L.R. Bowen

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Fan
Name: L.R. Bowen
Alias(es): Laura Bowen, LR Bowen
Type:
Fandoms: Star Trek: VOY
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L.R. Bowen is a fanwriter.

Fans Comments

Some of the first Voyager fanfic I ever read was by LR Bowen, which spoiled me something fierce. It's a high standard to live up to. Most writers just can't touch her for emotional content, and her lyrical, descriptive passages simply sing with passion. She's one of the few writers I'll actually drop everything and read right online. [1]

I'd place Laura Bowen as one of our very best High Formula writers. She's absolutely magnificent, and completely in control of the forms in combination with the characters. Cardassian Mask is structurally a Bodice Ripper-but it's a brilliantly done bodice ripper. Bowen knows how to blend the Formula with the necessities of the characters, play every change on the drama/melodrama, and come out the other end having given the reader a Grand Nantucket Sleigh-Ride without ever missing a step, or betraying her characters or her readers. She can take a Formula tub/voyeur scene, and make it

delightful by never betraying a single one of your expectations, but still startling you, dressing it up fresh, using wit, and the glitter of clever presentation and razzle-dazzle to hold you riveted. Your mind may know damned well where it's all going-but the show is so provocative and well done you're just as happy to follow along for the ride. (For what it's worth, Bowen can turn out one hell of a "lit" story, too. The Lily-White Boys Her Paris/Lorcano slash, which I've gone and blanked the title of, is one of my all time favorites of hers, and is a "lit" piece, not a Formula piece.) But Laura has to be magnificent when she does het-if she isn't every cliché will stand out like a sore thumb. She's great evidence that formula need not be evil, though. It merely has to be brilliantly done as formula. [2]

L.R. Bowen: from "What is Slash?" (1998)

An amusing tale of my first exposure to slash:

The year: 1977. My very first Star Trek convention, as a young teen. It was in the Civic Auditorium in San Francisco, and I went with my even younger sister. I had on my best approximation of a Trek costume--a pink velour shirt of my mother's, black Levi's, and a pair of vinyl boots I got from the thrift store. No, we didn't have a lot of money to spend on things like that. We got in the door, got our tickets and programs, and looked around wide-eyed, trying to decide what to do first. So much to choose from! Art show, panels, uncut original series shows, guest appearances...this con had the entire TOS cast with the exception of Shatner and Nimoy, plus Mark Lenard (R.I.P. November 1996), Arlene Martel, Robert Heinlein, Jacqueline Lichtenberg... I didn't care about them, because Bones was my main man! I was there for De Kelley. So here I stood, innocent and excited...and I felt a tickle on my leg. Faint, light--just a twinge, perhaps. I shifted my stance. There it was again. I looked down.

Hello!

Here is a fellow, early twenties perhaps, mustached and trim, kneeling on the floor beside me and...getting acquainted with my $2.95 vinyl boots. They were brown and crinkly and had big block heels of the kind that are so much in style again. He liked them VERY much, obviously. And he had knelt down so quietly and stroked them so tenderly that I had barely noticed the touch.

YUUCCKK!!

My sister, twelve years old, and I stared at each other for a moment, having vaguely heard of such things, but certainly never having come into personal contact with them or their practitioners in public. Then we grabbed each other by the hand and bolted. Well, that was totally gross and weird, but he's gone now...let's look at our programs again, shall we? Oh, there's the art show...and the dealer's tables...and a wee, faint tickle on my leg.

Great Bird have mercy, he was at it again. And a real pro, sneaking up like that without a sound. I had the feeling he'd done this before. If I had been a few years older, I would have mashed his sneaky little fingers under my blocky vinyl heel. As it was, we bolted again and didn't see him after that. But you'll forgive me if my adrenaline was a little high, and my tolerance for out-of-the-way sexual attractions a little low.

Ah, the dealer's room. Zines? Oh, yes, stories written by fans. Huh, I bet they're pretty bad. I've never seen any, but I've written some pretty dreadful stuff myself and never shown it to anyone...I was curious. I picked up something from a rack...

YUUCCKK!!

Kirk and Spock doing WHAT!? GROSS!

And that was it, for slash and for all fan fiction alike, until 1995... [3]

Example Works

References