happy four year publiversary to the little stabby queer book that made me an author <3
THE PERFECT ASSASSIN came out March 19th 2019 and it's been a RIDE. I don't normally make a thing about bookversaries, but there have been so many downs on the publishing rollercoaster of late that I've had to stop and just appreciate:
I'm here.
And I have a book out! Three books out! And they're all good, IMNSHO, and they're all stabby and they're all queer and I really wish they'd gotten more of a chance to shine, but that's just publishing (and the pandemic 😬)
But I have to be honest with you, I have cried a lot this past week, I have despaired a lot this past year--that I'd ever publish again, that I'd ever finish a book again, that I'd survive in this industry. And I did finish a book only to immediately trunk it, and now I have nothing to show for those four years except empty hands and a heavy heart.
And the cockroach-like will to keep going.
Because I'm certainly not the only author in this boat, not the first, definitely not the last. We've all cried a lot these past years, so maybe if we take a moment to celebrate a book that's been out and already long forgotten (remainders, anyone?), we should. We deserve to.
Happy anniversary, Amastan. 🖤🤍💜
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Random train of thought on mentors, protagonists, “Weapons Factory” and “Old Friends Not Forgotten”
I wrote this ‘bout half a year ago, and even then, the “Weapons Factory” episode has plenty of amazing meta written about it on Tumblr. Finally decided to update and post it when I noticed something while rewatching Season 7.
For other takes on this subject, check out these:
Lumi’s meta on “Weapon’s Factory”.
JediMasterBailey’s meta on “Weapons Factory”.
Wrong protagonists & the mentor archetype
Stories gotta have conflict.
“Character wants something and something is in their way so they need to overcome that obstacle in order to get what they want.”
Good way to have conflict in your story is giving your protagonist a flaw they need to overcome.
Sometimes, that flaw is glaring, and the protagonist is outright wrong. When they realize they were wrong, we see that realization as a pay-off usually in a later scene. Examples of this in Star Wars:
From the moment he puts on the mask, Vader acts as if Anakin Skywalker is dead and there’s no way back for him from the darkness. When his son lays his life out on the line to save him, he realizes he must do the same to protect him and overcomes his inner darkness.
In TLJ, Luke firmly believes the Jedi should die out for the good of the galaxy. He realizes that’s a load of crap, and gets back in the fight.
Most of the time we see a Jedi Master... they’re not the protagonist. Usually, the protagonist is someone who isn’t a Jedi quite yet, someone young, who hasn’t arced yet, a learner.
So the archetype the Jedi fill more frequently is that of the wise mentor, someone who has already become the best version of themselves, and is now helping the protagonist with their arc.
The Jedi are Gandalf, Dumbledore, Jiminy Cricket... the voice of reason.
So, most of the time, when we’re seeing the Jedi (who strive to overcome their flaws), we’re seeing them from the eyes of flawed characters.
Like Anakin.
Anakin, Luminara & the lesson of “letting go”
Seeing as Anakin is our protagonist, he’s our lead POV character in most of the scenes we see the Jedi. We’re seeing events through his eyes.
And it’s easy to do because he’s flawed, and guess what, he’s emotional too… but we - the viewers - are also flawed and emotional. So any scene with him and the Jedi in it, we’re instantly gonna relate more to him than to the Jedi because we make an emotional connection with him.
He’s angry at the Jedi? If the writers do their job right, we’ll empathize and be angry too.
He feels they’re dispassionate and dogmatic? We will feel that too.
But if you look at things objectively... most of the time he’s in the wrong. Or at least he’s not following the rules correctly. And if he does learn, it’s temporary. After all, this is the guy who ends up becoming Vader. As Dave Filoni puts it:
“The challenge for us, creatively, is that unfortunately we can never solve any of [Anakin’s] problems fully. We can present them, we can start him to a path of understanding and hope that the audience understands that which the character of Anakin Skywalker cannot. That he can never take the final full step to being this more enlightened person, because he keeps getting pulled back down.”
- Dave Filoni,
The Clone Wars:
“The Slaves of Zyggeria” video commentary, 2012
In this case, let’s take the Jedi rule of “letting go” of attachments.
In Anakin’s mind, “letting go” (accepting that there are things beyond your control ) is synonymous with “giving up”. Which isn’t the case, for a Jedi. To them, it’s a sign of maturity, not weakness or carelessness.
This is perfectly illustrated in the TCW episode “Weapons Factory”.
In the episode, Ahsoka and Barris are trapped beneath rubble, and are slowly dying from the lack of oxygen.
Above the ground, Anakin and Luminara search for them, but it’s pointless because the area to cover is large and they have no idea where the two Padawans are.
Like, here’s the facts:
They can sense that their Padawans are slowly dying beneath the debris.
Locating them is impossible.
None of the ships, troops and equipments will be able to dig around enough to find them in time.
The two Padawans are as good as dead, and whether they do make it out alive is beyond Anakin and Luminara’s control, and entirely up to the Padawans’ own resourcefulness.
And Anakin is basically getting angry at Luminara for prematurely mourning her apprentice, saying that she’s already given up on her Padawan, but he won’t give up on Ahsoka, no sir!
The interesting thing is that we feel what Anakin is saying, and most of the audience watching agrees with Anakin.
Like, anybody I talk to about this episode remembers it as “oh yeah, Luminara didn’t give a fuck and was willing to let her Padawan die”:
But if you look at the scene objectively?
You can see that Luminara is very saddened by this.
But as opposed to Anakin, who is just pacing around going “what-do-I-do what-do-I-do what-do-I-do what-do-I-do”... she is getting ready to accept Barris’ sacrifice.
And Anakin hears this as “oh I’m just giving up and you should too”. When that’s not really the case. Anakin is completely right to care and to not give up on Ahsoka. But she’s talking about a completely different thing, they’re not on the same wavelength.
He’s talking about saving them... whereas she’s emotionally readying herself for the eventuality that they can’t. She’s not saying “stop looking for them”, she’s saying “it might not be enough”.
Again, those Padawans are as good as dead. Fact.
And then Ahsoka changes that fact by letting out that signal and letting them know that “yo, we’re here!”
Anakin and Luminara immediately and simultaneously go “oh shit they’re there!” and free them.
We even see Luminara react to the emerging Padawans before Anakin.
And that’s what a Jedi does.
She doesn’t shut out her emotions, so much as she looks at the facts and accepts them. The second the facts changed, she reacted at the same time as Anakin. The only difference was that she wasn’t losing her shit.
She isn’t talking about “giving up” or “not caring”, it’s about duty and pragmatism over hotheadedness. It’s about being ready to let go when there’s nothing else to do.
And one thing that I’d like to point out is that, while the episode is about having faith in your students, its narrative allows Luminara to make a fair point and get the last word.
Anakin may not understand it or agree with it, in this episode, but he soon will in the next season.
So, right there... the over-arching narrative is that Anakin has trouble letting go and accepting his own limits... and eventually he makes a meaningful first step towards being able to do that.
At the end of this post, there’s a quote where Lucas basically goes into the fact that, as a mentor, at some point the only thing you can do is hope you’ve trained your student the best you can, hope they’ll use your knowledge well, and let them go on their own path.
Anakin’s teachings got Ahsoka out of the rubble, on Geonosis.
Anakin’s teachings helped Ahsoka survive the Trandoshan hunters.
So not only were the mentor figures correct... slowly the protagonist is arcing and becoming one of them.
As mentioned before, though... it’s temporary. Overcoming your flaw doesn’t mean doing so forever.
The difference between this and Season 7
Skip to season 7, and we have another situation where the mentor figure is questioned:
But this time... the narrative doesn’t allow Obi-Wan to really make a meaningful point beyond “that’s not fair”.
In the dialogue, they acknowledge that Ahsoka isn’t trying to be, but we don’t see her come around to thinking “yeah, maybe I was childishly oversimplifying an incredibly complex situation”.
Just like Anakin in “Weapons Factory”, she’s emotionally framed as being morally right... but in this case, it’s left at that. There is no payoff, there is no realization, there is no moment of self-reflection.
She’s right, and that’s it.
And, lucky for her, the galaxy’s geo-political situation becomes much more black and white, following Order 66, so she’s not about to be put in as difficult a scenario as Obi-Wan and Anakin were, the day Coruscant was being attacked.
So... what changed?
Obi-Wan’s argument isn’t any less rational than Luminara’s or Plo Koon’s... yet for some reason we’re supposed to emotionally side with the irrational one? It feels a bit forced.
Am I missing something here? Why is the mentor framed as right before, but in Season 7, for seemingly no reason... they’re not?
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