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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/1Oqu0Bv:
I’ve been pondering this one as I went and reread the story in question, which I wrote and had told myself was complete and only needed light editing, and oh my god there’s so much work.
But. I think. Here’s the thing. My Rey is not as feral as she ought to be. I have not devoted much on-screen time to her catching up on societal norms. I kind of handwaved it and got her to a point of marginal competence at human interaction. It makes her less interesting, maybe, and maybe I’ll go back and fix this?
But I’ve wound up writing her as possibly more adult and well-adjusted than she should be. Which. I should think that over more, I suppose.
However. What I really enjoy, and the reason I wound up doing it I think, though it wasn’t a conscious choice, is that she gets to be interesting as a really competent, really ruthless, really entertaining person? I have had a great deal of fun writing her as not particularly damaged, because then she is able to learn things and react to things and even be playful about things.
So, as I tackle the necessary heavy rewrites, I might keep some of that.
“I’ve learned a lot of things,” Rey said, “about what we consider acceptable in a society, and a large part of what I’ve learned is that people have intrinsic worth apart from what they’re capable of doing.”
“I’m not really in a place where that kind of thing is going to help me much,” Dameron said.
“I’ve worked really hard to learn it,” she said, giving her words a slightly harder edge than she had been so far. “So I’m not saying, Dameron, cheer up. I’m saying, I know you’re being brave and I need you to keep doing that. I know what an enormous amount of emotional effort it must take to not break down and throw a screaming fit, and I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but I don’t have the capacity to carry on and do that for both of us. I promise you I will do what I can for you, and I will do my best to keep your spirits up, but I may not be as much use to you as a regular person would be, in that respect.”
It took some effort for her to risk eye contact, but Dameron was regarding her with a look that most clearly conveyed impressed. “Fair,” he said.
“I’m helping you because we need you,” she said. “I’m helping you because my teacher asked me to. The last reason on my list of reasons for helping you is that my friends like you. I don’t know you, Dameron. I think I’d like to get to know you. But I don’t know you.”
“That’s the best pep-talk I’ve ever gotten,” he said. “You’re a genius, Rey.”
“Honesty is literally all I have,” she said. “I genuinely haven’t learned the other stuff yet.”
“No, no,” he said, “it’s perfect. You’re stuck with me, and I’m your job, so my job is to not make that any harder. I get it.”
“When you say it like that I can both agree with you and see how other people might think that sounds awful,” she said.
I’ve been pondering this one as I went and reread the story in question, which I wrote and had told myself was complete and only needed light editing, and oh my god there’s so much work.
But. I think. Here’s the thing. My Rey is not as feral as she ought to be. I have not devoted much on-screen time to her catching up on societal norms. I kind of handwaved it and got her to a point of marginal competence at human interaction. It makes her less interesting, maybe, and maybe I’ll go back and fix this?
But I’ve wound up writing her as possibly more adult and well-adjusted than she should be. Which. I should think that over more, I suppose.
However. What I really enjoy, and the reason I wound up doing it I think, though it wasn’t a conscious choice, is that she gets to be interesting as a really competent, really ruthless, really entertaining person? I have had a great deal of fun writing her as not particularly damaged, because then she is able to learn things and react to things and even be playful about things.
So, as I tackle the necessary heavy rewrites, I might keep some of that.
“I’ve learned a lot of things,” Rey said, “about what we consider acceptable in a society, and a large part of what I’ve learned is that people have intrinsic worth apart from what they’re capable of doing.”
“I’m not really in a place where that kind of thing is going to help me much,” Dameron said.
“I’ve worked really hard to learn it,” she said, giving her words a slightly harder edge than she had been so far. “So I’m not saying, Dameron, cheer up. I’m saying, I know you’re being brave and I need you to keep doing that. I know what an enormous amount of emotional effort it must take to not break down and throw a screaming fit, and I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but I don’t have the capacity to carry on and do that for both of us. I promise you I will do what I can for you, and I will do my best to keep your spirits up, but I may not be as much use to you as a regular person would be, in that respect.”
It took some effort for her to risk eye contact, but Dameron was regarding her with a look that most clearly conveyed impressed. “Fair,” he said.
“I’m helping you because we need you,” she said. “I’m helping you because my teacher asked me to. The last reason on my list of reasons for helping you is that my friends like you. I don’t know you, Dameron. I think I’d like to get to know you. But I don’t know you.”
“That’s the best pep-talk I’ve ever gotten,” he said. “You’re a genius, Rey.”
“Honesty is literally all I have,” she said. “I genuinely haven’t learned the other stuff yet.”
“No, no,” he said, “it’s perfect. You’re stuck with me, and I’m your job, so my job is to not make that any harder. I get it.”
“When you say it like that I can both agree with you and see how other people might think that sounds awful,” she said.
