Not actually mysterious

yall we did it

I was trained in the dark arts of the cover letter by my mother, who is a hiring manager. And her training has paid off: I've been consistently told my cover letters are excellent. Let me pass on the wisdom.

The job of a cover letter is to give a prospective employer strictly more information than is on the resume. This is where you take the resume contents and put them into context. You look at the job requirements (you are looking at the job requirements before applying, right?) and look at your resume and ask the question (in your head) "why would a person think this candidate would be good for this job?" and your cover letter is the answer to that question. If you don't answer that question, the hiring manager is going to have to do it themselves, and you have way more information to work with than they do.

This is especially important if you're moving from one industry to another, because then the relevant connections aren't obvious. It's also very important if you're overqualified, because then you can use the letter to say "I know it looks like this job would be too entry-level for me, but I'm interested to pursue it for reasons x, y, and z". You can also use this space to explain away something that might otherwise be disqualifying, like job-hopping or a long break in employment. The tone to strike here is always matter-of-fact and constrained to topic - don't go into detail about health stuff or personal tragedy, just tell them what they need to hear: that this period of your resume was affected by [bad thing] but that it's now in the past and you're looking forward to the next chapter. Remember, one of the things they're trying to learn is whether you'd be content in this role, or whether you'd be miserable and leave after 2 months, which would force them to do all the work of hiring again. You're trying to establish that you will fit right in and not cause problems. Knowing what drew you to this job in particular (and don't just say 'money', that's true for everyone) helps with that.

getting yourself out of the hole is hard, and can feel damn near impossible at your lowest. but it isn’t impossible. i am living proof of this. nobody is responsible for your emotions but you, and if you want to be happy, you have to create your happiness. do whatever you can to surround yourself with joy. not hedonism, but actual joy. accomplishments, good relationships, engagement in healthy hobbies and habits. it can be hard, there’s no denying it, i still struggle myself sometimes. the reward is so worth it. feeling like you’re the best version of yourself is so worth it.

Hart was on testosterone, legally changed his name, and had gotten a hysterectomy (that was described as "unfortunate" by the Right to Privacy gay and lesbian political action committee), making him the first documented trans man to transition in the USA, yet he was characterized as a lesbian woman because cis gays and lesbians had the nerve (when do they NOT have the nerve, dare I say) to think they had the right to "honor [his] life as a woman" by having fundraiser dinners with his deadname attached to them, having college lectures where they talked about him as a lesbian hero, and using she pronouns for him until 2000. The USAmerican trans community, including trans activist Lou Sullivan, had to fight to defend Hart's identity and to have his manhood recognized by the wider community by protesting these lectures and dinners and having a conversation with the Portland chapter of the Lesbian Avengers association, which ended up having a favorable response and joining the trans community in the battle.

I want to end this by reporting the words of Candice Hellen Brown, a trans woman from Portland who wrote a letter to Just Out magazine in 1994 defending Hart's transness:

The Right to Privacy Political Action Committee in Oregon has a big fundraiser every year that is called the [deadname] Hart Dinner. When asked if I am going, I indignantly answer, "Not until they stop using the wrong name and gender for one of our heroes!" His name is Alan [. . .] He never wavered from his identity as a man, and upon his death, his widow continued to insist that he was a man. Why would such a straight man be called a lesbian by the gay community when today we would certainly call him a female-to-male transsexual? [. . .] He was transsexual or, at least, a transgenderist - a true pioneer. One who is seen as a hero by today's transsexual community. Please don't let him be taken away from us by allowing his old name to be used as though it were a badge of honor.

The thing is, in any RPG, the protagonist is often meant to be a bit of a blank slate, with room to implement one's own OC, personality, and headcanons. The fact that game dialogue can sometimes feel noncommittal, or the fact that the responses can vary so widely, speaks to this: you can be anyone, so you are not forced to be any one thing specifically.

But when you carry that OC with you, out of that game? The role of the protagonist in the narrative shifts: it is yours. It belongs not to everyone (which is how they build the game) but to you, to your iteration and interpretation of the game's events. The protagonist goes from being the vessel through which we experience the story to being the main character of a narrative.

When we write, then (though this is also true for non-writers with OCs!) the protagonist - be they Tav, Rook, the Inquisitor, the Rogue Trader, anything - benefits from having more detail, and especially more extravagant detail. They are (most often) the POV character of the narrative. They are the lens through which we, as readers in fandom, experience your story.

So yes: make them special.

Yes: make them unhinged.

Yes: make them go on whatever emotional journey you like.