What a shame that you so narrowly missed being able to publish an official QL novel.
Though I have no idea what your writing is like I am quite sure you would have far surpassed Ashley McConnel. If not for her decent leap concepts I would not read her, even so it's a struggle to stand her writing. Her character portrayals can be off, she's inaccurate (the one who does most of the novels that have Sam's soul leaping instead of his body) and at times inconsistent. It's kind of a wonder she was published. Anyway sorry for that mini rant.
Well, the only thing I can say about Ashely McConnell is that she did inspire me to attempt writing my own Quantum Leap fanfiction, and I had certainly grown as a writer because of it. Like I said, I did stick with the mental Leaping aspect, but aside from the initial story of the series, you'll quickly see that it doesn't much matter.
So with the exception of the story you were wishing to submit as a novel, all of your fanfictions are a series? What are they about?
Thinking of Sam as a firefighter makes me think of Scott's film Blue Smoke in which he is a firefigher/arsine investigator. It's one of my favorites I highly recommend it.
When I was five years old my kindergarten teacher asked the class to draw a picture of what we'd like to be when we grew up. The boys all wanted to be police officers or astronauts. The girls all wanted to be teachers or nurses. I said I wanted to be a fireman. The kids laughed and a boy said, "You can't be a fireman! You're a girl!" and my teacher said, "She can be anything she wants to be."
So, I have always been fascinated with firefighters. They are true heroes and I always thought it would be fitting having Sam Leap into one. I liked the idea of dealing with his fear of "what if I have to actually fight a fire?" Having always wished for a full length Quantum Leap episode where Sam was a firefighter made Blue Smoke a dream come true for me.
Hm, perhaps I should send you few "oh boys" to give you an idea of my writing and what my stories are about...
Leap to the Future
Wednesday, April 29, 1992
By: Suzanne Smiley
Conceptualized: 10/1992, Written: 9/13/2012-
“Jonathan, you’re next.”
He was staring up at a blackboard. He looked down and realized he was seated in a small student desk, similar to ones he remembered from grade school. As his eyes came into focus and he took in his surroundings, it became clear that he was in a classroom.
“Jonathan Ramsey…”
Colorful posters and artwork lined the walls. The “Hang in There” kitten clinging to the tree branch. A “Reading is Fundamental” poster with smiling kids holding up books.
“Earth to Jonathan!”
The sound of children laughing? He looked away from the wall and realized that seated in rows of desks, identical to his, were at least twenty other kids, who looked to be about middle school age… And they were all staring at him. His focus shifted to the front of the classroom, where a young female teacher, with long blonde hair, was standing up from her desk chair, staring at him as well.
“M—me?” he asked the teacher, aiming a finger at his chest.
The teacher smirked. “I don’t have any other students in my class named Jonathan.”
The kids laughed again.
“Uhhh… I’m sorry.” He raised his eyebrows innocently. “Did you want something?”
“Yes. I want you to come up here and present your report to the class.”
He looked down at his desk and sighed, “Ohhh, boy.”
Sam Beckett always hated this part. After four years of this, he was certain that God or Fate or Time or Whatever it was that kept Leaping him around through time, definitely had a sense of humor. Why else would he always Leap in at the most inappropriate moments?
“You did complete the assignment, didn’t you, Jonathan?”
“Uhhh… umm…” Sam scrambled through the items on the desk in front of him and pulled out a green paper portfolio filled with loose-leaf paper. “Yeah! I—found it.” Sam laughed, mostly in relief, and tried to smile, holding up the portfolio to show the teacher. “It—it’s right here!” He then muttered under his breath, “I hope…”
“Well?” The teacher raised an eyebrow at him.
“Uh, right.” Sam squeezed out of his desk and reluctantly made his way to the front of the class. He was well aware that all eyes in the room where focused on him. He walked up to the teacher, looked at her, then at the desk, and carefully placed the report on top of the stack that was already there. He then turned and quickly headed back to his seat. There. Handled that one, he thought to himself.
“What are you doing?” the teacher asked.
Sam froze and clamped his eyes shut. Why can’t it ever be easy? He turned, meeting her perplexed expression. “I’m uhh…turning in my report?”
“Aren’t you going to read it first?”
The kids laughed again.
“Oh.” Sam nodded and chucked. “Right.” He sighed and returned to the teacher’s desk and retrieved his report. Sam turned to the class, opened the portfolio to the first page, and began to read. “‘Time Travel’—Time travel?” He stared at the words on the page in surprise. “I mean, ‘Time Travel. By Jonathan Ramsey.’” Sam grinned. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as bad as he thought. He turned the next page and began to read Jonathan’s handwritten scrawl.
“‘Time travel is a topic that has captured our imaginations for as long as we can remember. From H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine, to the Dr. Who television series to Back to the Future and even the Terminator movies. But those are just works of fiction. Time travel isn’t really possible…’” Sam lifted his head and smiled. “‘Or is it?’”
QUANTUM LEAP
REMEMBER ALWAYS
CHAPTER ONE
TUESDAY, JULY 2, 1985
He found himself staring at the drain of a ceramic sink. As sensation entered his body, he became aware that something tingly and minty filled his mouth. He opened his mouth and foamy toothpaste poured down his chin. “Ugh.” He spat the remaining toothpaste into the sink. It was then that he noticed the toothbrush clenched in his right hand and a bath towel wrapped around his waist. Judging by the positioning of the towel and the sound of his voice, he knew he was male this time, thank God. He slowly raised his head and caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
His eyes went wide. The freshly clean-shaven face was younger than he remembered, maybe by about ten or fifteen years. The brown hair was long, disheveled, and wet from a recent shower. A distinctive lock of white hair hung over his left eye. Toothpaste dripped off his chin and his jaw dropped. He was staring at his own reflection. Chills ran down his spine. He had Leaped into himself.
Sam Beckett swallowed hard and whispered, “Oh…boy…”
Sam could hardly believe his eyes—his very own brilliant green eyes. Putting the toothbrush down, he reached for a hand towel, hanging beside the sink, and wiped the toothpaste from his mouth. He stared at himself in the mirror again and laughed. He leaned in closer to his reflection, running his fingers through his damp hair, and a hand over his smooth cheeks and chin. He looked so young! Sam began grinning widely. He felt lightheaded and giddy.
There was no awkward Leap in this time. No making a fool of himself as he fumbled around strangers trying to fit in until he knew what he was there for. He was left alone, in familiar surroundings, right in front of a mirror, able to fully take in what had happened to him.
It was as if God or Fate or Time or Whatever it was that was Leaping him around was finally saying, “Surprise! Oh, and you’re welcome.” He may not be home, but this was the closest he had ever come to it and it felt good—damn good.
He opened the bathroom door and stepped out into a hallway. Across the hall from the bathroom was a small bedroom, he remembered. He slowly walked to the end of the hallway into a large room with a modest kitchen on the right and a living room on the left. Daylight coming through the sliding glass door in the living room lit the area well.
Sam wandered through the living room, with an astonished grin, looking at things that belonged to him. Books on the shelves that he had read. His old reclining easy chair positioned in front of his 15-inch color TV set. Photos on the walls of his own family members. His guitar, in its case, propped up against the wall beside the TV.
He was back in his old apartment in Albuquerque, New Mexico. That meant that he was still working at Project Star Bright, his place of employment before Quantum Leap. And that meant that it had to be somewhere during the five year period between 1984 and 1989.
Sam headed for the sliding glass door, at the far end of the living room, and pulled back the vertical blinds. Opening the door, he stepped out onto his balcony overlooking the courtyard of the apartment complex.
From the long slanted shadows formed by the low sun in the sky, he was able to determine that it was morning. And it was warm out, even at this early hour. It had to be summer. Sam leaned his arms on the railing, taking in the view, and grinned.
