Guest post by author Alison Levy
Growing up with undiagnosed anxiety, I desperately wished I could be strong and sure of myself. More than anything, I wanted to speak with authority, to be proud and intelligent, and for people to take me seriously. So when I set about to create a strong female character for my book “Gatekeeper,” I drew on those qualities, the qualities I wish I had, for inspiration for my main character, Rachel.
This was the figure of a farm girl, he realized, who had been raised on breakfasts of eggs and bacon. Her thick torso, along with her limbs, had been hardened into muscle by twenty-odd years of daily farm labor. (p.90)
Despite the fact that she’s from another dimension, I wanted Rachel to have a down-to-earth feel. To that end, I made her a farm girl who’s currently working in our dimension as a daemon collector. It’s a lofty sounding title but the actual job is mostly grunt work—physically demanding and sometimes dangerous.
Rachel’s job is not a calling or a career to her, it’s just a job. Since she works on her feet and with her hands, she doesn’t wear fancy clothes, jewelry, or makeup. When considering her appearance, her concern is not her attractiveness but whether or not she will blend in with the crowd as her job requires. Like many people, she doesn’t love her job, but she assumes the attitude that she’s going to do it with as little fuss as possible.
“Do your job,” she mumbled. “You have a job to do, so do it already.” (p.64)
It’s common for a female main character to have a love interest but I wanted to show Rachel’s emotional range without a partner. Instead of a romance, I wrote her as having recently gone through a breakup. This way, I can show the reader that she has a romantic side, but it doesn’t dominate her life. I think her feeling the sting of her long-term relationship coming to an end but refusing to fall apart because of the heartache showcases both her emotional vulnerability and her strength in the face of pain.
Rachel pinched her eyes shut and silently swore. So that was it. All Paavo’s previous flirtations had been dampened by the fact that she’d had a boyfriend; now, that obstacle was gone, and he was ramping up his efforts. Kash Dhruv, did you really have to run your mouth about our breakup to this guy? The thought of him soured her already bad mood. It had only been a month since her final confrontation with him; she wasn’t ready to be reminded of it.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, her voice a tad sharper than she intended. “Can we please drop the subject?” (p. 49)
In writing a strong female character, the most important element I wanted to include was confidence. Too often in books and movies, “strong” female characters are written as physically imposing or overly confrontational. That isn’t the sort of strength I’ve always aspired to. The strength I always wanted was the confidence to talk, be heard, and just take up space without feeling that I didn’t deserve it. To achieve this confidence in my main character, I imagined my other dimension, Rachel’s home, as a matriarchy. Raised in a society that historically saw women as the dominant gender, Rachel grew up being encouraged, even expected, to be sure of herself, forward, and capable. I felt it would naturally follow from such a foundation that she would carry herself with an air of authority and not doubt her competence.
Near the bottom of the page, she saw that her big brother had been ejected from yet another Kritt Council meeting for foul language. Underneath that posting, there was an additional message addressed to Rachel’s mother from the Council Speaker: Elafina—kindly teach your son to hold his tongue and digest the words a woman speaks to him, as is proper behavior for a man. Below that was a response from her mother: I taught him to digest wisdom and never to swallow shit. Which did you attempt to feed him, Saviza?
Rachel snickered and jutted out her chin with daughterly pride. (p. 85)
While I wanted Rachel to be self-assured, I wanted to avoid making her cocky. Confidence makes a character strong, but hubris makes them unlikeable. With this in mind, I wrote Rachel to have a realistic understanding of her limits so that when she approaches those limits, she’s comfortable enough in who she is to ask for help. I envy that sort of confidence.
“I need their help!” she shouted. “If the office is locked down, where am I supposed to take this guy if I get him? If I actually catch up to him and he doesn’t kill me, there’s no way I can hold him for long!” (p.135)
To make Rachel the confident woman I wish I was, I gave her a temper. Because I was taught all my life that girls shouldn’t be open with their anger, I tend to bottle up my temper and speak any complaints I have with a smile and an apology. I let Rachel be open with her anger; she’s a confident woman who knows her feelings are valid and doesn’t feel the need to say everything with a smile. That’s not to say that she’s always tactful—her father has had to teach her anger management—but she’s not afraid to snap at someone who’s pissing her off.
She caught her next sharply worded sentence just as it reached her tongue and shut her mouth. “Temper gets the better of you, Rachel,” she heard her father say. As he had taught her to do, she shook her head slowly while she reined in her ire. (p.37)
I was raised to not say anything harsher than “darn” because there’s a notion in our society that a woman who curses gets a reputation and no respect. Rachel didn’t grow up with this cultural constraint, so she curses openly. To me, this feels like a natural part of her personality; a person who is confident and not worried about how others see her isn’t likely to filter out profanity when speaking. And let’s face it: sometimes a well-placed F-bomb is the most effective way to make your point.
Relieved to have an outlet for her frustration, Rachel pulled back and slapped the guy as hard as she could. A satisfying tingle vibrated through her bandaged hand.
The violence of the contact clearly rattled him—his wide eyes blinked rapidly and his mouth fell open—but not enough to send him running. Instead, he pulled a knife out of his pocket and waved it in her direction. “Give me your money, bitch!”
“I am so freakin’ tired of people who are trying to hurt me calling me a bitch,” she said. “Get outta my face and go fuck yourself!” (p. 77)
It’s so gratifying to me that I’ve gotten such positive feedback about Rachel! She seems to resonate with readers for the same reasons I love her: her confidence, her attitude, and her foul mouth. I look forward to sharing more of her story in the future.
