Tag: dialogue

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Marrow’s Next Step, Edited

A little housekeeping to start off the day then the good stuff.  A little transposition got me off in my day count at the beginning of this 2009 revival of 1000 Days.  I corrected that yesterday, so you no longer need to worry about the missing 100 days.

I don’t normally resort to gimmicky writing exercises like I did last night when perfectly good blather is to be had by the fire-hoseful.  I enjoy porting artistic practices to my writing where I can.  If you didn’t follow the link in yesterday’s post and then follow the link in that post over to Gorilla Artfare then you should click on this one to see what a skilled artist can do with 30 seconds of time.

Now that I’m back to writing and not doing so much screwing around with the layout I too am annoyed by the purple links and the poorly executed text-color contrast.  Usually my interstitial commentary is grey while the text you’re meant to read is nicely black.  I’ll do something about that when I can.

Last week I promised weekends would be for editing.  Today minus two-hundred days provides me with a day called “Marrow’s Next Step“.

“If you thirst, quench your spirit. Your body will wait.” My forearms lean on the lentil of the low door. I’m adjusting to the light and being upright.

“Is it true,” he asks.

“You cannot know the key and not know the truth.”

“I’m a skeptic, not a coward.”

“There’s a difference?”

I shuffle into my small home, surprised his presence doesn’t feel intrusive. After this many years alone I expected some annoyance. I motion to the barrel and the dipper; he waves a no. Zealot. “When I’m thirsty I don’t kneel.” I dip out two cups and force his into his hands. “Drink it and wait.”

“If you thirst, first quench your spirit. Your body will wait.” I support my weight by pressing my forearms into the lentil of the low door.  My eyes adjust to the darkness inside and my guts to being upright.

“Is it true?” he asks.

I consider dissembling or, more simply, pretending I didn’t hear.  Instead I answer as he before me answered: “You cannot speak the key and also not believe.”

“I’m a skeptic, not an Unbeliever…or a coward.”

“There’s a difference?”

I shuffle into my small home, surprised his presence doesn’t feel intrusive. After so many years alone I expected some annoyance. I pull the dipper from it’s perch on a rafter and  motion to to the water barrel; he flicks his hand to indicate no. Zealot.

“When I’m thirsty I don’t kneel.” I dip out two cups and force his into his hands. “Drink it and wait.”

There wasn’t much text to work with here–this post is the extension of the day’s prior post.  Unsurprisingly it relies on that post for much context.  Mostly I feel the first effort was overly cryptic in the narration.  It’s suitable for the dialog to be cryptic, but not the narrator’s thoughts–at least, not too much.

I’m still not happy about the “Zealot” thought in there, but I’m not sure how to get that across.  This seems like the kind of thing my narrator would immediately think, but not something he’d think much about to get to that conclusion.  So ultimately I’ve got to pre- or post-explain why not drinking the water makes the son a zealot.  It would help if I knew.

Day 331
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Interrupting Mrs. Xenoworth

I have not visited Mr. Johnathan Goffe is quite some time.  I’d like to see what he’s up to this morning.  Last I recall he was headed to some part of town to get some film for his camera.

Grandma followed a different magic than my sister.  Grandma’s enchantments harnessed a deeper power, but they were fickle and often [unspecific].  Jennetta may stalk the hereditary manse[?] presiding over friend and foe alike while Nonni putters in the Old-old Conservatory, but give me the least of Nonni’s spells over the best of Netti’s—I’ll be happy.  I left the leaves in their packet and returned to the lane under my own direction.

:?camera requires film,: I ask the camera.

:.camera requires film,: it replies.

:?list film shops, sort by proximity, with directions relative to the Book Gate:

:.danforth Road Photography (0.26 miles, 11.5°)
:,[something that sounds like a mini-mall] (0.84 miles, 85.5°)
:,bonar Balfour: Haberdasher & Milliner (2.67 miles, 127.3°):

:?haberdasher: I’m trying to imagine a shop that sells clothing, woman’s hats, and photography supplies. As well as decide if I want to go that far out of my way.

:.public inventory all known stock sizes and custom cutting services:

:?stocking men’s hats also: I could really use a new hat.

:.affirmative:

:.map it; call in the quickest order to fill; shut-down:

I stop listening before the camera acknowledges my requests. I need to think.

Bonar Balfour’s resides in a narrow alleyway off Bent Street.  Bent is already a subsidiary outlet of the main circle of shops in Surland Wood, so Balfour’s nicely secluded and separate.  Mr. Goffe is glad to have come the extra distance.  Even before he swings the wood and crystal paned door inward he’s thinking this is his new camera shop—providing they actually have what he needs.  The pleasant trinkle of the bell as the  door glides open on well oiled brass hinges and the top edge strikes the clapper confirms his tentative decision.

“Excuse me a moment please Mrs. Xenoworth.  I need to greet the gentleman.”  A younger tinker smiles brightly as further apology for the conflicting requirements of politeness.  Mrs. Xenoworth pats him on the shoulder pushing him in the direction of the door.

“Go.  I’ll be here deciding a bit yet anyway.”  The boy thanks her in a whisper then departs.

“Good afternoon, sir.  I am Ben Balfour.  My father is still preparing your order and will be out front shortly.  Can I offer you a cup of tea while you wait mister…?”  Ben waits for me to fill in my name.  My camera certainly relayed that information when placing the order and it’s unlikely anyone in this town does not know me by appearance.  It’s polite to pretend.  I ignore him as is also polite, instead addressing the older woman.

“Madam, my apologies for the intrusion on your shopping.  I won’t keep Ben long.”  I clasp my hands and make a short bow.

:,arrange for her purchases today: I command Camera.  My predilection for going among the people like a commoner often result in these sorts of disruptions.  Camera runs a routine that negotiates with the shop’s system to pay for Mrs. Xenoworth’s good.  I’m guessing Balfour’s will smooth over that audacity of my presumption by making the offer to her themselves without my appearing to be involved at all.  This will likely result in my order for film being gratis.  Blah blah blah.

Day 306

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Speaking of the Third Wheel

I write bad guys infrequently, but I have written about writing them a couple times.  A common situation I have not written not written about writing at all is dialogue with more than two people.  This morning I explore archetypal third speakers.

These speaking roles just come to me as I write them.  I’ve got no plan and make no assurances to the completeness or accuracy of the list.

Agreer – this is the ‘me too’ voice of the conversation.  They serve no purpose in the conversation content but to reflect one of the two main speaker’s already made points.  As repetitive as it may be for the conversation itself, for the story it can be useful in many ways.  The third voice adds color to an otherwise factual conversation.  Aping the material for laughs or for reducing the impact of those facts.  Emphasizing the content by providing timely and wise reinforcement.  Or simple staking the odds against the second speaker.

The agreer probably needs to be a secondary or tertiary character employed more as a foil than a main actor in the story.  What symbolic role they represent will be how the first speaker’s words will be interpreted when the original speaker is unable to produce that effect on their own.

The Nag – Like the agreer but clearly devoted to a specific speaker.  Essentially this role is an external conscience or simply a functionary of the plot.  As  functionary of the plot—”Be careful that plate is hot,” said the waitress—the content of their contributions holds less importance than the timing of their contributions.  Over used these could become deus ex machina.

Interrupter – The first and second speaker attack each other directly from opposite sides of an argument, the Interrupter tries to disrupt the conversation.  The intent of the third person may not be what they accomplish.  Their attempts meant to cool an argument may heat it up by simply annoying one or both primary speakers.  Alternately the Interrupter may help each primary speaker see the absurdity of the argument.

Distracter – This role parallels much of the interrupter’s effects but in the opposite manner.  While the interrupter inserts points into the conversation trying to be part of the activity, the distracter pulls the two primaries away from the conversation toward a new target.

Well this will need polishing it may never get.  Plus I’ve concocted but not created some images to go with each of these.  I didn’t even get to the hole class of third voices that contribute equally to the conversation but from a fully formed and independent third perspective—probably because I think those are the hardest to write.

Day 304