[There should be woman vs. machine, and woman vs. nature, and woman vs. anything against which a man can struggle. But there isn't. And I'm not the author to write it. Because I am about as good at writing female characters as Dickens. (Stop it. I heard you wanting to defend him. Name one well-rounded/compelling female character in a Dickens novel. I'll wait. Havisham doesn't count.)]
She looked up from the fire she was building. Thousands of beads of light flickered in the darkness beyond the glow's reach. Her pause caused the fire to gutter and die.
This was going to be a long night.
Sorry. Jack London didn't write any books with female protagonists. Which is unfortunate.
ReplyDeleteI always liked Agnes.
ReplyDeleteI like your fire-building thing. I have stories about that from camp, in which I was the only girl who knew how to light/tend a fire and did so on a regular basis and had to teach other girls how so we could have a hot sweat lodge. Oh, and the whole Janelle-carries-lumber-and-can-wield-a-hammer thing. That was fun.
Camp was fun.