26/09/2014 um 11:16
writing and… certain aspects of femininity
A lot of things are not mentioned in stories, especially not the mundane stuff. The fact that people eat, sleep and have to use the bathroom for example, unless it serves the story. There are also a lot of traps to avoid while writing strong women. A strong woman doesn’t mean that they’re emotionless battle-amazons, but that they’re independent human beings with a range of emotions and one or more goals.
But there’s one thing that I never see mentioned (maybe I’m reading the wrong books). A (biological) woman will have to deal with her body every four weeks or so. Regardless of if she’s a soldier, a princess or a scientist, her uterus will declare war and she has to deal with it.
And even though most women put up a strong facade and pretend there’s nothing wrong, it is uncomfortable, it hurts and you’re not quite yourself. More often than not, you want to curl up in a ball and curse a blue streak.
The longer I think about it, the more I want to put this in the book – it’s about women, after all. And I thought, hm, how will my precious male lead, supposedly every girl’s dream, deal with that. Because let’s face it, men usually blatantly ignore a woman’s period or use it as a reason to not take her seriously and it makes them feel uncomfortable. If they are even aware of what’s going on…
Nate handles this a tad bit differently:
Nate watched Adelie as she fidgeted in her pilot’s chair, taking a deep breath every so often while rubbing her lower back.
“You okay? Pulled a muscle or something?”
“Wha- oh, no, it’s nothing. I’m okay.”
Nothing. Sure. If she had pulled a muscle, she’d have said so. Nothing only meant one thing. He stood up.
“Be right back.”
” ‘kay.” She kept watching the consoles, rubbing her back.
Five minutes later he returned with a tray, holding a little red pillow, a chocolate bar and a cup of tea.
“There, I thought this might help.” He placed the pillow, which was a heating pillow, in her lower back and handed her the chocolate bar and the cup.
The astonishment in her face was priceless. “Thank you. How do you…?”
“Sharing bridge duty with someone for eight years makes you pick up certain patterns. No big deal. Now put up your feet and relax for a bit. I have a painkiller too, if you need one.”
A grateful smile over the rim of the cup as she reclined her chair, snuggling with the warm pillow.
“You have no idea.”
“Oh, judging from your happy face, I certainly do.”