With Rogue One coming up so very soon (premiere is tonight! EEEEEEE!!!) and Episode VIII in post-production, I dodge and duck into hiding. Social media and the news has frequent reports on rumors and theories and spoilers about the films, and I don’t want to know. On my Google News feed, I have a Star Wars page and Kylo Ren page so Google finds news items for me, but I glance at them, and the moment the word “spoiler” or theory is in a headline, I move on.
Sometimes there are words that hint at what might be, or fan theories of what might be, and I don’t want to know. Like the one pictured: WHAT THE?!? When I looked at that first headline on this day’s newsfeed, I gasped. I convinced myself that it just must be a fan theory, but I wasn’t going to read that or any of these other articles to find out if I was wrong . My cupcake better not die or turn to the light side! And as much as I am ravenous for knowledge about my knights of Ren, if Episode VIII is going to tell me more about them, I want to wait.
Nor do I want to know what Kylo Ren’s mission might be or, as these headlines hint at, about Kylo Ren and Rey—if there is a relationship, it better be family and not a romantic entanglement! Rey, you keep your hands off my cupcake, girl!
Having seen the original trilogy, when first released in theaters, as an elementary school kid, in a time before the internet and cable TV, spoilers were pretty much unheard of. Perhaps in magazines and things there were spoilers or speculation, but for a kid, I didn’t really see any of that. Looking back, I know that coming into the films, with no knowledge of what might be, made the films have such an impact. Darth Vader’s entrance in A New Hope terrified me, Princess Leia changed my worldview of women, being a strong, sassy, brunette.
In The Empire Strikes Back the cutting open of the Tauntan, was shockingly gruesome (and it was fun to see my friend’s reactions during that scene when I brought my 
them to see it to celebrate my 9th birthday—my third time seeing it). I was so glad to see Darth Vader was still alive. I remember before Episode V was released there was a “Darth Vader Lives” campaign (I had my button!) because people didn’t want to think Vader was knocked out into space never to be seen again. And when Han is frozen in carbonite, my heart sank, I cried, and still cry every time I see that scene (It’s a secret I must keep to retain some dark side cred),
When Darth Vader revealed to Luke that he was his father, I experienced such shock, such disbelief, and, as a child whose favorite character was Darth Vader, a character that terrified me, I experienced, simultaneously, disgust in imagining the reality of having this villain as a dad and awe in Luke having such a cool dad. It was the first time I was submerged in utter, intense disbelief. I still throw my hands up and shout out, “whaaat!” when that happens (drives my kid crazy.).
In Return of the Jedi, I was not prepared for Boba Fett’s embarrassing demise and never felt so happy for Han and Leia to reunite (thank goodness they did or they would have never had my darling, dark side cupcake, Kylo). Although it was a satisfying ending, I felt like I was mourning because at that time, for all we knew, the saga was over.
I never got into videogames and didn’t read any Star Wars novels except Splinter of the Mind’s Eye, so I had/have a fairly film-pure understanding of Star Wars. I think the absence of anything “new” about Star Wars created a kind of absence, making my anticipation of the new films so intense. I wanted to temper that anticipation because I knew that it would be very difficult for a new Star Wars film to capture my imagination and make me feel the exact same way it did when I was a child. The Star Wars prequels set in the context of my life as an adult could not give the me the same impression and reaction.
I wanted to avoid the critiques of the prequels (before their release) based on leaked information and that the films were not following the books. And I hated that the merchandising was so gluttonously gratuitous, fodder for a hopeful feeding frenzy of fans trying to anticipate which characters would make the most valuable collectibles.
With the release of the prequels, I was in my late-20s and read a tiny bit about the films, mostly drawn to the art, smitten by Queen Amidala’s 
beautiful, inspired costumes, hair and planet. That and Darth Maul are enough to make me love The Phantom Menace. My happiness that I was going to get more information about this galaxy far, far away was all I needed from the 
prequels.
But with the prequels, it was the first time I experienced hostile comments about Star Wars directed at me because I liked to point out the good things I found in the prequels. A relative berated me for not launching, along with her, into a “it’s not like the original trilogy” tirade after seeing The Phantom Menace. I watched Attack of the Clones, my least favorite of the films, with a date—a casual fan of the saga, and he was disappointed that the film didn’t have more battle scenes a
nd felt that it was stupid to have anything about Padmé and the senate.
Watching them again in retrospect I find more I like about Revenge of the Sith than just super-fine Anakin waking up abruptly from a bad dream, all shirtless…heaving up on that huge IMAX screen. That scene forced from my friend and me both, an audible gasp and a “oh, hello.”
The level of over-merchandising with the prequels set a precedent for The Force Awakens as well, with Kylo Ren’s masked face and lightsaber and BB8 plastered on everything from tangerines, bottled water, BBQ tongs, pool toys, selfie sticks, etc., before the film was released. And in searching for Kylo Ren merchandise for myself, I find so much made for little kids not adults. Having Kylo Ren marketed to little kids still seems odd to me. Kylo Ren pajamas are sold at Pottery Barn Kids in size 2T-8. Really? Parents want pictures of a twisted, patricidal bastard (albeit a damn sexy, delicious, sexy one) on the pajamas of their little toddlers? I want those pajamas!
With The Force Awakens, I watched the trailers, but I didn’t watch any interview, did not read any social media rumors or speculations, and did not read any articles about what was to come. I delighted in coming to the film with no preconceptions, and, again, was hit with complete shock, more with this film than with Episode V because I am adult and processed the complexities, when I learned who
Kylo Ren’s parents were. Seeing him unmasked (gush, sigh) created a raging conflict of intense lust and hatred that I am currently, and delightfully wrestling with in a research essay, and hit with shock and grief when Kylo Ren killed Han Solo.
But just like with the prequels people were negative and against, seemingly hurt by the film. And after the film, came more hostility, people so angry about the film and angry at me for liking it, for loving it. I understand their viewpoints, but I should be allowed to also have my own informed reasons for my preferences, without being told that I’m not a true fan among other more personal insults.
And now with Rogue One, I watch the trailers but avoid the spoilers, articles, interviews, 
speculation, merchandising (although, I know I’ve blown chances to get some good collectibles) because I don’t want to know! Even now, thankfully, there is a Star Wars marathon on TV to keep me from watching the premiere and the red carpet banter that might reveal a detail that I don’t want to know, yet.
But people are already critiquing a film that hasn’t been released; their critiques coming from spoilers, speculation and theories, it seems. I saw someone post an angry comment about Darth Vader being in Rogue One, very 
upset and already arguing against Vader having a huge presence in the film. Maybe a spoiler revealed how much Vader will be in the film, but isn’t context needed? I would need to see the film before I decided how much Vader their should be. And what does “too much Vader” mean? I understand the words, but that sentence expresses a foreign concept.
Star Wars made such an impression on me at such a young age; they aren’t just films, they are part of my memories with my late dad, who took us to see the films because they had many of the same appealing features as his favorite WW2 movies, memories of my late mother, who enjoyed them, mostly because of Harrison Ford, memories of my big sister and little brother, we still can have conversations purely in Star Wars dialogue. They are an immersive memory linked to other memories in my life, a reflection, reaction to, response to society and American culture at the time. It is why I spend so much time caring for, curating that memory and coming to episodes made beyond VI with such care and a positive frame of reference.
Being critical of fiction is second nature for me because of my education and career as an English professor. Analysis and criticism is what I do. And Star Wars, I defend. I don’t pretend that there aren’t awful things about the prequels, things I take issue with in Episode VII, and having re-experienced the original trilogy for 39 years, now, things I see as weaknesses in those films. I am not looking at the films as flawless. I just prefer to focus on the things that keep me delighted, in that place of wonder, that feeling of home, which is why Star Wars is so integral to my life.
But I don’t feel like I get to have ownership over the Star Wars universe or feel entitled to a say in how it all turns out—although I act like I do sometimes, in jest—that the story can’t be taken in new directions, even of those directions turn out disastrous. Works of fiction evolve with each audience, generation, state of the world, and I accept that it will change, and if a change is disagreeable to me, I don’t insult those who like it, I won’t trash the entire saga or feel slighted or betrayed by its authors.
The Star Wars saga is strong enough to withstand the good and not-so-good creations that it inspires. Stories written after the original trilogy, whether I think they’re well done or not, cannot ruin my experience of the Star Wars universe or make me angry because I control my reaction. I choose the focus, the point of view, so it’s a positive experience.
I constantly question my devotion of time and energy to this fictional galaxy, that I could be using it for other, more noble endeavors. But Star Wars keeps me ethically grounded, makes me a critical thinker, gives me practice standing up for something I believe it, exercises my analysis skills, practices my synthesis skills as I see parallels with the films and society, forces me to see flaws and weaknesses in something I hold up so high on a pedestal and be comfortable with that.
This feeling of having a relative tabula rasa going into the theatre allowed the films to have such an impact on me that I want this same opportunity when I see Episode VIII and Rogue One. I know how difficult it will be to stay untainted, unless I cut myself off from the Internet, which won’t happen, but I will try. I will don the helmet and pull down my blast shield.
oing a handstand while you walkyour legs up and down the wall) despite feeling certain that my arms would give out and I would land on my face, but I survived, face intact. But the feeling that I should have waited more than an hour after eating a chicken salad was intensified as it tried to come back up. “Arise, chicken. Arise.” (Thank you AQHF for allowing me to amuse myself there.) 
Being an elder squire for the Knights of Ren, I am more prone to injury than some of my other dark side devotees. A recently healed hip flexor injury as well as a diagnosis of degenerative arthritis in my left hip have me on a quest to prepare for running the 
I let my sources of bliss be taken by depression. Passion felt like a foreign concept, a dangerous place for those who follow the path of the dark side. 
cebook page). 
for a moment and tries to belittle her by bringing up the map, “somehow you convinced the droid to show it to you. You…,” punctuated with his kiss-able pout, “…a scavenger….” Then he looks her in the eye and threatens (promises?), “you know I can take whatever I want.” And as a young, hormonal male, he knows exactly the different meanings one might infer. Those of us in the audience, who were already drooling, gushing over him at this point, declare, “Yes, please do!” and have 
pertinent. Star Wars started with Episode IV, so there is no reason for me to begin at the beginning of the books either chronologically in the Star Wars universe or the publishing world. I thought I wanted such a moment to be special, a carefully choreographed, orderly, calculated event, an easing into a new phase in one’s life, but where is the thrill in that? 
Diary of a Sith Chick 
