Storms (A Star Wars Fanfic)

2022-Author's Reflection and Bonus Content

Hi, all. It's skywalkerstudios. I just wanted to say thank you to all readers of Storms who have come back again and again over the years to revisit this story. Almost every day since 2016 I've gotten at least one comment per day and it delights me to no end that people are still so invested in this story.

I'm 23 now and I reread this the other day, fully, for the first time. I am heading toward a degree in English literature and hoping to intern at a publishing company here at some point. I am a published poet and a writer with an excellent reputation. Being myself with the knowledge of language I have now, reading this was sometimes a hate crime toward myself. I used so many words over and over again and was so confused as to how I didn't notice that repitition before (why did I love the word "immense" so much?!) My punctuation is straight fucked at times. Also, all-caps for yelling makes me cringe. I get that it fit, but my god. If there was ever an identifier that I wrote this at 17, there it is.

But after giving my past self a chance, I read through the whole thing, out loud to myself in my college dorm, and I saw what made it special to me and so many others. Firstly I was really proud of past me for being so dedicated to continuity. I remember keeping pretty close track of what I had already said, and making sure that whatever I wrote had a consequence, even if it wasn't immediate. Alongside that, I remember I really wanted the story to be predictable, but fun as hell. This story is as formulaic as they come, and that's what I like about it so much. Even though I had some grammatical problems and cheesy writing at times, I have to say my 17 year-old self did well. Of course it helped a shit-ton that I was super in love with Luke Skywalker (a bitch still is—that rendering of him in Book of Boba Fett? I swear to god). Since I have been so far removed from this story by time, I felt like someone reading it for the first time, and I was blessed to discover that I was so invested in the characters and the romantic arc. 17 year-old skywalkerstudios, this shit was fire, and I am glad that she decided to share this with the Star Wars community.

Now to the fun part. After Storms was finished, I still had a lot of love to give. So I wrote again, in hopes of a sequel of sorts, but I just could not make it past the first chapter. I could never finish it now, now that I'm not as big a fan of Star Wars as I was in high school, so do not expect more than this. But I wrote a pretty good-sized first chapter that I think you all will enjoy, as I wrote it pretty much right after I finished Storms, and was still in the thick of my love for Luke and Star Wars. So here it is, a gift from me to you, for the happiness you have given me in all those seemingly insignificant comments and votes and adds-to-reading-lists—that something I was so in love with and was so passionate about was just as important and loved by other people is something that really taught me something about what being a writer means. It may be just a Wattpad story to some, but not to me. So thank you. Entirely unedited first draft of the first chapter of the nonexistent sequel to Storms...here you go.

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Upon walking into your hotel suite, your mouth dropped open and your  droopy eyes widened in wonder. It was a one-bedroom suite (Han had been given one called "The Mad Gungan", which he had been unimpressed with), apparently the "best in the hotel!" according to the bellhop, who had helped the three of you with your bags after removing the droid from their company. And he seemed to be right, by the look of the place.

The focal point of the sitting room was an enormous glass window which substituted as a wall for the suite. It gazed out at the many skyscrapers and neon signs, inspiring whoever looked through it. The lounge itself had incredibly high ceilings and a few comfortable-looking couches sat around in a circle at the center of the floor. Tall, curved arches sprang from the carpeted ground to meet in the middle of the ceiling, giving the illusion that the entire room was circular. It was elegant, yet simple. Except for the luxuries, that is: the bathrooms housed the softest towels you had ever felt, the refrigerator was stuffed to the brim with various meals and delicacies (not to mention the entirely cost-free room service), and the soft bed was covered in silky, heavy blankets and down pillows.