(The way I figure, he has to at least be able to look at the memories, right? Otherwise how would he be able to know which memories to take? There has to be a selection process!)
I couldn't think of any way to do it except in second person without referring to Alphonse/Bob/Haile Selassie as The Haitian, which I really did not want to do. But writing from his perspective is terrifying. :O
Also . . . I dunno. I have a hard time conceptualizing writing him in first person, at least for this - in part because a lot of what I wanted to do was play a little with the way he always seems to turn up to further other people's plots/emotional needs, and then turn that around.
I love Sandra and her shooting lessons and this:
“Ah,” she says, and then, “I guess I can’t blame Lyle forgettin’ to take the garbage out on you, either, then.”
And Alphonse/Bob/Haile Selassie from Haiti and how he notices everything except his own grief, and that's it written in second person, and the end.
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(The way I figure, he has to at least be able to look at the memories, right? Otherwise how would he be able to know which memories to take? There has to be a selection process!)
I couldn't think of any way to do it except in second person without referring to Alphonse/Bob/Haile Selassie as The Haitian, which I really did not want to do. But writing from his perspective is terrifying. :O
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... Which would have been even more terrifying, I expect.
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Also . . . I dunno. I have a hard time conceptualizing writing him in first person, at least for this - in part because a lot of what I wanted to do was play a little with the way he always seems to turn up to further other people's plots/emotional needs, and then turn that around.
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