, we ran the first segment... and it blew
up in
our faces. Suddenly, that very day, all our sources disappeared and new
people
stepped up to refute everything. Naturally, the Board got all upset," his
voice
was full of irony. "The paper is owned by some very wealthy people and some
of
them were on our list, too."
         He sighed. "I was disciplined. I couldn't defend myself. Lois was
put
on leave but she feared for her life - I think she was right to, she got
threats. Henderson tried to track them down but didn't come up with
anything.
She packed up and headed underground and everyone in the Pit has been
spreading
rumors about her ever since."
         He smiled, sad at first but lightening up as he explained, "I like
the
one where she became a stringer for the Barrow Times up in Alaska and she's
subsisting on whale blubber and has put on 200 pounds."
         I have sufficient imagination to see a Lois Lane in a furry parka
waddling along on the tundra among the elk. That made me smile... but I
eased
it for the question I had to ask. "Who on the board led the charge against
her?" That would tell me a great deal.
         "I don't know. It was a closed-door meeting. I've been trying to
find
out on the sly, but no one's talking even this late, after things have
calmed
down."
         "Drat...."
         He looked at me closely. "What do you know, son?"
         I looked right back at him, in just as intense a manner I think.
After
all his troubles, he has the right to know everything I know. I started
with,
"I know that Luthor says it was Interregnum, and Interregnum says it was
Luthor."
         "Uh-huh..." as though this possibility had not occurred to him. He
rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Either one could rally the support he
needed...." He stopped rubbing and gave me a quietly intense look. "I get
the
feeling there's a whole lot more you're not telling me...."
         I hid behind my beer for a moment, drinking.... While he has the
right
to know everything, was it safe for him to know it? Was that something I had
the right to decide for him?
         Carefully: "There is. I learned most of it only yesterday and
today. I
think...." This occurred to me: "My dad would say that those two are in a
pissing match and a lot of people are getting wet."
         Perry smiled. "Go on...."
         "This will sound really strange, but each man wants to use me to
spy
on the other. Each one told me he needs a friend he can trust. Each one
treats
me like an apprentice, or maybe a little brother. Each one promises to
protect
me, and I'm to keep in touch and tell each one everything."
         "They won't protect you, son...."
         "I know. Neither of them has told me his plans, but each one has
made
sure I understand that I'm an important part of them. And, sir - Perry - in
some respects they both sound a little like a certain woman I met a week
ago."
         "No wonder you're spooked."
         "That's it exactly. At least she didn't promise to protect me
though
she did treat me like a rank amateur. I think she expects that suit and all
her
plans to take care of whoever wears it."
         "That suit is something else, isn't it? It was all her idea, too.
She
won't explain how she dreamed it up or why. I don't think anyone knows."
         "Well, *I'm* the last one who will find out."
         "True, if you don't give her another chance."
         "But sir, Perry, I just don't think it will work because - and I
beg
your pardon if you don't agree - but the suit idea is totally nuts."
         "Oh, I know it is, but *she's* honest and totally dedicated to her
plan, and if anyone can pull it off, she can. Don't tell me you don't get
that
feeling about her, too...."
         I had to admit, "Yes, I guess I do. She's... passionate."
         "That's a good word for it. She really was terribly upset last
night.
I've never heard her like that. I've heard her *close* to that, when she'd
get
upset about something or another - usually about some young man giving her
trouble...."
         I blinked. "Don't look at *me*...."
         "Well..." He smiled. "You're a special case. She seems to have
trouble
with men anyhow. She has trouble with *people.* I think her problem is that
she
works too hard. Even before all this, I had to order her to take a day off
now
and then and enjoy life a little. She hated vacations. I don't think she
dated
much in high school or college, so her social skills are...." He sighed and
his
hands, open, went limp. "I don't know. I raised two *sons*, fer gosh sakes!
I
don't know anything about how to help a young woman with that kind of thing.
You'd think she'd talk to her mother or her sister, but no, she talks to
me....
It's always made me a little uncomfortable because I'm not sure how to help
her. And now this."
         "Well...." I didn't know what to say, either, and don't know why I
asked this. "What did she say last night?"
         "Oh, she just went on and on, but it boils down to her knowing
you're
the right one and her wanting you back, but she's too proud to ask you
herself,
which is what both Alice and I told her to do. I think she thinks that she
has
to crawl when walking will do." (I was nodding) "I think she fears if she
does
ask you politely, it will sound like she's begging you and it will undermine
her authority."
         Oh? "But it wouldn't. I just want to be treated like a real
person. So
far Lois Lane, Lex Luthor and Chronus Interregnum have treated me like I
can be
manipulated because I'm some hick from Smallville!"
         Perry had the courtesy not to point out the obvious.
         "Well, I *am* from Smallville, but I'm *not* a hick."
         "I know, and I think you'll be able to keep those two guys at arm's
length for now, but I'm sure you'd welcome some help, too."
         "Yes, I would." I sipped beer and reviewed his assessment. He was
leaving out the third person I wanted to keep at arm's length as well. Why?
He
wouldn't do it by accident, meaning... "*Lois Lane* can't help me."
         He looked like he was relaxing again because he was returning to a
role he likes (though I don't think he thinks of it this way): mentor and
sage.
"Clark, if there's one thing I've learned in all my years as a journalist,
it's
that you never know where you'll find your next ally, especially if they
seem
like enemies at first."
         He finished his wine in peace, so I drank the last of my beer. It
was
good but I didn't want another one.
         He summed up the evening this way: "I want you to think about it. I
hear she'll be at Bibbo's place, the Ace o'Clubs, tomorrow morning at nine.
That's a bar out in Hobbs Bay, near Pier 7. It's a clean place. She's been
toying with becoming a lounge singer there to bring in some extra money, and
he's been encouraging her. He needs a singer and she can sing. Don't let her
listen to him - *don't* let her become a lounge singer. I need her back in
my
newsroom, being what she was born to be, a reporter."
         I nodded, but I didn't know then and don't know now what I can do
about it.
         He put our drinks on his tab (I offered to pay but he just shook
his
head), and we left. In his car I realized I should tell him that Mr.
Interregnum has Dr. Platt and that the doctor hadn't been acting as though
he
had been kidnapped. Perry said, "Well, that's a relief," and that he'd pass
the
word on to Inspector Henderson on the sly and let the lawman decide what to
do
about it.
         Perry brought me home here. He took one look at the building and
said
that Alice enjoys helping people decorate homes. She'd surely get a kick
out of
helping me apartment hunt if I ask her.
         I may do that tomorrow. I'm not sure what else I'll be doing. I'll
have to sleep on it. It's almost seven. I'm sure I can get to that
Shakespeare
in the Park event, but I have the funny feeling that Sharon will be there,
too,
and I don't want to run into her and fake an interest, now that I know Mr.
Interregnum wants us together. If I had met her on my own, say, in the Daily
Planet cafeteria, and she had shown some interest, what might have happened?
         I don't want to think about that. I don't want to think about
anyone
manipulating me anymore. There's got to be some way to resolve all this, to
give everyone something else to think about so they won't fixate on me.
         I'll let you know if I come up with a better plan than I have now.
I'm
glad I've got tomorrow off.

[to be continued]

[Your real author thanks my proofers and creative consultants Pat H., Jeanne
P., Sandy McD., and Steve H.]
=========================================================================
Date:         Sun, 4 Jul 1999 18:56:17 +0100
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
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From:         Yvonne Connell <yconnell@UKF.NET>
Subject:      Re: My Journal, Day 4, Introduction
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Dear Clark,

> Gosh, you wrote on Sunday and here it is Wednesday evening already! My
life
> has
> been busy lately, thus I've had to put some things aside...

No problem, I'm not in any hurry :)

Can't help wondering if we still need the 'buffer zone', but here it is
again anyway:
>
> >> >> >> >> >>
> >> >> >> >> >> >> >S
> >> >> >> >> >> >> >P
> >> >> >> >> >> >> >O
> >> >> >> >> >> >> >I
> >> >> >> >> >> >> >L
> >> >> >> >> >> >> >E
> >> >> >> >> >> >> >R
> >> >> >> >> >> >> >
> >> >> >> >> >> >> >S
> >> >> >> >> >> >> >P
> >> >> >> >> >> >> >A
> >> >> >> >> >> >> >C
> >> >> >> >> >> >> >E
> >> >> >> >> >> >> >
> >> >> >> >

It's developing into quite a pretty pattern.  Do you think it would make
nice wallpaper? ;)

> Really? Next time I see her I'll try some jokes I remember from the books
I
> collected when I was a kid. I went through a joke-book-phase when I was
about
> eleven. Some of those jokes were real killers, too! :) Mom always laughed
at
> them.

Parents do that, Clark ;)

> >Phew!  I can put the body armour away again.
>
> So that's what it was, eh?

Well, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

> >Oh, Clark. <Yvonne tries hard not to laugh>.  Some black leather here
and
> >there is fine
>
> "here and there" where?

Anywhere as long as it's not everywhere.

> >- personally, I think you'd look great in a black leather jacket
>
> Me? You think so?

Definitely.  I think quite a lot of my friends would agree with me, too.
Save up those pennies, Clark, and buy one when you can - it'll look even
better that the SK Suit, believe me.  Talking of which, it strikes me that
the suit is quite intimidating - I'd be careful when you're rescuing little
children in it, if you ever decide to wear it again, that is.  I think for
an all-purpose super-hero suit, primary colours are good ;)

> I don't go to dubious movies (at least not since "Dumb and Dumber").  Do
you
> suppose black leather wears like black rubber? I saw some dark-haired guy
> wearing a rubber jacket and slacks in a magazine one time. He looked
> hot--physically hot, I mean, not cool (or kewl).

My point precisely.  Go for cool, not hot :)

> >
> >I told you before, my sources cannot be revealed ;)
>
> I hope your source isn't name "m,a,r,t,h,a"

No comment.

> There is a site but I'm a bit wary about visiting it, so I can't in good
> conscious pass along the url, sorry. Later maybe, after the New Hope goes
>up.

Clark, what happened to your vocabulary?  Or perhaps you weren't conscious
that your 'good conscience' let you down ;)  You didn't go near any of that
nasty green stuff again, did you?

> >Hey!  You got your own email address at last.
>
> I've had it for years. You mean you don't have a copy of my resume?
>Everyone
> else seems to. Odd.

Sorry, yes, I have got a copy.  In fact, since I work in the media here in
the UK, I could pass it along to a few people if you fancy a change of
scenery?  We publish some farming journals, and then of course there's my
favourite title: Tunnels and Tunnelling ;)  I'm sure you could bring a
whole new dimension to the scintillating world of underground drilling.

> >Could never understand why
> >you were using that Debby person's address.  Who is she, anyway?
>
> Have you heard about the new move "The Muse"? I understand the reviews
aren't
> good but the idea's the right one :)

Nope, haven't heard of it.  But then new releases take a long time to make
it over the Atlantic.  Are you saying that this Debby with her own email
address is, in fact, your Muse?  Talk about personification!  Does she even
do your typing for you?

You sound like the kind of guy who would have had an invisible friend as a
kid.  Am I right?

Your Friend
(yconnell@ukf.net)
(who was idly wondering the other day how Clark manages to cut his
toe-nails without burning the carpet...)
=========================================================================
Date:         Sun, 4 Jul 1999 16:19:06 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
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From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      About My Journal, Day 8, Tuesday, the site version
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

I just went in to put a revised (less typos) version of this on my site
only to find that the version I put on this morning wasn't there. I don't
know what happened. I hope this newer version is there *now* (4:18pm,
mountain time). If not, I'll have a word with my provider.

Debby
Debby@swcp.com
ftp://ftp.swcp.com/pub/users/dstark/Stories/MyJournal
=========================================================================
Date:         Mon, 5 Jul 1999 18:36:15 +0100
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
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From:         Wendy Richards <ida18@HRM.KEELE.AC.UK>
Subject:      Re: NEW STORY: Big Boys Do Fly II - Part 5/5
In-Reply-To:  <199907011908.UAA17190@radius.connectfree.net>
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On Thu, 1 Jul 1999 19:34:00 +0100 Yvonne Connell <yconnell@UKF.NET>
wrote:

> Any idea of any ETA for Part III?
>

Sorry for delay in replying - been away moving house!

Thanks again for the very nice comments about this story.

Well, Part III is finished and is currently with my beta-editor (who
I'm hoping is around and able to work on it, because I really
appreciate her input on this series). As soon as I have it back, I'll
post it here!

Wendy
----------------------
Wendy Richards
w.m.richards@hrm.keele.ac.uk
=========================================================================
Date:         Mon, 5 Jul 1999 10:47:40 -0700
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From:         Cindy <chaste@CYBERHOTLINE.COM>
Subject:      Clinton Apartment Building
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Does anybody know how many floors and or units Clarks apartment building
on Clinton had?
=========================================================================
Date:         Mon, 5 Jul 1999 15:07:30 EDT
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From:         No Name Available <MsLoisette@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: Clinton Apartment Building
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In a message dated 99-07-05 13:50:15 EDT, you write:

<< Does anybody know how many floors and or units Clarks apartment building
 on Clinton had?
  >>

Do you mean Clark's actual apartment building or Clark's apartment where
other people stayed including him?

If you are talking about Clark's apartment, itself, I believe it had two
floors.  I know those stairs that he has in his building led up to
something.
 I believe it was a second floor that no one in the show venture up there!
LOL!  Then again, i could be wrong, but that is my outlook on the whole
situation.

Alexis ;-.)
=========================================================================
Date:         Mon, 5 Jul 1999 16:44:36 -0400
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From:         Peace <peace9@SERVTECH.COM>
Subject:      Re: Peace's Email
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From: Celia Carvalho <carvalho@LEXMARK.COM>
Subject: Peace's Email

>Oh, rats...!
>Someone just wrote asking for Peace's email address. But I deleted the
email
>before I could answer...! Sorry everyone, for cluttering your mail box...

Well, this is obviously an indication that I need to catch up on reading the
list
and post a little more often myself, huh?

>Anyway, this will reach the person in question (I hope!).

Well, somebody reached him with my new eddress...

>I don't know what's her email, but if you go and visit her web page, I'm
sure
>you'll find it there: www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Set/7137

....but thanks, Celia, for taking the time to plug my webpage!  :)

And thanks, Ray, for taking the time to search out the eddress and send
me your comments (which were much appreciated, as I indicated in my reply),
instead of just skipping it!  I say in the "author's notes" of my stories
that writers
thrive on feedback, and it's absolutely true.  (/me makes a mental note to
make
sure my eddress is updated everywhere my stories are housed.)

My wedding plans are taking up a tremendous amount of my time (you do
know that I'm marrying Kal-El, don't you?  Kal-El from #loiscla, that is <g>
My own private Superman... :::happy sigh:::), but I do try to answer my
email
as promptly as possible.

Oh! and the whole point of writing this post was to say -
peace9@servtech.com!

Peace
on her way out the door to
take care of a bridesmaid's
dress.... so many details...
so little time!!!
=========================================================================
Date:         Tue, 6 Jul 1999 00:02:27 -0500
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Mandy Crustner <mandyc@LCC.NET>
Subject:      Need Editor
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

I need someone who is good with grammar to contact me about editing my
latest story.  It'll be just basic grammar and looking for any plot holes.
If you think you'd like to do this, please email me privately at
mandyc@lcc.net .  Since I'm writing to a list of people, I'll just take the
first one who contacts me.  Just to let you know, as the story stands it is
228K and about 97 pages.  Thanks in advance for your help.

Mandy
=========================================================================
Date:         Tue, 6 Jul 1999 04:18:02 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      Happy Birthday, Darth Sandy!
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

For all you've written, for how creative you've been, for how inspiring you
are, I wish you a happy birthday!

Your fan,

Debby
=========================================================================
Date:         Tue, 6 Jul 1999 04:48:35 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      Re: My Journal, Day 4, Introduction
In-Reply-To:  <199907042056.VAA27610@radius.connectfree.net>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

At 06:56 PM 07/04/1999 +0100, you wrote:
>Dear Clark,
>
>> Gosh, you wrote on Sunday and here it is Wednesday evening already! My
life
>> has been busy lately, thus I've had to put some things aside...
>
>No problem, I'm not in any hurry :)

I am. It's incredible. Fortunately, most of it's fun.

>Can't help wondering if we still need the 'buffer zone', but here it is
>again anyway:

I find it... very artistic, but if you wish to remove it, that's okay with
me.

>> >> >> >> >> >>
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >S
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >P
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >O
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >I
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >L
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >E
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >R
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >S
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >P
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >A
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >C
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >E
>> >> >> >> >> >> >> >
>> >> >> >> >
>
>It's developing into quite a pretty pattern.  Do you think it would make
>nice wallpaper? ;)

I think I'd rather have emoticons.

>> Really? Next time I see her I'll try some jokes I remember from the books
I
>> collected when I was a kid. I went through a joke-book-phase when I was
about
>> eleven. Some of those jokes were real killers, too! :) Mom always
laughed at
>> them.

>Parents do that, Clark ;)

But she *really* laughed! Dad even cracked a smile now and then, even
though he
thought the books (paperbacks) were a waste of my hard-earned allowance. I
got
them at a flea market, so they weren't expensive at all, no more than 25
cents
each.

>> >Phew!  I can put the body armour away again.
>>
>> So that's what it was, eh?
>
>Well, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

Can I quote you on that?

>> >Oh, Clark. <Yvonne tries hard not to laugh>.  Some black leather here
and
>> >there is fine

>> "here and there" where?

>Anywhere as long as it's not everywhere.

Is that part of your story and can I quote you on that, too?

>> >- personally, I think you'd look great in a black leather jacket

>> Me? You think so?
>
>Definitely.  I think quite a lot of my friends would agree with me, too.

You're going to find a picture of me somewhere and use a black crayon to
alter
it? I don't think I want to see that.

>Save up those pennies, Clark, and buy one when you can -

I think it'll take a lot more than pennies.

>it'll look even better that the SK Suit, believe me.

That's not hard. A tutu and a Mickey Mouse t-shirt would look better than
that
suit, or that's what I'm thinking lately.

>Talking of which, it strikes me that
>the suit is quite intimidating - I'd be careful when you're rescuing little
>children in it, if you ever decide to wear it again, that is.  I think for
>an all-purpose super-hero suit, primary colours are good ;)

What? "all-purpose super-hero suit, primary colours"? The only "super-hero"
I
know about, and he may be fiction, is that fellow in Gotham City, and he's
said
to wear gray and blue, and his disguise is in the form of a bat! I bet the
first thing people think is "Is he rabid?" No, thanks, I'm sticking with the
newspaper biz. It's a lot more exciting and I can be myself there.

>> I don't go to dubious movies (at least not since "Dumb and Dumber").  Do
you
>> suppose black leather wears like black rubber? I saw some dark-haired guy
>> wearing a rubber jacket and slacks in a magazine one time. He looked
>> hot--physically hot, I mean, not cool (or kewl).
>
>My point precisely.  Go for cool, not hot :)

You know, I need more proof that this is a good idea. I need to see *you*
wearing all this leather before I make any decisions about it. If it will
make
one person look okay, it's bound to make another. You. Send pictures.

>> >I told you before, my sources cannot be revealed ;)
>>
>> I hope your source isn't name "m,a,r,t,h,a"
>
>No comment.

I've asked her. She said she doesn't know anyone who uses your ISP and she
certainly wouldn't talk to *anyone* about such personal matters anyhow. As
Dad
said (after dinner when he was feeling sleepy), "Whoever it is is funnin'
you,
son."

>> There is a site but I'm a bit wary about visiting it, so I can't in good
>> conscious pass along the url, sorry. Later maybe, after the New Hope goes
up.
>
>Clark, what happened to your vocabulary?  Or perhaps you weren't conscious
>that your 'good conscience' let you down ;)  You didn't go near any of that
>nasty green stuff again, did you?

I'm not perfect. If you were an astute observer, you'd know that. Also,
between
"good" and "conscious" I had to rush out to help someone and then call in
the
story. Pick up a copy of tomorrows paper for the details.

>> >Hey!  You got your own email address at last.
>>
>> I've had it for years. You mean you don't have a copy of my resume?
Everyone
>> else seems to. Odd.
>
>Sorry, yes, I have got a copy.  In fact, since I work in the media here in
>the UK, I could pass it along to a few people if you fancy a change of
>scenery?

No, thanks. I have contacts there who would hire me in a minute, but I don't
want to work in small towns like London, Birmingham or Glasgow, though
Portmerion looks tempting sometimes.

>We publish some farming journals,

Dad would be interested, especially in any organic farming ones.

>and then of course there's my
>favourite title: Tunnels and Tunnelling ;)  I'm sure you could bring a
>whole new dimension to the scintillating world of underground drilling.

I'm not going to touch *that* one!

>> >Could never understand why
>> >you were using that Debby person's address.  Who is she, anyway?
>>
>> Have you heard about the new mov[i]e "The Muse"? I understand the reviews
aren't
>> good but the idea's the right one :)
>
>Nope, haven't heard of it.  But then new releases take a long time to make
>it over the Atlantic.

It's new: Albert Brooks and Sharon Stone (as the Muse)

>Are you saying that this Debby with her own email
>address is, in fact, your Muse?  Talk about personification!  Does she even
>do your typing for you?

That explains some of the typos, doesn't it?

>You sound like the kind of guy who would have had an invisible friend as a
>kid.  Am I right?

No, I never needed an invisible friend because I had tons of two- and
four-legged friends, friends with skin (Lana, Pete, everyone on the
surrounding
farms), fur (the dogs, cats and dad's horses) and/or feathers (those ducks).
And I had guppies, so I should add "fins" to tha list.

If invisible friends filled *your* youth, which I'm beginning to strongly
suspect, they did help you develop a real creative touch, didn't they?

>Your Friend
>(yconnell@ukf.net)
>(who was idly wondering the other day how Clark manages to cut his
>toe-nails without burning the carpet...)

I'm not so careless. I also suspect you may be a friend of a man named
Chronus
Interregnum.

CK

--You can't hold on to spontaneity!
  You cannot pretend to be spontaneous.
         --Chungliang Al Huang
=========================================================================
Date:         Tue, 6 Jul 1999 05:14:49 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      Re: My Journal, Day 6 & 7 - combo
In-Reply-To:  <db51a9e9.24ae159f@aol.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

At 09:16 AM 07/02/1999 -0400, you wrote:
>In a message dated 6/29/99 3:27:19 AM !!!First Boot!!!, Aerm1@AOL.COM
writes:
>
><<
> I think it's just fine that Debby is dribbling out the Journal. [snip] >>

>Okay, here's my take.  I'm thrilled that Debbie has it all finished.
>However, doling it over a period of time is not only okay, it's pretty much
>vital to the plot line of this one.  It's a day by day journal and we are
>supposedly reading it as it is written, i.e. each episode reports the
>previous day's experiences.

Exactly! :) Let me tell you, though, it makes figuring out the correct verb
tense hard sometimes, since many things reported happened as recently as an
hour from their being recorded. It's not someone looking back at an incident
that happened years ago with lots of things happening since. CK can only
make
educated guesses about what will happen, too.

>It would lose some of the flavor if we read it
>all at once.  I say this in spite of liking to know how things come out
>before I read them (Charlotte-notorius for reading endings before she will
>even start a piece of fiction)

I had you in mind when I did this... ;D

>By the way Debbie

Yes, Carlotta?

>liking the week by week reading will not preclude me from
>rereading the whole thing numerous times as I do for something really good.

I charge $0.25 per read, you know. It's there in the small print.

>There are always things one gets out of each later reading that one didn't
>see before.  That, after all is why we read the great classics of
literature
>time after time.

Me, I rarely reread anything because I don't have time and there's so much.
These days, I hardly read hard copy anyhow, great literature or insipid
magazines.

>Might have to do with how we ourselves change over time but
>I'm not sure.  What I am sure of is the this one is among the best Lois and
>Clark stories I've ever read so far.

Thanks! At this rate I might put it up for a Kerth since I think that once
it's
done, it's done, no need to go back and tweek a bit.

>Along with Dawning.  Please don't abandon that one.

ah...

>Another note:
>
>Debbie, I love the way you turned everything from the premier completely
>upside down.  A great idea especially since you still keep the essential
>character the same.  This is more than elseworlds, its an inverted
universe.

The pilot was a great beginning for the series, so it's very inspirational.

>> Albuquerque, New Mexico, which you'll never find ;)
>
>> Debby
> Debby@swcp.com
> somewhere over the rainbow...
>  >>

>Wrong, Debbie, My daughter Diana lived there for three years and still owns
a
>house near the University of Mexico campus that she rents out. (She's in
>Denver now)

Silly girl! She'll have to come back since monsoon season has started and
it's
cooler here than most places east of the Rockies :)

>Better get going or I'll lead the hordes.

Bring water. The rain we're getting is great but we measure it in 10ths of
inches and our snow pack last winter was almost nonexistent. And watch out
for
the tarantulas.

>Just kidding, but I have to say My Journal gets better with each episode.

Three more to come: one long, one short, one *very* long.

>Day 7
>
>Another Wow episode.  Hopefully not spoiling anything for others, let me
just
>say it's about time Clark got angry.

As I think he got angry at the wrong times in the show and didn't get angry
when he was justified in being angry (or he let Lois get all worked up for
him), I like to explore that in him.

>Great read in and of itself.  Great
>characterization, not the Clark we're used to

No, the show didn't have much time for character building, IMO. I'm
wondering
what the series would have been like if characters had stepped out of
scenes to
talk to us. I like how it was done on the recent TNT movie "Pirates of
Silicon
Valley" about Bill Gates and Steve Jobs. Brilliant work.

>perhaps but one which it's
>great to know.  And not even like the Clark in Dawning who was completely
>different and equally fascinating.

All our Clarks and Loises are fascinating people :)

>Note: both your Loises and Clarks are fascinating different and yet
>fundamently the same as the TV portrayals.

The TV gave us good basic characters. Fanfic writers are expanding the
possibilities :D

>LOL
>
>Charlotte

Thanks for your comments!

Debby :)
Debby@swcp.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Tue, 6 Jul 1999 06:50:21 -0500
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Mandy <mandyc@LCC.NET>
Subject:      OT (way, way OT):  Email Program Crash :(
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

This has become sort of a habit, I suppose, but like Karen, I felt there
was no other way to get to everyone I need to talk to.  Early this morning,
my lovely email program (Outlook Express 5) crashed!  Of course, with it's
crash, it took all of my stored email, my unreplied to email and everything
else imaginable with it -- including every piece of feedback I'd ever
received about my fanfic :( .  Needless to say, I'm really upset right now.
 But, I guess I should have known to back up everything, I know, I'm a
dope, I just hadn't gotten around to it yet.  Such as it is, I've
downloaded a new email client and am trying to set it up.  If you were
expecting an email from me, well, I'm afraid you won't be getting one right
now.  So, if you're someone I've corresponded with before, please drop me a
line so that I can add you to the new addy book.  Maybe someday I'll figure
out how to get back into my program, but for now, I think I'm going to bed.

Sorry to everyone this doesn't concern, thanks for your time.

Mandy
=========================================================================
Date:         Tue, 6 Jul 1999 10:09:45 -0500
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         "Mr. D8a" <James.Tull@EMRSN.COM>
Subject:      Information Please
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"

>From MR. D8A's work email

In the L&C was New York, NY ever mentioned?

The reason I as is this:
H. G. Wells in Big Boys Do Fly said that the universe of Connor and Laura
had been tampered with extensively.  Does this mean that Metropolis is
in-fact New York with a different name?  It would sorta fit.  Staten Island
looks an awful lot like the map that was shown in several of the episodes.

MR. D8A  A.K.A.  James

Fourth of July was great!  Hope our Canadian friends enjoyed Canada Day!

Proverbs 3:5-6
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own
understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your
path.
Please visit and explore my house at:
http://www.geocities.com/area51/starship/7859
mailto:mr_d8a@yahoo.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Tue, 6 Jul 1999 12:25:15 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         "Ann E. McBride" <Aerm1@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: Information Please
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

In a message dated 7/6/99 11:15:12 AM Eastern Daylight Time,
James.Tull@EMRSN.COM writes:

<< In the L&C was New York, NY ever mentioned?
  >>
Yes, it was.  In Man of Steel Bars, when Metropolis is experiencing the heat
wave, Lois (I think) mentions that it is cold in New York while it is 90 or
so in Metropolis.  So, Metropolis is not New York City.  On the map they
show
when Clark flies to China for take out food in the premier, it looks like
it's a little south of New York, maybe New Jersey or Delaware-ish.

Ann
=========================================================================
Date:         Tue, 6 Jul 1999 11:33:53 -0500
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         "Mr. D8a" <James.Tull@EMRSN.COM>
Subject:      Re: Information Please
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"

Thanks Ann.
Actually my lovely wife and I have postulated that in the universes that
have a Metropolis there is an extra land mass just off the coast of New
Jersey called New Troy.
James

-----Original Message-----
From: Ann E. McBride [mailto:Aerm1@AOL.COM]
Sent: Tuesday, July 06, 1999 11:25 AM
To: LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU
Subject: Re: Information Please

In a message dated 7/6/99 11:15:12 AM Eastern Daylight Time,
James.Tull@EMRSN.COM writes:

<< In the L&C was New York, NY ever mentioned?
  >>
Yes, it was.  In Man of Steel Bars, when Metropolis is experiencing the heat
wave, Lois (I think) mentions that it is cold in New York while it is 90 or
so in Metropolis.  So, Metropolis is not New York City.  On the map they
show
when Clark flies to China for take out food in the premier, it looks like
it's a little south of New York, maybe New Jersey or Delaware-ish.

Ann
=========================================================================
Date:         Tue, 6 Jul 1999 11:49:29 -0500
Reply-To:     truitt22@flash.net
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         timothy truitt <truitt22@FLASH.NET>
Organization: tnt technical services
Subject:      Re: Need Editor
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Mandy,  I am a  Land C fanfic reader and I am in a lull right now.  I'll
edit
your new story.  I'm a U. of Texas grad so I think I can handle your
grammer.
Also,  off the topic, when are you going to finish some of your stories on
your
site that say they are "coming"?
Merry
truitt22@flash.net

Mandy Crustner wrote:

> I need someone who is good with grammar to contact me about editing my
> latest story.  It'll be just basic grammar and looking for any plot holes.
> If you think you'd like to do this, please email me privately at
> mandyc@lcc.net .  Since I'm writing to a list of people, I'll just take
the
> first one who contacts me.  Just to let you know, as the story stands it
is
> 228K and about 97 pages.  Thanks in advance for your help.
>
> Mandy
=========================================================================
Date:         Tue, 6 Jul 1999 16:35:23 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Charlotte Fisler <Cdfisler@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: Information Please
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

I've always thought so, but in LnC during the heat wave Lois says something
like it 20 degrees in New York and ...."

Considering DC was headquarter in NY and still is, it stands to reason some
of the characteristics of Metropolis would be based on NYC, but I think they
(the Superman writers as well as the show writers wanted it to be a separate
East Coast city.

Charlotte - who grew up in the North East Bronx
=========================================================================
Date:         Tue, 6 Jul 1999 19:40:39 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Sandy McDermin <smcdermin@EROLS.COM>
Subject:      Re: Happy Birthday, Darth Sandy!
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Debby wrote:
>
> For all you've written, for how creative you've been, for how inspiring
you
> are, I wish you a happy birthday!
>
> Your fan,
>
> Debby

Your Empressness ... thank you for your kind regards.  Your friendship
is as valued as it is steadfast.

Your servant,

Sandra of Darth (By the way, Darth is a very hot place these days. Ow!
Watch that pitchfork, Congressman Delay!)
smcdermin@erols.com

"The woman who tells her age is either too young to have anything to
lose or too old to have anything to gain." -- Chinese Proverb.
=========================================================================
Date:         Tue, 6 Jul 1999 20:01:48 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         No Name Available <Larus2407@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: Information Please
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

In a message dated 07/06/1999 11:15:12 AM Eastern Daylight Time,
James.Tull@EMRSN.COM writes:

<< Staten Island
 looks an awful lot like the map that was shown in several of the episodes.
>>

Really? I noticed reseemblances to Manhattan, myself.

Wasn't there once some mention of temperatures in winter--when Lex was
making
Metropolis hot? They mentioned several other cities and I think NY might
have
been one.

--Laurie (a NYer but not from NYC)
=========================================================================
Date:         Tue, 6 Jul 1999 19:23:55 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      Re: Happy Birthday, Darth Sandy!
In-Reply-To:  <378293F7.7E6FB04B@erols.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

At 07:40 PM 07/06/1999 -0400, you wrote:
>Debby wrote:
>>
>> For all you've written, for how creative you've been, for how inspiring
you
>> are, I wish you a happy birthday!
>>
>> Your fan,
>>
>> Debby
>
>Your Empressness ... thank you for your kind regards.  Your friendship
>is as valued as it is steadfast.

Just think how great it would be if I gave you a raise! :D

>Your servant,

But you don't need one, you selfless hera, you!

>Sandra of Darth (By the way, Darth is a very hot place these days. Ow!
>Watch that pitchfork, Congressman Delay!)
>smcdermin@erols.com

Come to the light, high-altitude, slightly humid, monsoon side, Darth Sandy!

Debby
Debby@swcp.com
in no position to come up with a quote from
the Tao Te Ching at the moment :)
=========================================================================
Date:         Tue, 6 Jul 1999 20:10:38 -0500
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Diyan Smith <zimri@HOTMAIL.COM>
Subject:      Re: My Journal, Day 6 & 7 - combo
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

>from Charlotte:
> >liking the week by week reading will not preclude me from
> >rereading the whole thing numerous times as I do for something really
good.
>
and Debby replied:
> I charge $0.25 per read, you know. It's there in the small print.
>
it must be *really* small print: it doesn't even show up on my computer
screen.  I'd be happy to send you  $0.25 per read, but I'd send it to you
the same way I sent the big $$$.  (For those of you who are wondering: no,
she won't sent the rest of "My Journal" for big virtual $$$.)
=========================================================================
Date:         Wed, 7 Jul 1999 02:18:42 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         No Name Available <MsLoisette@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Question
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Hi everyone!

I just had a quick question for those of you who have been writing fanfic
forever, or for others of you who have just started their first fanfic! <G>

I fall into the I just started my first LnC fanfic this weekend category!  I
have 4 pages written so far! YAY!!!

Anyways, I was wondering that once you jump on the lnc fanfic bandwagon, do
you find phrases or subject matter for your story hitting you during the
weirdest times?  If I am busy I will keep the phrase in my head until I can
write down, or I will drop whatever I am doing and rush to my notebook and
write it down!  I am just curious about this since it just started for me.

I have also noticed that the love scenes are easier to write then the
regular
scenes! ;)  Do any of you find this to be true for you?

The next question, I have, has to to do with the fanfic i am working on.
There is going to be at least one brief flashback in my story.. so i was
wondering if any of you out there could tell me if that machine that the
Newtrich sisters used on Sman in "'UW" had a name and if it did, what was
it?

Thanks a lot for all of your help! <G>

Alexis ;-.)
{who was very frustrated but enjoyed her first time... working on fanfic..
ok i know that whole phrase sounds really bad... but who cares! ;) }
=========================================================================
Date:         Wed, 7 Jul 1999 02:30:23 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         No Name Available <MsLoisette@AOL.COM>
Subject:      subscribing
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

I have someone on AOL who is interested in lnc fanfic, so i was wondering if
someone could send me the info on how she can subscribe to this list!

Thanks.
Alexis ;-.)
=========================================================================
Date:         Wed, 7 Jul 1999 08:42:37 -0400
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Phillip Atcliffe <Phillip.Atcliffe@UWE.AC.UK>
Subject:      Re: Question
In-Reply-To:  <272ce8c6.24b44b42@aol.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; CHARSET=US-ASCII

On Wed, 7 Jul 1999 02:18:42 EDT No Name Available (But we call her
Alexis) <MsLoisette@AOL.COM> wrote:

> I just had a quick question for those of you who have been writing
fanfic forever, or for others of you who have just started their first
fanfic! <G>

> I fall into the "I just started my first LnC fanfic this weekend"
category!  I have 4 pages written so far! YAY!!! <

Welcome to the madhouse, but be warned: as I tell the authors I edit
for the archive, this stuff can be addictive! <g>

> Anyways, I was wondering that once you jump on the lnc fanfic
bandwagon, do you find phrases or subject matter for your story hitting
you during the weirdest times? <

_Do_ I? There are times when I go do something else just so an
inspiration particle will hit my cerebellum. Actually, I find I get
some of my best ideas riding my motorcycle to and from work. Of course,
on occasion -- like traffic jams -- I want to take the bike up and
_over_ the obstruction (oh, wait... flying bikes -- wrong show! <g>).

> If I am busy I will keep the phrase in my head until I can write it
down, or I will drop whatever I am doing and rush to my notebook and
write it down!  I am just curious about this since it just started for
me. <

That's it! I'm sorry, Alexis, but you now have an incurable case of
Writer's Disease. There is no cure anyway; the only "treatment" is to
write, which makes the disease/addiction worse even as it alleviates
(temporarily) the symptoms. Oh well, you're definitely not alone in
this <mad cackles and gibbers from the background -- the inmates are
getting restless>.

> The next question, I have, has to to do with the fanfic i am working
on. There is going to be at least one brief flashback in my story.. so
i was wondering if any of you out there could tell me if that machine
that the Newtrich sisters used on Sman in "'UW" had a name and if it
did, what was it? <

I don't think so. Ultra-Ego Lucille was too busy abusing her sister to
care about such things, and Nell had probably learned the hard way not
to bother Polyester Woman with such "trivia". The closest we got to a
name was Dr Klein describing it as a laser that worked by refracting (I
think) its energy through that chunk of red K; in an unfinished fanfic,
I describe it as a "red kryptonite laser" (as in ruby laser, neon
laser, etc.) -- feel free to use that if you absolutely _have_ to give
the thing a name.

A tangent: having refused to watch any of OW other than the last five
minutes (to see Lois deck Deter), I don't know whether Herkimer
Johnson's machine had a name or not. I've seen it called the
VibroWhammy, but was that given on screen or is it merely (?) a term
>from fanfic?

Phil, who needs to treat his own case of Writer's Disease. Back to
work, boy!
------------------------------------------------------------
"I think... I think I am!     |        I think _I_ am:
 Therefore I am... I think?"  |         Phil Atcliffe
   -- The Moody Blues         | (Phillip.Atcliffe@uwe.ac.uk)
=========================================================================
Date:         Wed, 7 Jul 1999 03:59:42 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         The Zoomway <Zoomway@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: Question
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

In a message dated 7/7/99 2:44:43 AM Central Daylight Time,
Phillip.Atcliffe@UWE.AC.UK writes:

<< A tangent: having refused to watch any of OW other than the last five
 minutes (to see Lois deck Deter), I don't know whether Herkimer
 Johnson's machine had a name or not. I've seen it called the
 VibroWhammy, but was that given on screen or is it merely (?) a term
 from fanfic? >>

It is the Vibro Whammy.  His brother Rufus, AKA Bad Brain Johnson (Don't Tug
on Superman's Cape) had invented the Electro Whammy (and was done in by it
thanks to Tim and Amber Lake ;)

Zoomway@aol.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Wed, 7 Jul 1999 10:19:44 +0100
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         LabRat <labrat@UKF.NET>
Subject:      Re: Question
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Alexis wrote:
>
>> Anyways, I was wondering that once you jump on the lnc fanfic
>bandwagon, do you find phrases or subject matter for your story hitting
>you during the weirdest times? <

And Phil wrote:
>
>_Do_ I? There are times when I go do something else just so an
>inspiration particle will hit my cerebellum. Actually, I find I get
>some of my best ideas riding my motorcycle to and from work.

Now that I no longer work (bus home used to do the trick marvellously) I
find that mundane household tasks like washing dishes spark off the brain.
If I'm stuck with a particular story, I find relaxing in a nice hot bath
usually gets the brain switched over into autopilot enough to rouse the Muse
(always leave the pc on so that you can rush out and get the ideas down
before they slip away <G>). Or drying my hair is another.

Anything really, that is so boring it lets the brain loose to wander
restlessly. :)

But, frustratingly, my brain seems to find most pleasure in suddenly
wandering over the unfinished stories in my hd and finding lots of ways to
work on them - reams and reams of dialogue usually start to unspool in my
mind - about two seconds before I fall asleep at night. Always keep a
notepad and pen by the side of the bed, Alexis! ;)

LabRat :)
Doc. Klein's LabRat
labrat@ukf.net

"Shut up," he explained.  --- Ring Lardner, The Young Immigrants.

'We can't all be heroes because someone has to sit on the curb and clap as
they go by.' --- Will Rogers.
=========================================================================
Date:         Wed, 7 Jul 1999 08:36:12 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         "Ann E. McBride" <Aerm1@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: Question
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

In a message dated 7/7/99 3:44:43 AM Eastern Daylight Time,
Phillip.Atcliffe@UWE.AC.UK writes:

<< I describe it as a "red kryptonite laser" (as in ruby laser, neon
 laser, etc.) -- feel free to use that if you absolutely _have_ to give
 the thing a name.

 A tangent: having refused to watch any of OW other than the last five
 minutes (to see Lois deck Deter), I don't know whether Herkimer
 Johnson's machine had a name or not. I've seen it called the
 VibroWhammy, but was that given on screen or is it merely (?) a term
 from fanfic? >>

Great minds must truly think alike.  In Ultrawoman at the very beginning,
when Lucille is having Nell tell her why the plan will work, Nell says, "...
and we have a red kryptonite laser."

In OW, the Herkimer Johnson's machine is called the VibroWhammy on screen.

Hope this helps.

Ann
=========================================================================
Date:         Wed, 9 Jun 1999 08:02:44 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Mark Gedak <gedakm@SK.SYMPATICO.CA>
Subject:      unsubscribe
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MARK GEDAK

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=========================================================================
Date:         Wed, 7 Jul 1999 12:16:18 CDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Jessi Mounts <jessi914@HOTMAIL.COM>
Subject:      Re: Information Please
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; format=flowed

I remember reading somewhere that the two teenage boys who created Superman
actually lived in Canada (thought that was funny, considering "truth,
justice, and the American way") and they intended for Metropolis to be a
version of Toronto.

But then, I don't remember where or when I read this, so who know?  I might
have just dreamed it up.  Does anyone know if I know what I'm talking about?

Jessi
jessi914@hotmail.com

_______________________________________________________________
Get Free Email and Do More On The Web. Visit http://www.msn.com
=========================================================================
Date:         Wed, 7 Jul 1999 10:15:06 -0700
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Nancy Smith <deimos1@EARTHLINK.NET>
Subject:      Re: OT (way, way OT):  Email Program Crash :(
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

Mandy wrote:

> This has become sort of a habit, I suppose, but like Karen, I felt there
> was no other way to get to everyone I need to talk to.  Early this
morning,
> my lovely email program (Outlook Express 5) crashed!  Of course, with it's
> crash, it took all of my stored email, my unreplied to email and
everything
> else imaginable with it -- including every piece of feedback I'd ever
> received about my fanfic :( .  Needless to say, I'm really upset right
now.
>  But, I guess I should have known to back up everything, I know, I'm a
> dope, I just hadn't gotten around to it yet.  Such as it is, I've
> downloaded a new email client and am trying to set it up.  If you were
> expecting an email from me, well, I'm afraid you won't be getting one
right
> now.  So, if you're someone I've corresponded with before, please drop me
a
> line so that I can add you to the new addy book.  Maybe someday I'll
figure
> out how to get back into my program, but for now, I think I'm going to
bed.
>
> Sorry to everyone this doesn't concern, thanks for your time.
>
> Mandy

  Hi, Mandy, as you can see, my address is at the top of the page if you
need
to get me.

I have another question, not specifically to Mandy.  I've been on this list
for
some time, but I can't find how to get on the other one (LOISCLA)  Could
somebody out there let me know where to subscribe?

Thanks,

Nan Smith
=========================================================================
Date:         Wed, 7 Jul 1999 13:58:27 EST
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         optical delusion of consciousness <kubitc@KENYON.EDU>
Subject:      Re: Information Please

<< I remember reading somewhere that the two teenage boys who created
Superman
actually lived in Canada (thought that was funny, considering "truth,
justice, and the American way") and they intended for Metropolis to be a
version of Toronto.

But then, I don't remember where or when I read this, so who know?  I might
have just dreamed it up.  Does anyone know if I know what I'm talking
about?>>

The two teenaged boys who created Superman (Shuster and Siegel sp?) actually
lived in Cleveland while they created the comic. (This was when they were in
high school.) One was originally from Canada, so maybe that's where you got
the
Canada reference from. I have read in books on Superman history that
Metropolis
was modeled off of Cleveland.

-Christy (a proud Clevelander ;)
 kubitc@kenyon.edu
=========================================================================
Date:         Wed, 7 Jul 1999 13:40:57 -0500
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Mandy <mandyc@LCC.NET>
Subject:      Subscription info for Loiscla (was Re: OT (way,
              way OT): Email Program Crash :()
In-Reply-To:  <37838B14.8F7687CF@earthlink.net>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

<snip>

>I have another question, not specifically to Mandy.  I've been on this
list for
>some time, but I can't find how to get on the other one (LOISCLA)  Could
>somebody out there let me know where to subscribe?

Zoom's got the info for the new list on her web site.  You can reach it
here:
http://www.acreativetouch.simplenet.com/zoomway/lnc_elist.htm !  Hope that
helps!

Mandy :)
Who's pleased to report that Microsoft wrote her back with a way to fix the
email program :)
=========================================================================
Date:         Wed, 7 Jul 1999 17:32:04 -0500
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Melissa Day Hall <mhall@SOUND.NET>
Subject:      Re: Question
In-Reply-To:  <005501bec85a$5b0022e0$219001d4@default>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

Alexis wrote:
>>
>>> Anyways, I was wondering that once you jump on the lnc fanfic
>>bandwagon, do you find phrases or subject matter for your story hitting
>>you during the weirdest times? <

And Phil wrote:
>>
>>_Do_ I? There are times when I go do something else just so an
>>inspiration particle will hit my cerebellum. Actually, I find I get
>>some of my best ideas riding my motorcycle to and from work.

And then LabRat expounded:
>Now that I no longer work (bus home used to do the trick marvellously) I
>find that mundane household tasks like washing dishes spark off the brain.
>If I'm stuck with a particular story, I find relaxing in a nice hot bath
>usually gets the brain switched over into autopilot enough to rouse the
Muse
>(always leave the pc on so that you can rush out and get the ideas down
>before they slip away <G>). Or drying my hair is another.
>
>Anything really, that is so boring it lets the brain loose to wander
>restlessly. :)

As the people in CA can now attest :), I've got a leetle green notebook
practically stapled to my hip. I use it to scribble down story ideas,
notes, reminders, dialogue, etc. I've become fairly good at driving and
scribbling at the same time- my drive to work and back has very little
traffic, and it affords me the time to talk to my characters, and let them
tell me how the story is going to go. (Or not, sometimes the darn things
are downright obstinate)

Misha
(Who needs a new notebook soon, I can't tell if this one will fall apart
first or be filled.)
=========================================================================
Date:         Wed, 7 Jul 1999 06:21:13 -0600
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         Debby <Debby@SWCP.COM>
Subject:      Re: Question
In-Reply-To:  <272ce8c6.24b44b42@aol.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

At 02:18 AM 07/07/1999 -0400, you wrote:

>I fall into the I just started my first LnC fanfic this weekend category!
I
>have 4 pages written so far! YAY!!!

Muchos congratulations :)

>Anyways, I was wondering that once you jump on the lnc fanfic bandwagon, do
>you find phrases or subject matter for your story hitting you during the
>weirdest times?

Definitely. Little things that can become big things.

>If I am busy I will keep the phrase in my head until I can
>write down, or I will drop whatever I am doing and rush to my notebook and
>write it down!  I am just curious about this since it just started for me.

Yep.

>I have also noticed that the love scenes are easier to write then the
regular
>scenes! ;)  Do any of you find this to be true for you?

I haven't written many love scenes, but when I do I try not to make them at
all
trite/hackneyed/ho-hum, etc. I suppose I should practice more writing them.

>The next question, I have, has to to do with the fanfic i am working on.
>There is going to be at least one brief flashback in my story.. so i was
>wondering if any of you out there could tell me if that machine that the
>Newtrich sisters used on Sman in "'UW" had a name and if it did, what was
it?

My script calls it "a futuristic looking video camera, almost gun-like in
appearance. It is a laser" It has a "breach" into which the kryptonite is
put.
They continue to call it "laser" throughout.

>Thanks a lot for all of your help! <G>

You're welcome.

>Alexis ;-.)
>{who was very frustrated but enjoyed her first time... working on fanfic..
>ok i know that whole phrase sounds really bad... but who cares! ;) }

I consider the whole phrase a draft :)

Debby
Debby@swcp.com
has scripts...
write for details
=========================================================================
Date:         Wed, 7 Jul 1999 21:48:01 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         No Name Available <MsLoisette@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Re: Question
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

In a message dated 99-07-07 03:44:43 EDT, you write:

<< Of course,
 on occasion -- like traffic jams -- I want to take the bike up and
 _over_ the obstruction (oh, wait... flying bikes -- wrong show! <g>). >>

LOL Phil!  I am sorry but I am laughing even harder if you knew what kind of
music I am listening to while i read that comment.  If you are familiar with
the Beatles.. i was listening to "Northern Song," and the music is going all
over the place which was very appropiate for a flying bike! <G>

Thanks for your imput! <G>

PS. i like your.. we call her Alexis.. hee hee.. some people call me Lois
too! ;)

Alexis ;-.)

HAPPY 59TH BIRTHDAY TO RINGO STARR! YAY!!!
=========================================================================
Date:         Wed, 7 Jul 1999 23:27:57 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         No Name Available <MsLoisette@AOL.COM>
Subject:      subscribing
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

A fellow FoLC on AOL wants to subscribe to this particular list.. but I am
not sure how she goes about it...  Could any of you fine fellow fanfic
writers out there, let me know?

Thanks.
Alexis ;-.)
{person who is also known as "No Name Available" }
=========================================================================
Date:         Thu, 8 Jul 1999 00:03:47 EDT
Reply-To:     "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
Sender:       "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic"
              <LOISCLA-GENERAL-L@LISTSERV.INDIANA.EDU>
From:         No Name Available <MsLoisette@AOL.COM>
Subject:      NKerth info
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

I know this may be a little premature.. But i was wondering if any of you
people in charge of it could let me know when the ceremony will be held?  My
friend Sharon who was nominated, YAY!! Wants to know since she is going off
to St Louis this weekend to meet dean.. {lucky girl.. ;p} and after that she
is on vacation until the end of july!

Thanks.
Alexis ;-.)