Sunday September 21st, 2008

The exercise:

Using my writers group prompt from this morning: write a conversation with one of the characters in a story you have written/are writing.

Mine:

"We need to talk, Mister Writerman."

"Okay," I replied, "what do you want to talk about?"

"My life and what you're doing with it."

Uh oh.

"Well, listen -"

"No no, you listen," he interrupted sharply. "You think that you're my God or something, your wish is my command right? Well let me ask you this - why didn't you make me rich, with a beautiful wife and fast cars?"

"Well, that wouldn't be very interesting," I said. "I find rich people rather boring."

"Oh, so you made me a drunken, doped up bum for your own entertainment?"

"Hey - you're clean now and you even have a proper job!"

"Ah yes, my place of work... where my 'friend' Tommy showed up and waved a gun in my face!" he yelled, his face turning an alarming shade of red.

"Yes, but that all worked out alright in the end, didn't it?"

"Right - because my previously unknown sister tricked him into it since she wants me dead! What does next week have in store, the black plague?"

"That's a bit much... I was thinking more like you'd get beat up a bit when the store got robbed -"

"I quit."

"What? You can't quit! Get back here!"