M. D. Tabat

The story is the answer to a question that has dogged me since I first watched old science fiction shows like Lost in Space, and Star Trek on our black and white TV and movies like Forbidden Planet and 2001: A Space Odyssey; how will we humans ever really get off this planet and explore space?
How can we generate enough cash to send battleship sized vehicles to the stars when we can't even afford to go to the moon? The idea that some beneficent race will take pity on us and donate their stardrive technology is as preposterous as someone handing the keys to their new Cadillac to a random homeless person. But a sleazy junk dealer who makes a living pawning off broken down engines to gullible planets in the galactic backwaters just might make a call on us.

Somewhere in the middle of writing the first draft, when I was banging away at the keyboard, I was suddenly shocked at a new development in the story - it was an 'out-of-page' experience. I knew that I was typing. I knew that the story was coming out of my head. But the story had taken on a life of its own and I could not help say out loud, "I didn't know that was going to happen! I wonder what happens next?"