As part of the lead-up to Insurgent ’s publication, I agreed to retell a scene from Divergent from a different point of view: Four’s. Part of what makes Four interesting as a character, to me, is this wall he puts up between himself and other people. Writing from his perspective meant taking down that wall to see what was really behind it, which I thought would be difficult. Strangely, it wasn’t. I think I spent a lot more time in Four’s head than I realized, though I was always writing from Tris’s perspective. I sort of knew how he sounded and what he thought about things. (Obviously it still took a lot of work, but I wasn’t stuck like I thought I might be.) The biggest challenge was actually choosing the right scene—one that could give the most interesting insights into his character and his relationships. I really wanted to choose something that would change our (I say “our” because it changed mine, too) perceptions about the story and show how limited Tris’s perspective really is, though she is a reliable and observant narrator. I went through the whole book with sticky notes, searching for my best options, and I vacillated between two of them for about a day before landing on the right one. they definitely surprised me.
— Veronica Roth
FREE FOUR: TOBIAS TELLS THE DIVERGENT STORY
It’s always good to see a story written from the perspective of another main character. While I would have loved to see Tobias’s side during the Divergent epic, it was good that an addition came out that helped fill some missing gaps. This story deals with the Knife Throwing scene and can be found in the Google Play library to read for free.
She stands with her back to the board. The top of her head skims the bottom of the target center. She tips her chin up and looks at me with that Abnegation stubbornness I know so well. She may have left them, but they are what’s making her strong.
But Peter’s right, she’s not pretty , that word is too small. She is not like the girls I used to stare at, all bend and curve and softness. She is small but strong, and her bright eyes demand attention. Looking at her is like waking up.
“I am not sadistic.” I lean closer to her and suddenly I feel nervous, like something is prickling in my chest. “If I wanted to hurt you, don’t you think I would have already?”