Interviews! Filler content throughout chapter.

ANDROS VALIER, DISTRICT ONE MALE

"Andros, are you awake? It's time to talk interview strategy." Virgil's words, accompanied by a sharp knocking on my door, pull me out of a deep and dreamless sleep.

"I'll be right there!" I call out groggily, internally cursing myself for not setting an alarm. I let myself take one day off from a morning workout, and I almost sleep through my interview prep? This is why I stick to a strict routine.

I climb out of the bed and twist from side to side, cracking my back. The clothes the Capitol has provided all fit perfectly, so I grab the first shirt and pair of trousers I see and put them on. A solid black outfit- acceptable.

"Virgil? I'm ready."

My mentor gives me a short nod and leads me to a separate room in the District One quarters. It's set up only with two armchairs. "This is what we're using for interview prep- I don't want you distracted by anyone else if we talk in the common area, and this mimics the setup for tonight. Sound good?"

I nod and sit down in one of the chairs. I wish I'd been able to get breakfast, but so it goes. I chose to get some extra sleep, now I'll wait til lunch to eat.

"So, Andros, how are you feeling about interviews?" Virgil asks as he sits stiffly in the other chair.

I shrug. "Fine. I got the highest training score, they'll probably focus on that, right?"

"Yes, to some extent. That'll get you a fair amount of sponsorship for sure, but this is your chance to cement your position as the top-ranking tribute. You're a volunteer with one of the highest scores of all time- the Capitol knows you're a threat, now they want to get to know you."

"Get to know me how? It's three minutes."

Virgil furrows his brow. "That's what we're discussing right now. Now, you trained at Silve's academy, so I don't know you as well as she does. Tell me about yourself! If there's something you really want to talk about during your interview, I'll see if I can get that information to Octavius. The Gamemakers really appreciate leading questions during interviews so they can direct the interviews to the best of their ability."

"I don't think there's anything in particular I want to talk about. I mean, I mostly just train. And I have my mother, my father, and an older brother and a younger sister."

Virgil is silent for a moment. "And?"

"And?" I got an eleven in training, that should have me covered. Why do we have to dig into my life?

"I need more. Who are your friends? Are you in a relationship? How do you get along with your family? What's your story? Frankly, Andros, the Capitol loves to exploit love and pain for ratings. You don't have to talk about things you don't want to, but we need to find something you're passionate about."

Good luck to him. I can already tell that tonight's interview will be like pulling teeth to sit through. "Well, I have my training partner Angelique- she's a friend, I suppose. I get along with my family, my younger sister most of all. I don't know what you want from me- I've trained since I got a scholarship contract to the academy, and I agreed to volunteer. I'm not exactly interesting."

Virgil gives me a questioning look. "You have a contract?"

"Yeah. So do a lot of people."

"No, they don't. A lot of students have scholarship agreements for the price, or their families are on payment plans. Contracts are few and far between- how'd you manage that?"

"I stopped a robbery."

"Say more?"

"When I was eleven, my mother was attacked for her jewelry. The robber stabbed her, but I attacked him and he ran off. One of the witnesses was from the Platinum Academy and we got the contract offer a few days later. They'd let me train and pay my family a small stipend so long as I agreed to volunteer if selected."

"You attacked him? Any weapons?" I shake my head. Virgil whistles in amazement and leans back in his chair. "Now that's a story. If you can work that in to the interview, you should. I'll try to make sure you're asked why you volunteered, and that can lead into it."

"Great. Is that all?"

"Absolutely not. That still ties in to your training and this very stoic image the Capitol has of you. Let's find something more emotional."

If Virgil finds something passionate and emotional in me, I hope he lets me know. I've been searching for it long enough. "Why? Isn't my training score and my exciting story enough for the interview?"

"It's good, but you could be great. Maybe we can connect this story to how much you care for your family. How did you feel during the incident?"

"I was upset that my mother was suffering."

"And?"

"And? Oh. Scared, I guess."

"You guess? There's got to be more to it. Tell me about your relationship with your family. You can spin this robbery story not only into a show of your ability, but also of your feelings. It doesn't matter if it's completely true, it's all about getting the Capitol on your side."

I try not to clench my jaw. What else is there? My family cares for me, I care for them. Where can I dig deeper to find what I'm supposedly missing? But to satisfy Virgil- and later, Octavius and the Capitol- I say the right thing. "I love my family so much, it hurt to see my mother in pain. I'd do anything for my mother, since she supports us with her stone carving business and her love. I love my father and brother and sister too. Isha's my sister, and I care for her most of all since she's younger than me and I have to protect her. They all mean the world to me."

Virgil nods. "That'll do. Keep that energy, Andros, and the Capitol will be eating out of your hand."

SHELBY LEONE, DISTRICT FOUR FEMALE

"Shelby! Looking good!" Cyrus calls out as I approach the rest of my allies.

"Thanks, I smooth out the skirt of my glittery emerald sheath dress and grin. I do look good, and I know it. If there's one thing about the Capitol that I've really enjoyed, it's their taste in fabric. And my allies clean up nicely—Eliana and Caelle look Amazonian in the best ways in their gowns, and the boys look sharp in tuxes. District One has a monopoly on the color red this year, and Two has favored an iridescent silver. Shark's the odd one out, head to toe in black, but that's nothing new. He's not really part of this group.

I hope I'm fully part of the group. We've all trained in pairs, but the only one I really connect with is Cyrus. The rest of them are no fun. They're strategic, not fun. Part of me thinks I should be taking the hint and thinking the same way they do, but I just can't. I just can't.

Every time I try to think like they do, all aloof and figuring out what best benefits them long-term, it's like my brain shuts off. I've always lived life in the moment and now that I'd kind of like to stop doing that, it feels impossible.

Every minute I'm here, the more wrong it feels. The exploration and the introductions were fun. Training was fun, if repetitive. This interview should be fun—I'm no stranger to playing for a crowd. But the closer we get to launch, the shakier I feel. The reality is settling in, and it's a stark, painful feeling.

The Hunger Games have always felt more like a reality show than a world of death. I've never lost anyone close to me. The grief is always distant and detached.

I can't imagine death up close.

"Shelby, you good? We need to line up." Eliana looks at me quizzically as she calls my name, and Cyrus rubs my back.

I refocus my gaze and grin at them. "Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine! Just a little nervous."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. You've got such a big personality, three minutes with Octavius will be a breeze for you." Eliana sounds a little jealous, and I don't blame her. She always moves so stiffly, like she's got a rod taped to her back.

We disperse and find our spots in line. I see Shark waiting sullenly in his spot and I can't help but grimace.

"Hey Cyrus?" I ask the boy from Two as he steps into line behind Caelle.

"What's up?"

"Can I have a hug? For the nerves?"

"Of course." He smiles and I wrap my arms around his neck. At this point, he's the closest thing I have to a friend. And I think that's worth a lot right now. Far more than usual.

I zone out as interviews begin. Eliana drones on about her family and training and how hard she's worked (yawn), and it feels like everyone else does the exact same thing. Cyrus spices it up with some jokes, but still. Snoozefest.

When I hear a word that I don't know, I refocus on the screen. The boy from Three is up, and he's talking animatedly about some scientific concept. Even Octavius looks confused.

Fuck. Wait. Fuck. I'm next.

I rush forward, almost tripping in my tight skirt.

"Give a warm welcome to Shelby Leone, from District Four!"

I put on my best smile and wink at the crowd as I walk on, garnering a huge cheer. The attention bolsters me and I blow a kiss for added effect.

"Shelby, you look stunning!"

"What, this old thing? Honestly, I think my training uniform looked better!" Another huge laugh. Fantastic.

We banter a bit, and then he asks "So, how did you feel about training?"

If there's one thing I'm sure of, I don't want to take the same old serious path as everyone else. "Well, to be honest I'm a little disappointed in my score of eight. Did the Gamemakers tell you? I danced during my private session. I think I deserve at least a nine for my killer moves."

I lose track of time as I play with the crowd, and the buzzer goes off far too soon. I exit to uproarious applause, and take a second to refocus as Shark takes the stage.

Suddenly, I'm aware of silence. The crowd hasn't been this quiet all night? What-?

I cringe as I look at the screen. Shark sits awkwardly in the chair, and Octavius's signature smile looks forced. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"I. Am. Here. To. Kill." Shark says. The audience doesn't say a word. I scoff. You'd think they'd appreciate the blunt truth at least a little?

Octavius tries to redirect. "Ahaha, save that for tomorrow, Mr. Mason! Tell us, what did you do at training?"

"Practice killing."

"Er… what do you like to do in your free time at home in Four?"

I brace myself for the answer. Octavius, do any of us really want to know the response to that?

"I kill. Mostly small animals." The Capitol gasps, clearly not fans of animal death. Ironic.

"Ah. Interesting." There's no salvaging Shark's interview. It's put a damper on the glitz and glamor of the night, and on my mood as well.

For all Shark's lack of charisma and stage presence, he's unfortunately accurate. Killing is what they expect come tomorrow. And my bloodthirsty district partner is the only one willing to admit it.

SHARIF NAFTI, DISTRICT EIGHT MALE

I lean back against the wall and rub my hands against the thighs of my trousers. I can't feel my fingers, and I'm sure it's because of nerves. I barely speak in classes or at work, why would I suddenly be good at public speaking when I have to give an interview on national television?

Inaya and I had prep sessions with a Capitol mentor, since District Eight has no victors. She brought in a speechwriter who's worked for the President and he gave us some tips on the interviews, but none of them feel helpful. I don't have any fascinating stories or witty turns of phrase to show off, and my time here in the Capitol has been mediocre too. Nothing about me stands out. All I have is private observations and personal stories, none of which make for a memorable interview. The speech writer asked if I had any secrets I could suddenly reveal onstage, but I categorically refuse to make my feelings for Amira known now of all times.

Inaya said something earlier that's stuck with me all day. "It's not so bad being forgettable." I have to agree with my district partner, but even she's got something going for her. Two allies and a kind personality that will no doubt attract the sponsors in search of an underdog.

Honestly, I have nothing. I'd be more noticeable if I threw up onstage or froze like a deer in headlights, and I certainly don't plan on doing either of those.

I take heart in the fact that I'll be going in between Inaya and Rhea. Technically my interview strategy is 'quiet strength', so hopefully that will come across in contrast to the tributes I'm near.

I train my attention on the screen as the little girl from Six takes the stage. She's tiny, and her little floaty dress only emphasizes her youth. She looks like a pixie of some kind.

She's going to die and we all know it. It sucks and makes me feel rotten inside to say it, but it's the truth that we have to face. Octavius is aware too, and he carefully avoids any questions about the Games, instead asking about her family and home life.

She's a sweet kid. Seems far younger than twelve, though. The Capitol cheers for her, and I'm appalled. They know she's dead. Not a one of them sees her as the 'underdog' or a 'dark horse'. She's twelve years old and she's a walking corpse.

Kids like her never make it out of the Games.

I hate that I'm willing to think like that. The worst part is, it's a relief. I'm not alone in my thoughts, I'm not a monster for thinking this way. It's just a fact. Maybe that makes us all monsters—so be it, I guess.

There's a reason I'm not attaching myself to anyone in these Games, and it's because of this. Twenty-three teenagers are going to die, and if I want to be the one that lives, friendships mean nothing. Allies mean nothing. The only thing that matters is my own survival and attachment to myself.

I don't know what people will think of me in my interview, but I know what I don't want them to see. I don't want anyone looking at me and saying 'he doesn't have a chance. He's dead tomorrow'.

Everlyn twirls offstage and is replaced by her district partner.

"From District Six, Syko Le Heisenberg!"

"Good evening, everyone! May I just reiterate what an honor it is to be here tonight?"

"Syko, how charming you are. How have you found your stay in the Capitol so far?"

The boy from Six stretches his teeth over his lips in a terrifying sneer, but the Capitolites find it appealing. "Oh, it's been truly wonderful, Octavius. I think I've found my true calling in live. I've never met people whose interests and goals align so well with my own!"

Octavius leans forward. "Oh? Care to share?"

"The art of death, Octavius!"

There it is. The cool, soulless demeanor Syko has revealed to us fellow tributes.

"Oh, how curious! Do go on- what do you mean?"

"Well, I must say, I find the Games as entertaining and beautiful as you wonderful folks do!" The crowd roars, stamping their feet and clapping their hands. They love him. They see themselves in him. It chills my blood. I'm no longer afraid of going on stage, I'm afraid of the audience I'll be speaking to. Syko raises one hand and they calm down immediately. "You see, the Games are a thing of wonder. Of beauty and artistry and storytelling. Quite honestly, I'm thrilled to have the opportunity to have my own stint in the arena and provide, hopefully, some quality television."

I've never seen this Syko before— he's smirking and playing nice and almost affectionate towards the crowd. If I didn't pay attention to the words coming out of his mouth, he could almost be soothing. In training, it seemed like he intended to psych everyone out as quickly as possible.

"Syko, could you give us any hints to your strategy come tomorrow?"

"Oh, Octavius, I really shouldn't-"

The crowd, deprived of information from their new favorite, screams and begs. He looks out at the audience and a strange mix of glee and pity shadows his face.

"Well, if you insist!"

Raucous cheers almost drown out the first part of his answer, but he pauses to let the noise abate. I hate how clear it is that he knows how to work a crowd. "Let me make it absolutely clear that I know everything important there is to know about my opponents. Their weaknesses, their fears. I've been watching them all during training, and I have plans for each and every one of them."

Octavius is eating it up, but I feel sick. Watching? I've done my best to slide under the radar. Does he really know my weaknesses? Know what I've been up to?

If it was anyone else, I'd call their bluff, but with Syko I'm convinced it's the truth.

It solidifies one thing in my mind: steer clear of danger. Steer clear of Syko.

INAYA STRATTON, DISTRICT EIGHT FEMALE

I glance at Sharif to make sure he's hearing the same terrifying things that I am. What a lucky bastard- he gets to go after me, which means one slot further away from Syko. The more distance from that monster, the better.

Sharif slumps against the wall, his solemn face twisted into a stressed grimace. Same. I almost reach out to say something, to try and comfort my district partner, but Sharif's eyes are locked on the television and I don't want to interrupt his focus. If watching the other interviews helps keep him prepared for his own, I don't want to get in the way.

On the other side of Sharif, Rhea fiddles with some of the extra fabric on her skirt as she stares nervously on the floor.

Honestly, I don't especially want to talk to her right now, and I don't think I could if I wanted to. The Peacekeepers haven't let anyone out of line, and Rhea's sob stories are probably the last thing I should hear right before my interview.

So, I turn to my other side and lean into Malek a little bit. The District Seven boy wraps an arm around my shoulders almost automatically, and I look up at his stricken face.

"You okay?" I ask, as Syko leaves the stage and Malek's district partner Aviva is escorted up for her turn.

He blinks twice and looks at me like I've startled him. "Yeah, sorry. That was just… a lot." Then he seems to realize that he's got his arm around me. "Oh, sorry, uh-"

"No, it's fine. Comforting." Kind of odd, but I'll take it. Feels like a hug from Lebric. I return Malek's embrace to reassure him that it's all right, which garners a smile.

"It's a reflex, honestly. I always do this if one of my sisters or my friend Sanna is standing by me."

I nod. "Makes sense. Any kind of familiarity is pretty nice at the moment, wouldn't you agree?"

His smile grows wistful. "Yeah, definitely agree. I kind of wish we could do these interviews in groups, it'd be less stressful."

"I don't think they'd let us choose our groups, though."

"You're probably right. Still, I'd rather do it with Aviva than go alone."

We both turn our attention to the television, where Aviva is flexing her muscles to the crowd. "I'm gonna win!" she boasts, "I was born to win the Games, even though I'm from an outer district! I was practically trained my whole life, thanks to climbing trees and throwing axes! I have seven older brothers that I fight with every day to get strong just in case I was ever reaped!"

I raise an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

Malek laughs. "She's not exactly pleasant, but I think I could play off her energy all right. At least it would be better than District Six trying to interview together."

I roll my eyes. "Could you imagine? Syko might decide to kill Everlyn right then and there." I bite my tongue as soon as the words leave my mouth. How could I make such a cruel joke about little Everlyn? I don't think I've ever said anything so callous before in my life.

Malek laughs again, but it's hollow. "The sad thing is, you're probably right?"

I wince. "As long as you don't think I'm a horrible person for saying that out loud."

"Why would you be? I think we have a free pass for gallows humor right now, especially when it's not about ourselves."

"I don't think I'll make any jokes like that onstage, though."

"Oh, yeah, no. Not at all. I don't think I'll be able to come up with anything funny to say once I hit that stage, with the crowd and all."

"What do you plan on saying?"

"I don't know, talking about my family. Well, my younger siblings, anyway. Try to appeal to the humanity of the Capitol."

"However much of that they have left, anyway."

Malek looks at me, slightly shocked. "Girl, talk about cynical humor. You're on a roll tonight."

I shrug. "What can I say? Stage fright doesn't exactly put me in a positive mindset." Malek puts me at ease- the only reason I can speak at all right now is because I'm standing close to the three people I trust most in this group. Malek, Sharif, and Rhea feel comfortable, I can relax enough to be a real person around them.

Onstage, though… alone with Octavius… I don't know if I'll even be able to move. I do wish we could do group interviews. If I was onstage with Sharif- or even better, my allies- I might be able to pretend I wasn't in front of the whole country.

"What do you plan on talking about?"

I shrug helplessly. "I don't know. The mentor the Capitol gave us offered some pointers, but mostly just focused on tips and tricks for managing stage fright and right now none of those feel helpful. All I can do is answer the questions Octavius throws at me and hope I don't freeze up."

Aviva's shrill voice cuts into my thoughts. "I'm the toughest outer-district girl the Games has ever seen! Despite my lowly birth, I'm prepared to fight my way out! I've dealt with shit in my life that has made me surprisingly ready for the arena!"

Her timer goes off, and the Avox stagehand reaches out to Malek. He drops his arm from my shoulders and steps up.

His hands are shaking. I reach out and squeeze my ally's hand for a moment before he's swept forward.

He turns back and offers a small, scared smile. "Thank you." Then it's time for his interview.

I step forward to fill his place, and suddenly the stomach-churning reality hits me.

I'm next. Behind me, Sharif still focuses on the television, existing somewhere far away from me. No comfort there.

This is going to be a trainwreck.

VALERIE WANG, DISTRICT TEN FEMALE

I can be whoever I want to be.

All through the interview prep, Inez urged me to be myself in front of the Capitol, saying that authenticity would keep me grounded even if the Capitol is full of falsehood and ostentation.

Be myself. Be myself.

As the vast audience screams and cheers for Timo, an Avox ushers me through the wings of the stage and directs me to stand just out of view. The crowd is deafening, and I know it's more people than I've ever faced in my life.

They're just painted faces. Nothing to fear. They can't hurt me now. They can only help me later on.

"From District Ten- Valerie Wang!"

A small push from the Avox and I'm walking onto the interview stage, wobbling in heels far taller than I've ever worn before. Where the backstage fans were cold on my bare shoulders, the bright lights of the main set immediately have me sweating in my spangled jumpsuit.

The lights also have the benefit of making it difficult to see the crowd. I can hear them, but the blood rushing in my ears is far louder. As far as I'm concerned, it's just me and Octavius.

"Valerie! How are you doing tonight? You look stunning!" Octavius takes my hand and directs me to sit in the chair next to him.

"Call me Val!" I say, offering what I hope is a charming smile.

"Val it is! Now, I'm sure you know what we've all been wondering. Why did you, a girl from Ten, volunteer?"

I take a deep breath and say it loud and clear, just like I practiced with Inez. "For the girl I loved."

The crowd sighs a deep collective "aww", and then Octavius says "Oh, wonderful! If you go home, I'm sure she'll be glad to see you." I allow his words and the supportive energy of the audience to strengthen me.

"I hope so, Octavius." That's the honest truth, on far more levels than I'd like to admit.

"So, we heard rumors of alliances from other tributes. Any insights into the dynamics of your group?"

And just like that, we've moved on. Gotta say, I love it. I force myself to swallow my anxiety and shift into Games mode, as I've started thinking of it. The part of me that focuses on surviving in the here-and-now. "I don't want to give too much away, but I feel secure with my allies. We offer each other strength, and there's not much else I could ask for at this point." I don't want to give the names of my allies- neither Althea or Aviva did, and I don't want the Capitol audience or the Careers to put it together that I got the lowest training score of the group. Not that a five is bad, it's just not special.

"Ohoho, strength, you say? Do you consider yourself a threat in the arena?"

I wonder if the Careers will see this. "I won't be able to say until I see the arena, but I'll just say this: keep an eye on me. I could surprise you come tomorrow!"

A bluff. I'm counting on my allies to provide a far better show- I don't have the same combat skills or raw anger. What I do have is the awareness to know that and a plan to let them create the drama while I call the shots.

Soon enough, my interview is over and I wave to the crowd as I step confidently offstage. Easier than expected. The Capitol audience was the opposite of the paralyzing force I was expecting it to be.

And I got to be myself. A different self- one who could take the reins and speak the truth.

Aspen takes my place with Octavius and I move to the holding room to watch the screens. Mary Sue is the last member of our group to go on, and I want to see what she has to say. I think she's smart enough to not spill the beans on our group of four, but a part of me needs to make sure.

The Capitol seems to be completely turned off by Aspen's rambling about his schizophrenia. Octavius cuts in, questioning some of the specifics, but that doesn't stop my single-minded district partner. The more he talks about hearing voices and different personalities, the less the Capitol responds.

As I watch, Octavius turns to the side and whispers something to a production assistant. The words aren't caught by the microphone, but I think he said something like 'I don't think this boy knows the first thing about mental health'.

I cringe internally, but try to look at the bright side. If Aspen fails too miserably, any District Ten sponsor money is more likely to go to me. Inez doesn't want to play favorites, but she knows better than any that only one person survives the Games.

I really do want that to be me. As much as people like Mary Sue have been kind to me, they have to die for me to live.

The kids from Eleven are being interviewed, by my mind drifts. My allies have put so much thought into how we'll survive the Games as a group, but we haven't touched on what happens when the tribute pool shrinks. When we eventually start to fall. When we might split.

Could I kill one of them? Althea and Aviva, I want to say yes since I don't know them as well, but Mary Sue has been a stabilizing force for me. I couldn't hurt her, could I?

I hope I won't have to. I hope it won't be my problem to deal with.

As I shake the gruesome thought out of my mind, Mary Sue steps onto the stage in a gorgeous pink gown. She waves at the audience, and they lose their minds. The camera pans over groups of Capitolites with huge signs that have Mary Sue's face on them. She's a favorite for sure—I'm proud she's my ally. It makes me feel worth a little more to be associated with her.

"Hello, Octavius!" she chirps before the man can greet her. He beams.

"It's wonderful to meet you in person, Miss Jamison. What lovely eyes you have!"

She bats her lashes at the camera. "Why, thank you! Purple's a very uncommon color."

"Capitol residents would kill for that look!"

She laughs, probably charming every person who watches the broadcast. "Aren't you all glad you don't have to? Starting tomorrow, that's my job!" I wince at her blunt reminder.

She's the Capitol darling; they're wrapped around her little finger. Octavius mock-gasps. "Why, Mary Sue! What a forward statement! Are you really prepared for that?"

She shrugs. "Of course! I'm more than ready to provide the entertainment and sacrifice of the Games for you lovely folks. You all saw my score of eight- very high for a poor girl from Twelve who volunteered for her twelve-year-old sister, isn't it? I believe that proves my point." The entertainment of the Games? Is that what she really thinks of all this? Is she lying for the crowd?

"Yes, very impressive indeed! And it's refreshing to meet a tribute who really understands the purpose of these Games."

She smiles, a toothy grin that's more performative than honest. "Why, Octavius, how could I possibly forget the honorable and illustrious history of Panem? I know why I'm here."

Since a few people mentioned this concept, I guess I can talk about it? Just my personal response. Anyway, how does one decide how to assign POVs? Personally, I have a notebook where I lay out a skeleton format (how many POVs per chapter for all the pre-Games content). After I accept my slate of tributes, I make notes on basic ideas. What scenes would provide the best opportunity to introduce characters (e.g. Shelby in bed with two other people, Calandra falling asleep in the orchard), and which scenes work together to tell a full chronological story? Since I do pre-reaping introductions for each tribute, I pick alliances after I wrote the reaping chapters (so I had a feel for each character and how they'd work together). Alliances form for so many different reasons- comparing similar characters, contrasting different characters, plot devices, etc, there's really no wrong answers as you have some sort of in-story rationalization. Then I figured out which alliances would form on which day. From that plotline and from certain ideas I wanted to do for Capitol scenes (Kepler's token during train rides, the gay connection between Eliana and Val, etc.), I assigned training and Capitol POVs.

After I had some basic ideas and the POV order, I looked at what I could reveal about each character. For some characters, like we've seen with Val, knowing the context of their backstory is necessary to their character moving forward so there's more of a pressing need to reveal it. For others, like Eliana, you know there's something there but the details aren't relevant yet. For some characters, I doubt I'll ever reveal their entire truth, because it won't ever be necessary. Characters are icebergs: what you see is rarely all there is to them. A special note for trauma: in my onion, you rarely need to reveal the entire horrible truth of a character's past- clues are enough for the audience to get the point, and what really matters is how their past has shaped them and affects their current actions. I have no personal interest in hearing all about the upsetting things that characters went through unless it's relevant to the story in some way. If you're revealing a terrible history for the shock factor, it toes the line of trauma porn and does nothing for the story.

Okay. Getting off my soapbox now.

The base question on which all my decisions operate is this: What story do I want to tell, and what is necessary to get the narrative across? This is true in every medium of creative writing. The format above is what works best for me right now, and it can be different for everyone and even every story. Formatting is something that can just be so personal!

Cool. Okay! I'm more than willing to talk writing/character stuff with anyone, feel free to PM me or drop questions in reviews at any time! We have such a big community of writers and such great opportunities to learn from each other! I love hearing everyone's opinions about writing!

Happy to say that there's ONE MORE CHAPTER til the bloodbath!

Questions:

If you were the interviewer, what's one question you would ask the tributes?

How are y'all doing? Holding up during quarantine? Finishing out the school year? Personally I'm making my family watch Avatar: The Last Airbender.

Drop a review and let me know!