Mentorship and Sacrifice: The Role of Women in Red Dirt ©

I sat, enjoying a warm, solitary comfort in my pho as I took shelter from the frigid cold outside. As I people watched inside the quiet little restaurant (a silence broken only by the cashier yelling into the kitchen in colorful Vietnamese) my mind wandered.

An observant fan reached out with a seemingly simple question now stamped into my mind.

"Why are all your main hero characters female?"

Observant, indeed.

We are all shaped by our life experiences. Some of our opinions and outlooks on life, unconscious or not, can likely be traced to an event we may or may not have recollection of. The mind is a deep, mysterious thing we haphazardly understand (perhaps) on a rudimentary level.

I dare say some of my experiences were shaped by an abusive father.

"

My opinions and views on the matter stem more from the psychological than the political, but regardless, the experience of my father and the gift of having female mentors (two of whom have passed away from cancer) shaped my creativity.

"

My connection to strong, female characters and role models has no political grounds. I have always considered myself (for lack of a better word) a moderate; firm on my opinions and beliefs and maintaining my own relationship with the unknown, but always open to growth and knowledge (which many people these days can use more of to be quite frank...)

My mother is an immigrant courtesy of Ronald Reagan who came here with a baby and $20 in her pocket. She had three jobs at one point with limited English, and that is just scratching the surface of her early trials. Her sacrifices were not something I recognized until much later in life, when I could fathom and better understand how the jigsaw pieces of life all fit together. My father's complete lack of loving presence and tendency to be violent led me down a mental path at an early age that taught me a very simple (albeit terribly flawed) rule:

Men were to be feared. Women were to be exalted.

Trauma is a funny thing.

My Mother and I, circa 1988/89

Indeed, it took two decades for me to crawl out from under the shadow of this mantra that had been burned into my soul, but the unfortunate reality is that as I look around at the world, I am seeing a veil of truth to the matter.

I am not "anti male" as some might claim in their linguistic, political gymnastics. There are men I admire. My opinions and views on the matter stem more from the psychological than the political, but regardless, the experience of my father and the gift of having female mentors and friends (two of whom who passed away from cancer) shaped my creativity and interests.

Warhammer 40K and the Sisters of Battle left their mark.

When playing videogames, in particular role-playing games, I caught myself always imagining and creating female heroines. In my teenage years, when I discovered the world of Warhammer: 40,000, I was drawn to collecting and learning about the Sisters of Battle. (The character design of The Saint Chanter in Red Dirt Part III was heavily influenced by this keen, nostalgic memory.)

For this, however, I was mercilessly ridiculed by my teenage male peers with whom I would play with on weekends. This did little for their cause and easing my disdain for male company. Even a store clerk, an adult I expected to perhaps step in, joined in their hyenic revelries.

I quit going.

---

There is purpose behind the words and actions of all the female roles across the Red Dirt books, each with their own personality traits and lessons that are observed - and absorbed - by the young Miri, who not only is a young woman, but a young synthetic still coming to terms with her human traits; the purpose of sleep eludes her at times, for example, but she does it, only because she has to.

Understanding the why, however, is part of her journey, and that comes from the wise, brave, and at times eccentric cast of women in her orbit that all serve as mothers or mentors to Miri at different stages of her adventures. She is, in turn, shaped and molded by the actions of her mentors but maintains her independence; Miri isn't afraid to be herself, but the more she understands and shapes what she is, the more she can express it.

I would know. I've been shaped by quite a few of them myself.

---

I stared at the mountain of bean sprouts I had neglected to eat with my pho.

I love food. Everyone knows I abuse my excellent metabolism to no end (while I can, at least) and can put it down. But bean sprouts are a red line.

I just can't.

I buttoned my jacket and walked out into the winter air. Across the street was the restaurant I had seen one of my mentors at for the last time; I remember her smile and frail, chemo ravaged frame like it was yesterday. No more than a week after that dinner, she was gone.

I smiled.

Pretty sure she hated bean sprouts, too.