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…a thing I’m chewing over is how the hell I integrate Meredith onto the Eclector, particularly long-term, without adding her in to play the role of Wendy to the Lost Boys.
I always hated Wendy. She never got to have any fun of her own, and she was always having to do all the scut work: mending and teaching and mentoring and being Pretty–a thing I hated as a child–and doing all the the things that make life a lot better to live, really, except that the Lost Boys never fucking bothered to get off their asses to do them.
And at the same time, in a lot of ways the Meredith I’m writing is a hell of a lot more experienced emotionally and socially than the remaining Ravager crew around her; she’s unwilling to put up with the level of filth around herself that they are. She’s unwilling to put up with the lack of respect that they might be. She’s generally much more clear about her boundaries and better at being aware of emotional undercurrents without having to translate them through a fog of toxic masculinity first.
I can see the lines of Wendy forming. And normally I’d be going “fine, let her be as irresponsible as anyone else then!” It’s not like I have problems writing things like Nebula, Queen of the Emotional Dumpster Fire, or Mantis, Occasional Exploding Doormat.
Except unlike Wendy, Meredith is an actual parent aboard the Eclector with her kid, determined to make sure her kid… gets to be a kid and does kid things. Like his homework. And some of those things she’s doing for Peter are going to appeal heavily to Yondu, who is still new to his command and pretty exasperated with the level of mathematical literacy (for example) on his crew–and Meredith has worksheets! And experience tutoring! And knows formal ways to teach math! That aren’t just intuitive and hard to explain!
If I was Yondu, I’d want that skill on my crew. I’d want the skills of an experienced household runner, someone who knows how to make money stretch; I’d want the skills also of an experienced negotiator, someone who is as good at surviving in a non-combat capacity as he is. Someone taught Peter how to sweet-talk his way through the universe, and I don’t actually think it was Yondu–the man uses flirting to put people off balance, not necessarily to actually charm them, and I’m pretty sure Meredith was more effective than that. I can see him trying to convince her to do that work on his ship, because I can see him noticing that the effects would be good.
And on the gripping hand… well, she’s sure as hell not motivated to parent anyone who isn’t an actual child. And she’s wary of the dynamic she can see herself falling into, where righteously demanding that you don’t leave bottles of fucking piss lying around and basic standards of hygiene suddenly morph into Meredith being responsible for convincing the entire crew to act like goddamn adults.
I suppose I’m trying to lay out the dilemma that hits a lot of women working and living in male-dominated spaces, myself included: how much of the rope do you drop regarding shit like “keeping basic spaces clean,” and how much of the work do you throw a fit over? Where do you draw the line, and how much work do you let yourself do unacknowledged simply because it clearly needs to be done, and no one else is doing it… and everyone is automatically assigning it to you?
I always hated Wendy. She never got to have any fun of her own, and she was always having to do all the scut work: mending and teaching and mentoring and being Pretty–a thing I hated as a child–and doing all the the things that make life a lot better to live, really, except that the Lost Boys never fucking bothered to get off their asses to do them.
And at the same time, in a lot of ways the Meredith I’m writing is a hell of a lot more experienced emotionally and socially than the remaining Ravager crew around her; she’s unwilling to put up with the level of filth around herself that they are. She’s unwilling to put up with the lack of respect that they might be. She’s generally much more clear about her boundaries and better at being aware of emotional undercurrents without having to translate them through a fog of toxic masculinity first.
I can see the lines of Wendy forming. And normally I’d be going “fine, let her be as irresponsible as anyone else then!” It’s not like I have problems writing things like Nebula, Queen of the Emotional Dumpster Fire, or Mantis, Occasional Exploding Doormat.
Except unlike Wendy, Meredith is an actual parent aboard the Eclector with her kid, determined to make sure her kid… gets to be a kid and does kid things. Like his homework. And some of those things she’s doing for Peter are going to appeal heavily to Yondu, who is still new to his command and pretty exasperated with the level of mathematical literacy (for example) on his crew–and Meredith has worksheets! And experience tutoring! And knows formal ways to teach math! That aren’t just intuitive and hard to explain!
If I was Yondu, I’d want that skill on my crew. I’d want the skills of an experienced household runner, someone who knows how to make money stretch; I’d want the skills also of an experienced negotiator, someone who is as good at surviving in a non-combat capacity as he is. Someone taught Peter how to sweet-talk his way through the universe, and I don’t actually think it was Yondu–the man uses flirting to put people off balance, not necessarily to actually charm them, and I’m pretty sure Meredith was more effective than that. I can see him trying to convince her to do that work on his ship, because I can see him noticing that the effects would be good.
And on the gripping hand… well, she’s sure as hell not motivated to parent anyone who isn’t an actual child. And she’s wary of the dynamic she can see herself falling into, where righteously demanding that you don’t leave bottles of fucking piss lying around and basic standards of hygiene suddenly morph into Meredith being responsible for convincing the entire crew to act like goddamn adults.
I suppose I’m trying to lay out the dilemma that hits a lot of women working and living in male-dominated spaces, myself included: how much of the rope do you drop regarding shit like “keeping basic spaces clean,” and how much of the work do you throw a fit over? Where do you draw the line, and how much work do you let yourself do unacknowledged simply because it clearly needs to be done, and no one else is doing it… and everyone is automatically assigning it to you?
