Review by Booklist Review
Spiner, who came to fame as Data on Star Trek: The Next Generation, has delivered an entertaining "mem-noir" of what happens when a disturbing package shows up in an unsuspecting actor's trailer. It has Hollywood detectives, a love triangle with two dangerous women, and the mystery of a fan whose affection crossed the line into obsession. At the same time, Spiner blends behind-the-scenes details of working in television and charming observations about his castmates like Patrick Stewart, Jonathan Frakes, and LeVar Burton. He includes stories of his upbringing and early acting career before his star turn on Star Trek and how that fame pops up in both helpful and awkward ways. His self-deprecating humor about his place in the Hollywood hierarchy and the line between the character and the qualities the actor brings to the characters they portray are amusing and informative. Part of the fun is that it is left up to the reader to wonder where the memoir leaves off and the noir picks up. Spiner also captures a vivid snapshot of Hollywood in the '90s, with the parties, the characters who work on the periphery of the television industry, recreational drug use, and even trips to the video store. A fun ride for superfans.
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Early in this diverting memoir-mystery hybrid set in 1991 from Spiner, who played the white-faced, yellow-eyed android, Lieutenant Commander Data, on Star Trek: The Next Generation, the actor receives a box containing a severed pig's penis, along with a note from a crazy fan who claims she's Data's daughter, Lal. Other letters and packages containing odd tokens arrive. Aided by the sexy Jones twins--Cindy Lou, an FBI investigator, and Candy Lou, a private security consultant--Spiner tries to discover who Lal is before she can make good on her threats to kill him. Meanwhile, he reflects on experiences in his difficult childhood. Spiner's castmates play supporting roles, including Patrick Stewart and his mellifluous voice, kind and obliging Jonathan Frakes, and thoughtful LeVar Burton. A surprise visit to the set from Ronald Reagan adds to the fun. Spiner's debut is an homage to fans: where would celebrities be without them? Trekkies and Hollywood history buffs will be delighted. Agent: Albert Lee, UTA. (Oct.)
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Review by Kirkus Book Review
Spiner combines his life as an actor on Star Trek: The Next Generation with the tale of a murderously obsessive fan. In the early 1990s, when The Next Generation is at its peak, Brent Spiner is living the life he'd always dreamed of. He plays Cmdr. Data, and aside from having to use kerosene to remove the gold makeup that turns him into his android character every day, things are going great. Then he gets a severed pig penis in the mail. The delusional fan continues to send disturbing gifts and threatens to kill Brent and other cast members. At first, Brent is wary, but he's more concerned with the show, his relationships, and the odd detective assigned to his case (who has a TNG script to plug. Hey, this is Hollywood, baby!). Then razor blades and bullets get involved, and so does the FBI. Brent soon is tangled up with a sexy FBI agent and her identical twin sister, who's also his bodyguard; has run-ins with fans ranging from sincere to downright bizarre; and has to worry about making one of the most beloved shows on television while not actually dying. Panic attacks, nightmares, and sometimes hilarity ensue. Author Spiner calls his debut a "mem-noir," because he weaves together Hollywood and Trekkie trivia, his experiences with real-life TNG cast and crew, his own traumatic childhood with an abusive stepfather, and an obsessive fan scenario that's not entirely made up, either. The story is quite accessible to non-Trekkies while never being overexplainy in ways fans would find tedious. Because it's all told in a campy, dime-store--noir voice, one can never be sure what's true and what's fiction. Because Spiner is the victim, not the detective, he doesn't get to break down doors or solve the crime, which makes the book less satisfying than it might have been. Spiner also sticks with the noir penchant for defining female characters by their looks, which is unfortunate. Though the writing is pithy and humorous, the book feels like it's directed at the stereotypical middle-aged, cis, male fans of the show even though TNG itself appeals to a much wider audience. Fans of Star Trek, dime-store detective novels, or behind-the-scenes Hollywood tales will enjoy this quick read. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
