In the dark ages, before streaming…

This might come as a tremendous shock to younger readers, but once upon a time, when we Gen Xers were kids (sometime after the Yucatan impact killed the other dinosaurs), we weren’t able to simply stream nearly any movie or TV show we wanted on our phones, tablets or laptops at will. In the late 1970s, videotapes were slowly entering our collective reality, but the machines to play them on were still prohibitively expensive; typically around $1,000 a pop in 1970s dollars (not to mention the steep cost of videocassettes; worse than eggs today). Kids of my generation had all kinds of Rube Goldberg methods for reliving our favorites movies/shows, such as using a clunky audiotape recorder to tape a movie or TV show’s audio track right from a TV’s single, monaural speaker (pausing the recorder during commercials, of course). Audiotaping was my preferred method for capturing my favorites TV shows at that time, such as “Battlestar Galactica,” “Mork & Mindy,” and, of course, “Star Trek.”

At that naive age of 11 or 12, I naturally assumed those audiotapes I so carefully recorded from TV broadcasts would be my ‘forever’ copies which I would keep well into adulthood; never assuming I’d someday be able to afford a VCR, let alone any unforeseen archiving media such as laserdiscs, DVDs or Blu-Rays. Certainly no one in those days could’ve imagined the ridiculous ease of today’s media-free online streaming.

One afternoon, while perusing a favorite newsstand/bookstore in a nearby city, I came across a copy of a Star Trek Fotonovel; a pocket-sized graphic novel filled with frame grabs from an episode of Star Trek. In this case, from the first season episode, “The Galileo 7.” Needless to say, it was love at first sight. There were 12 in the series, and I collected as many of those little buggers as I (and my Trekkie kid sister) could get our mitts on. Even better, I would run the audiotapes I’d made off the air as I flipped through the books, which let the episodes unfold before me with sight and sound. Short of owning collectible 8mm film clips (my family didn’t own a projector) or then-unaffordable videocassettes, this was as innovative as it got in those low-tech, frisbee-tossing days of my childhood.

The Bantam and Ballantine Fotonovel series included theatrically-released movies in this format as well; with titles such as “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” (1978), “Grease” (1978), “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” (1977) and others. Pocket Books had its own competing Photostory line, which included the pilot movies/episodes of TV’s “Battlestar Galactica” (1978), “Mork & Mindy” (1978), “Buck Rogers in the 25th Century” (1979) and larger softback editions of theatrical films, such as “ALIEN” (1979) and “Outland” (1981). I’d read somewhere once that these books were also popular in countries such as Germany and India (though I can’t verify that, of course). The Photostories from Pocket were arguably slicker than the slightly cheesier Fotonovels; with cleaner layouts, and fewer editorial liberties taken with dialogue. Apples and oranges to me, of course. I loved both runs of books. It was really cool having these paperback movies & TV shows in my book bag whenever I wanted.

Later, in the mid-1990s, as I sometimes struggled to keep food on my table and an apartment roof over my head, I occasionally hit some snags with my finances. I do remember one particularly hard-up and shortsighted moment of weakness where I took about four or five of my beloved Star Trek Fotonovels down to a local comic book store to sell for a bit of cash to pay a stupid utility bill. Giving two pints of blood would’ve been (literally) easier. Those fotonovels of mine were near-mint, and I did not get a decent price for them at the time. But I took the cash out of desperation. As my life stabilized later on, I really regretted that decision.

“My library, thousands of books!”

Sometimes, those items you really loved once come back into your life somehow. Recently, during a Valentine’s Day outing with my wife, we went to a large, three-story antiques store downtown, and while perusing books and physical media (pretty much the only things I still collect these days), I came across seven original print Star Trek fotonovels (circa 1977-1978), and I felt an overpowering urge to just flip through them again–as eagerly as when I was 12 years old. I was also pleasantly surprised to see they were relatively low-priced ($15 a pop), which was more or less affordable. On an overwhelming nostalgic impulse and at my wife’s urging, I grabbed them. My wife also found a really cute vintage orange coat, so it was a win-win day for both of us.

After I took them home, I realized I might still have a few of these fotonovels in my garage or storage space somewhere, though being uncertain, I’m just glad I grabbed them; better safe than sorry. The seven-book set included “The Trouble with Tribbles,” “Metamorphosis,” “The Galileo Seven” (my first fotonovel!), “A Piece of the Action,” “The Devil in the Dark,” “Day of the Dove,” and “The Deadly Years.” It’s too bad it wasn’t the complete set of all 12, though I bought back several titles I knew I’d sold back in the 1990s, including “Trouble with Tribbles,” “Devil in the Dark” and “Metamorphosis,” so hey, it was lucky enough, right? One of the employees at the store who appeared roughly my age looked at my haul and said something like, “Ah, buying those old Star Trek DVDs, huh?” I said these little gems were books, not DVDs, and that I was buying back a few cherished bits from my wonder years. Surprisingly, he’d never heard of fotonovels (maybe he was younger than me), but he understood.

“Strangely compelling, isn’t it? To step through there…and lose oneself in another world.”

The first fotonovel’s covers featured William Shatner’s Kirk and Leonard Nimoy’s Spock from one of their best outings together (that’s saying a lot, too). “City on the Edge of Forever” (Vol. 1) took some liberties with dialogue here and there, but was faithful enough to the screenplay. I believe this book might still be in the hands of my ex-Trekkie kid sister, though we often shared these when we were younger. Some in the series came with glossaries of Star Trek terms for new Trekkies or younger readers (for whom these fotonovels were aimed, no doubt), as well as trivia and occasional interviews with guest stars, too. These were more than just episode screencaps with captions; they came with bonus features, as well.

Sometimes actual spoken dialogue would be expressed in thought bubbles, while other lines of dialogue or thoughts were created. The earlier Star Trek Fotonovels took more liberties with that sort of thing than later editions. “Where No Man Has Gone Before” (Vol. 2) is a piece of Trek history, and it was nice being able to leisurely compare the many subtle aesthetic and casting changes between this second Star Trek pilot (after “The Cage”) with the series that followed; the older uniforms, Spock’s cruder makeup, the less colorful Enterprise sets, etc. With a fotonovel, you could examine these little differences without wearing out your old videotapes or your VCR’s pause button (VCRs are another wholly irrelevant technology these days…).

“The Trouble with Tribbles” (Vol. 3) was a vibrant book chronicling a very popular episode of classic Star Trek. I think this was another one that my sister owned, but which I’d borrow just as often as she’d borrow any one of mine. I liked that the back cover of this fotonovel featured a rare scene highlighting Uhura (Nichelle Nichols) and Chekov (Walter Koenig), as Uhura buys the first of the titular tribbles from the affable-but-shady trader, Cyrano Jones, played by guest-star Stanley Adams (the actor/writer would go on to co-write “The Mark of Gideon” in season 3). While I enjoyed “Trouble with Tribbles” very much, I do think its status as a beloved classic might be a tad overrated. That said, I really loved its “Back to the Future 2”-style sequel; Deep Space Nine’s 1996 episode “Trials and Tribble-ations.” How I would’ve loved to have seen a full-color fotonovel of that episode…

Following “A Taste of Armageddon,” which got the fotonovel treatment in Vol. 4, the episode “Metamorphosis” (Vol. 5) was a romantic and pivotal episode that introduced the character of ‘Zefram Cochrane’ into Star Trek canon. Cochrane (Glenn Corbett) was the famed ‘future’ inventor of warp drive. As a dying old man, Cochrane was lost in space and prepared to die; only to be rescued and rejuvenated by a loving energy cloud being he calls “the Companion.” The fotonovel featured an interview with actress Elinor Donahue (“Father Knows Best”), who plays “Commissioner Hedford” in the episode. I remember the actress revealing how she lost weight during the shoot, causing her costume to droop a bit in front (“droopitis”), requiring Donahue to use her character’s head scarf to cover herself up. Extras like this made these old fotonovels really special and worth collecting.

Note: Cochrane was also seen in the 1996 Next Gen feature film, “Star Trek: First Contact” (1996), where he was played by actor James Cromwell.

“All Our Yesterdays” (Vol. 6) was one of only two episodes from Star Trek’s third season to get fotonovelized; the other being the Klingon-centered, “Day of the Dove.” “All Our Yesterdays” is to Spock (Leonard Nimoy) what “City on the Edge of Forever” was to Captain Kirk, as Spock and McCoy (DeForest Kelley) are trapped in an ice age of the doomed planet Sarpeidon, where the newly-emotional Vulcan (experiencing unforeseen side-effects from time-travel) begins an ill-fated relationship with a beautiful exile named Zarabeth (Mariette Hartley). In addition to this lively story’s romance, time-travel, librarian clones (“Mr. A-to-Z”), and icy vistas, we also see Kirk jailed for sorcery in a near-exact parallel to Old Earth’s witch-hunting hysteria, which plagued Europe and North America from the 15th through the 18th centuries. I enjoyed seeing this sentimental favorite of mine getting a deserved fotonovel spotlight in those days.

Finding “The Galileo 7” (Vol. 7) at that favorite newsstand of mine at age 12 began my little fotonovel trek (forgive the pun). Leafing through this book, I loved its color-blended descriptive captions, with the “Captain’s Log” narrations rendered in ‘1970s-futuristic’ block-font (a font often used in 1970s TV shows such as “Logan’s Run” and “Buck Rogers in the 25th Century”). I also enjoyed seeing phaser beams, spaceship miniatures, optical FX shots and other (pre-remastered) eye candy from the series captured in crisp, 35mm detail on eye-catching frame blowups. While “Galileo 7” is a good-enough episode (an admittedly-thin remake of 1965’s “Flight of the Phoenix”), my love for this particular fotonovel came more from the novelty of discovering a glorious, full-color episode of Star Trek that I could carry to school in my book bag! That was really neat. It was arguably the beginning of a quest that would later evolve into my obsession with physical media (LPs, laserdiscs, DVDs, et al). I still enjoy the idea of owning a tangible piece of entertainment. Of course, these days, kids could just stream whatever they want (in full HD) via their phones or tablets, but in 1978? It was still special.

After volumes 9 (“Devil in the Dark”), 10 (“Day of the Dove”) and 11 (“The Deadly Years”), the 12-volume run of Star Trek TOS fotonovels ended with the season 2 premiere, “Amok Time,” which saw a hormone-ravaged Spock forced to return to his home planet of Vulcan to marry his longtime fiancée, T’Pring (Arlene Martel); much to the disappointment of Nurse Chapel (Majel Barrett-Roddenberry) and the physical detriment of Kirk. The captain honorably, yet unwittingly volunteers to fight his first officer to the death, after a complex challenge is made to Spock’s marriage. The bright, crimson-lit soundstages depicting planet Vulcan, as well as the imaginative costumes of the Vulcan wedding party extras made for another terrific fotonovel.

That final paperback closed out the 12-volume Star Trek fotonovel series in 1978, which was just around the time VCRs (VHS & Betamax) along with other home video gear (laserdisc, CED discs) were quickly gaining ground with consumers (though my own family wouldn’t own one until well into the 1980s). Owning a prerecorded VHS episode of Star Trek would’ve been prohibitively expensive back in 1978 (around $60 or so), and compared to modern Blu-Rays or HD-streaming, it’d look like crap, too. But the fotonovels were sourced from film prints of the episodes, not videotapes; meaning each panel’s detail and grain looked almost as good as an original master. And at only $1.95-$2.25 a pop (affordable on a kid’s allowance in those days), they were a much better value, in my opinion.

“Curious. I’m seeing images of planets, moons, stars, whole galaxies all stored here…”

In 1980, Pocket Books released its photostory of 1979’s “Star Trek: The Motion Picture,” which I remember finding at my favorite newsstand only a few months after I first saw the film. The first two Star Trek movies came into being at the very beginning of the home video revolution, which saw VCRs becoming increasingly affordable (roughly half or less of what they were only a few years earlier). This shift towards affordable home-based video entertainment, which included higher-end video formats like laserdisc, rendered fotonovels and photostories passé almost overnight.

“Star Trek: The Motion Picture” (TMP) the Photostory, edited by Richard J. Anobile (who did the same for “Battlestar Galactica,” “ALIEN,” and others), was a high-quality paperback. Using lots of widescreen images presented in well-timed color, the photostory’s images were a lot brighter and crisper than I remembered from the grainy, murkier film prints shown at my local cinema only a few months earlier. Lots of theaters used dimmer projector bulbs to save money in those pre-THX days, so I remembered TMP as a dim, darker movie. With that in mind, TMP’s photostory was a revelation. When I bought my copy, it felt as if I were finally seeing the movie as it was meant to be seen; albeit a lot smaller, of course. To fit into a slimmer pocketback, a few scenes were edited out, such as the traumatic transporter malfunction and Spock’s meeting with Kirk and McCoy just before the Enterprise‘s interception of V’ger. I didn’t mind, of course. The TMP photostory was a near-last hurrah for Star Trek photo-novels before home video’s rise made them little more than quaint, discarded curios.

“This is damn peculiar.”

A few months after the June 1982 release of “Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan” (TWOK) Pocket books released its final Star Trek photostory with that film’s release, and it was a massive drop in quality from the earlier fotonovels and photostories. It’s bad enough one of the most colorful Star Trek movies was reprinted using cheap black & white photos, but there’s a portion of the book where a chunk of scenes are inexcusably inserted out of order. This was terrible work. One of the best Star Trek movies got the absolute shabbiest of photo-novel releases.

As beautiful as TMP’s photostory was, TWOK’s photostory was its ‘mirror-universe’ opposite (too bad we never got a fotonovel of “Mirror, Mirror”). My 15 year old self hated to fork over $3.50 of my hard-earned allowance money for that godawful book, but even in those days, I was a completist. It’s the same impulse that would compel me to buy “Star Trek Into Darkness” on Blu-Ray some 30 years later (even though I hated that film with every fiber of my being). It’s not surprising the decision to release such an inferior book came around the same time TWOK became one of the first ‘affordable’ prerecorded videotapes and videodiscs, with Paramount Home Video pricing the movie at $29.99; a record-low for a new home video release in 1983. A black & white photostory could never compete with a relatively inexpensive, full-color stereo videocassette of the movie itself. So be it.

It was the end of an era.

Return to Tomorrow

Currently, IDW owns the license to release new Star Trek graphic novels, some of which are based on the Kelvinverse Star Trek timeline, which began with the 2009 soft-reboot “Star Trek.” In 2016, after the release of 2016’s “Star Trek Beyond,” IDW did a genuine solid for old-school fans like myself by releasing a large, softback photo-novel release of Star Trek’s original 1964 pilot of “The Cage.”

Adapted by John Byrne (“Hellboy,” “X-Men”), Gene Roddenberry’s “The Cage” was released as an IDW “New Visions Special,” employing more traditional, bubble-style comics captioning and lettering, with beautiful, high-quality color images from the episode. As a one-off release, it was a lovely ode to those long gone days of fotonovels and photostories. I’ve seen “The Cage” New Visions Special many times at conventions and bookstores, and I need to add this to my own photo-novel ‘Menagerie’ someday.

Seeing those old Bantam Books’ Star Trek Fotonovels at the antiques store this past Valentine’s Day brought a spark of real joy to me, and I eagerly beamed them back into my home; erasing my past regret of recklessly selling them for a bit of cash nearly 30 years ago. May these still-cherished paperbacks live long and prosper on their new shelf.

Where to Buy

Star Trek Fotonovels/Photostories are decades out of print, of course, but decent used copies might still be found on Amazon, eBay, Etsy or, if you’re lucky, a well-stocked brick & mortar antiques/book store. Prices depend entirely on the seller, of course. Good luck and good hunting!