"The desert bears only a scathing sun, and nothing more."
"What about mirages?"

Saturday, November 14, 2009

The Whims of My Heart.

"You're twisted, but utterly whimsical. Did you know that?"

"No. What's this all about?"

"I don't know, it's just the way I feel in my heart."

"Your heart makes you say that?"

"No, you make me say that, because you're so perverse, and so aribitrary. Maybe you're just sadistic, I don't know."

"Maybe you're a masochist."


"Well, make up your mind. Is it your heart or I that makes you say such things?"

"It's my heart, but only because you've got yourself twined so tightly around it."

- - -

Taadaa! Dialogue at it's finest and it's worst! Maybe I should write a play. Or maybe not. Ahh, the whims of a writer's heart. The need to be recognized is there, but there's also the unwant to be type-casted, or worse! To become the next Stephanie Meyer! Oh, what's a talent to do?

Okay, enough with the ego. I'm quite proud of this peice, actually. I wanted do something with a character who struggles with emotions. And then, after they've finished struggling with emotions, they get to struggle with telling people about those emotions. Ahh, I love characterization. Be on the lookout for more of this.

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"Write with our backs to the wind and our faces to the hard, bleaching sun."