Feminism, Star Wars, and Writing
There's a very interesting Livejournal community dedicated to feminist discussion of SF/F. It spurred me into an examination of my own novel, which I'm going to run with.
Once I met a guy at a party, and we got to talking about Star Wars. He asked me what my favorite part was. I have always had sort of a theory that you can tell a lot about someone by their favorite part in Star Wars. I said, "This might sound kind of weird, but it's when Luke is standing on Tattooine looking at the twin sunset." He said, "No way, me too!" Just that one moment. No action, no special effects. For me, that moment has always been the epitome of what science fiction/fantasy (and Star Wars) means to me: a glimpse of possibilities, the appreciation of being a small person standing on a world made of sand, the knowledge that something is out there. Anyhow, I ended up breaking up with the guy because he was, well, too much of a dreamer for me... but the scene remains.
I took some stream-of-consciousness notes on my novel this afternoon, a list of questions and missing scenes and things I need to emphasize better. I've had these characters kicking around for years. (I think I have a complete list of planets in the system on looseleaf paper dating back to when I was fourteen. This also why the character of Ari remains fourteen; even though I've grown up, I didn't want to lose that.) The crux of the matter being this: I love Star Wars. But it always bothered me that there was so much of this galaxy far, far away that Lucas left unexplored. Or rather, just ignored. Where were the people like me in Star Wars? Princess Leia was a pretty cool female character-- she was opinionated and she could shoot. But why the hell was there only one of her?
I wanted the characters in my novel to be people I would want to read about. I have four female main characters. They take turns having scenes. I figured, since I have four women, not just one, they will actually have distinct personalities, unlike most SF (how I detest the "token beautiful young genius" who appears in every ensemble cast of males to sleep with the hero). My failed rebellion against the evil government is a girls' club. I've got the behind-the-scenes computer programmer who is suddenly put in charge, the space jock who doesn't care about much of anything except getting her impounded ship back, the sophisticated bomb maker who wonders when the glamour in the whole rebellion thing disappeared, and the tagalong teenaged former waitress with paranoia and an attitude. The characters you'd expect to hook up don't.
I have a feminist vision myself. I want this to be reflected in my writing. The fact remains that I'm not writing a deep thought-provoking type of novel. I'm writing a soft sci-fi space opera adventure. I'm keeping it sort of campy; for instance, I've got a bomber who is attacked the morning after a one night stand and has to nakedly kill a bunch of assassins. I'm trying to have humor and also to have some deeper thoughts about war, people, and the vastness of space. But mostly it's a noir adventure in a corrupt city.
I just really want to accomplish what I'm trying to do. Is the simple fact that my characters are there enough, in this genre? I want to believe it is.
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