7. Shar: Don’t Drink and Dream
We don’t really have a plan for this blog, as you’ve probably noticed so if you were expecting scenes in order, lower those expectations. Lani and Krissie are working on their solo books (and so am I, 15K and counting here) but I have two scenes that aren’t quite right yet so I’m going to keep going. After the Kami scene, Daisy takes Bailey outside and fixes her shoe, and Abby takes Beastie with her to deliver some pastry for a party in the math building, and Shar walks home with Wolfie . . .
By the time Shar and Wolfie had finished their walk to the two-story step-temple that was the Sippar family home, she had reviewed the class, summarized her thoughts and come to the conclusion that . . .
Well, she didn’t have a conclusion, aside from the part where she was stuck with a new goddess which shouldn’t have made any difference except now, suddenly, she wanted to finish the–
Wolfie yanked on his leash and she let go of it so he could run inside ahead of her, more frantic than usual. He ran throughout the downstairs, in and out of the living room, the kitchen, the dining room, her mother’s old bedroom, while Shar detoured around the massive couch that was in the wrong place and dropped her keys and bag beside the phone. Her answering machine had a glowing “2†on it, but given her life it couldn’t be anything exciting so . . .
She went out to the kitchen where Wolfie was slurping water from his dish, and saw that the walls there were still only half-painted, several different shades of beige over stone gray. They’d been that way for a year and a half while she tried to choose a beige, but now it bothered her. It should be finished. She poured a glass full of Kami’s Kool-aid, picked up the glass and the bottle, and followed Wolfie back to the living room where he sat down to use his back leg to scratch his ear, pausing momentarily as he was distracted by his crotch.
Nobody could concentrate tonight.
She pushed the message button, and heard a voice she didn’t recognize say, ““Hey, Professor Sippar, this is Dog Essen. I think you screwed up grading my Mesopotamian Goddesses test. I put Hera down here and you marked it wrong. We gotta fix this so I can play football. I’m gonna come see you in the office tomorrow so you can change this. Thanks.â€
“Hera was Greek,†Shar said to the answering machine and drank some Kool-aid.
It beeped again and Ray’s voice began to speak. “Sharlotte? Pick up, please.†He waited a few seconds and then said, “Okay, fine. I won’t be over tonight. I’m showing the new assistant prof in Middle Eastern languages around. If you’ll pick up the phone, I’ll explain.â€
“Ah, yes, the new girl,†Shar said to the machine as Ray talked on. She took another swig. This was her life, trying to convince Dog Essen that all goddesses were not created equal and listening to Ray trying to break up with her without actually breaking up with her. “My life sucks,” she said to Wolfie, who was growling at Ray’s voice on the machine.
Wolfie’s growl at the machine rose to a bark: “Don’t like you.â€
“What?†Shar said, startled.
Wolfie looked up and her and barked, “Dump him.â€
Shar sat down hard in her desk chair and stared at her talking dog as Ray mumbled something about seeing other people. “Wolfie?â€
“Rat fink loser,†Wolfie growled to the answering machine.
“You can talk?” Shar shook her head to clear it, and then looked at the glass in her hand, and relaxed in relief. “Oh. Wow. This stuff is powerful. I thought I heard you talking.â€
“You did.”
“Funny,” Shar said and drank again.
Ray had been yammering on, evidently waiting for her to pick up the phone, but now he gave up. “Fine, be passive aggressive.†His sigh telegraphed his immense patience with her.
“This isn’t passive aggressive,†Shar said as the machine recorded his hang up. “This is lack of interest. You gave me a taser, you jerk.â€
“Har, har,†Wolfie barked.
Shar grinned at him. Making your dog laugh. Good times. She took another drink. “I need to make some changes in my life. Get some new people. Kami was right about Daisy and Abby. I think we should go back to the class.â€
“Not going back,†Wolfie growled. “Bad there. Doesn’t smell right. Ummi. Bikki. Weird.”
“You should talk.†She topped up her glass and took it and the bottle with her as she walked into her dining room to the massive table where the notes for her book were spread out. They were gonna spread some more, too, if she had to add Kammani-Gula to the pile.
Monotheism, she thought as she looked at her life’s work. That would have been a good thing for the Mesopotamians to try
She drank some more Kool-aid and thought about how tired she was of writing that damn book.
“I could get a new job,†she told Wolfie. “I could . . .†Well, actually, she couldn’t. She’d been trained to be a history professor and she was damn good at it, but that was about it. The only other profession she knew really well was Mesopotamian goddess worship. “I’d make a hell of a priestess.â€
“No, no, NO.â€
Shar frowned at him. “I had no idea you were this emotional.”
“It’s bad there. We’re not going back. I’m not going back. You’re not going back.” His barking reached a crescendo. “WE”RE NOT GOING BACK.”
Shar shook her head at Wolfie. “You’re overwrought. It’s because you’re a dachshund.” She drank again and walked up the worn stone steps into the smaller second floor temple room that had been her bedroom for forty-two years.
Wolfie followed, grumbling, as she put the bottle and the glass on the nightstand next to her flashlight and the taser. Then she went into the bathroom and changed into her sensible gray flannel pajamas. When she came back into the bedroom, Wolfie was standing beside the bed.
“Up,†he barked.
She picked up his furry, squirmy little black and gray body and put him on the bed, and he nosed under the duvet.
Shar got into bed, trying not to knock his teeth out with her knee. “You’re a sweet baby, Wolfie.â€
Wolfie crawled back out from under the duvet, his big shiny brown eyes staring at her over his long black nose, his soft little upper lip quivering over his massive overbite. “Love you. Don’t go back there.â€
She made a kissing sound at him and caressed his smooth little head and thought, Why can’t men be this wonderful? Well, not the overbite, but the steady, uncomplicated, loyal love and devotion?
Instead of like Ray, who had given her a taser.
“A taser,†Shar said to Wolfie. “I tell Ray that maybe it’s not a good idea for me to live alone and instead of moving in, he gives me a taser.â€
“Jerk-face loser,†Wolfie grumbled.
The Dying God-King in the bas relief had not been a jerk-face loser. He’d looked steady. And strong. And kind of hot for somebody carved out of rock.
“Pretty sad when you start thinking bas reliefs are hot,†she told Wolfie, and he put his head on her leg and looked up at her, his eyes pleading. “I love you,†she said, scratching the top of his head.
“Love you, too. Don’t go back.†He burrowed back under the duvet.
She picked up her glass again. “Maybe just for more of this stuff?â€
“Not going back.â€
“Not even for Daisy and Abby?â€
“No. Not going back.â€
She drank again. “Sometimes I get lonely, you know.â€
“I know. Don’t go back.â€
“I mean, you’re the greatest, but sometimes I need people.†Shar finished off her glass. “Friends. Like maybe Abby and Daisy.” And maybe a man, somebody steady, somebody her age, somebody not Ray. “So where are all the good guys who’ve been around for awhile? Who speak my language? Huh?â€
“It’s bad there,†Wolfie was still whining under the duvet. “Not going back.â€
“Somebody new,†Shar said, trying not to sound drunk. “Somebody who’s not showing the new assistant prof his artifacts as we speak. Which he got on eBay and not on a dig. At least I went on digs.â€
“Stay home.†Wolfie poked his head out from under the duvet again. “It smelled funny there. Don’t go back.”
His brown eyes were so anxious and his little face was so tense that Shar stroked his head and said, “Okay, I won’t go back.â€
Wolfie relaxed and licked her hand. “Good girl. Sweet baby. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” Shar put her empty glass on the bedside table, turned out the light, and snuggled down under the covers with her dog. “My exciting days up close and personal with the ancient world are over. But it was interesting . . .â€
She slipped into sleep, images racing across her frontal lobe in fast forward, vibrant Abby and her sweet huge dog, vivid Daisy with Bailey leaping rhythmically by her side, funereal Mina whispering to her black Chihuahua, scary Kami at the altar raising her hands, weird Bikki and Ummi dancing on the tiled floor, and fierce Wolfie, whining with portent, pacing back and forth on the bed like a little black and gray, short-legged lion—
“ ‘s okay,†she murmured to him in her dreams.
“No, no, it’s bad.â€
She tossed her head and was back in her bedroom again, but now the half-forgotten patterns painted on her ceiling glowed, the big sun carved into the wall opposite the bed hummed, and the room began to shake.
Wolfie whined.
“Shhhh,†she told him, “it’s a dream,†and reached for the flashlight next to the bed, but it wasn’t there so she picked up the taser instead. Why don’t they make tasers with flashlights? she thought through the fog and rumble of the dream. Then you could see who you’re disabling. And maybe a bottle opener—
A white light whooshed up in front of her and she screamed, and then a man stood at the foot of the bed, transparent but rapidly growing more solid, a big man bathed in blue light, broad and bare-chested, his hooded eyes closed, his arms outstretched.
Wolfie screamed, “Run,” shot out from under the covers and hit the floor with a splat.
Shar put her hand over her pounding heart and caught her breath. “It’s a dream,†she called after him as he scrambled into the hall. Now would be a good time to wake up.
The man opened his eyes and the glow began to fade. “I am the God of the Summer, the Sacrifice and the Light. I am—â€
More fucking Mesopotamia.
Shar lunged forward and tasered him.
He collapsed, and she looked over the foot of the bed at his unconscious body, now mostly solid and covering a lot of her floor, still faintly glowing with that blue light.
“Sorry,†she said to him, “but I’m not going to dream about that damn book, too.â€
He looked very real lying there, almost naked. He looked good, too, broad and well-muscled. Strong. Lots of stamina. She could have done without the beard, but the rest of him was pretty much perfect.
“I’ve been looking for an interesting man with a little age on him,†she said to his beautiful, unconscious face. “But four thousand years? No.†She looked around for her significant other. “Wolfie?â€
Wolfie slunk back in. “I peed.â€
“It’s okay, honey, it’s only a dream.â€
“On the rug.†He pawed at the gray rag rug by her bed.
“It’s a dream rug.†She picked up the rug and went around the end of the bed, stepping over the god of summer to get to the door that led out onto the wide deck. She dropped the rug out there and then came back and looked at the god again.
He looked familiar, the hooded eyes, the strong nose, the thick curly black hair that crossed his forehead like little commas . . . Right, he’s the Dying God-King, she thought, relieved to recognize him. “I’m dreaming about the bas relief,†she told Wolfie, whose tail was lashing now as he stood back from the god, growling. “Great, I’m having erotic dreams about a stone wall hanging.â€
“No, you’re not.â€
“You’re right,†she said looking down at the unconscious god. “This hardly qualifies as erotic. Maybe I shouldn’t have tasered him. It might have gotten interesting.â€
“He’s real.†Wolfie ran to the door and then back to her. “Let’s go. He’s real.â€
“He’s a dream, Wolf,†she told him. “It’s the middle of the night. I don’t want to go.â€
Wolfie went to sniff the Dying God-King and then whined again. “He’s real.â€
“Okay, then.†Shar put the taser on the bedside table. “We’ll just get rid of him.†She opened the door to the deck and bent and took his wrists and tried to pull him around the bed. “God, you weigh a ton.†She tried again, shoving with her feet to get traction, dragging him slowly until he was stretched out on the deck.
“That better?†she asked Wolfie as she shut the door, out of breath from the effort. “You can’t see him now so he’s not in the dream any more. He’s gone.†She felt a little depressed about that, but she told Wolfie, “He probably wasn’t looking for a serious relationship anyway. You know those gods.â€
“Let’s go,†Wolfie whined. “Get away. Get out.â€
Shar yawned. “Nope. I’m getting some sleep. Come on, you can’t run away from everything.†She picked him up and put him on the bed and climbed in beside him, and then she settled into her pillows and fell into more dreams. She saw herself laughing with Abby and Daisy and smiled in her sleep, saw Mina and the Chihuahua laughing together—That’s not good—saw the Dying God leaning over her as Wolfie snarled and snapped, felt the god’s dark eyes hot on her, his shadow over her as he leaned closer, not touching her, and her breath came faster and the heat rose in her and—
She jerked awake, breathing hard, feeling tense and frustrated as the sun beamed into the bedroom she’d slept in since birth. Except that now, everything looked brighter, the carved sun on the wall across from her looked deeper, the stone warmer, the ancient painted patterns on the ceiling sharper, the whole room seemed to hum faintly, and as she sat up, she felt for the first time the slide of her soft, worn Egyptian cotton sheets under her hands, really felt them, and thought, Lovely. The sleek black taser was on the bedside table, just like in her dream, and when she looked down at the floor, she saw her flashlight where it must have fallen, its metallic blue gleam looking beautiful against the honey-colored hardwood. Even Kami’s blue-glazed bottle was beautiful. It’s a good day to be alive, she thought and went into the bathroom and took her shower, staying longer than usual because the water felt so amazing on her body, and then got dressed in her teaching clothes: grey pants, a beige sweater, and her grey jacket.
God, these are depressing clothes, she thought, and went downstairs.
The Dying God-King was sitting at her dining room table in a red flannel shirt, eating a muffin and reading her research.
Shar screamed.
Wolfie looked up at her and barked, “I told you so!â€
Shar heard her dog talking to her in the clear, undrunken light of day and screamed again, but he’d already gathered himself and turned to the table, his teeth bared.
“NO!†Shar said, trying to grab him just as he snarled “Die, you bastard!” and launched himself at the god.
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Love it. Love her. Love the god. Love Wolfie. Cant wait til her and the rock-god get it on.
I loved it when Wolfie confessed that he’d peed. It seems exactly what a grown-up dog, who knows better, would say. I suppose a puppy would just pee and run right through it.
As I said before, I like the sense of menace. I also like the fact that Wolfie is so sure that they shouldn’t go back. I keep worrying that he is right.
I’m not sure about dragging god-king onto the deck. That seems pretty difficultfor a half-tipsy, half dreaming person to do without waking up all the way.
Oh goodie, goodie, goodie. I’m loving this. Wolfie is great.
She should have tasered Ray. Never give a woman a weapon that she can turn against you, especially if you’re a ratfink jerk.
I’m liking this, a lot. ‘+)
Is Wolfie just afraid of change? Is that why he doesn’t like the Kammi-Gula temple? Or is he foreshadowing?
LOVE the stone god come to life. And I love Wolfie’s opinions. Great voice on that guy.
Ooh. I just went over to the ScriptFrenzy site to try to get my head into screenwriting mode, and I saw this article about writing with partners. Thought you guys, writers and commenters, might be interested.
I’m so glad you decided to share the fun book. This is great. “I peed. On the rug.” Poor dog.
When are you going to get the link onto your website? Or should I ask when is Mollie going to get the link on your website?
Ummi mentioned Wolfie’s name in the previous chapter, although not with in specific context. Do Wolfie and Ummi somehow know each other?
Excellent - his consciousness has been paying attention, so he knows how to read and to eat muffins. The stories where you have to teach the guy from another century about cars and toilets are a little trying.
Wolfie is great fun.
Kingie wears red flannel, eats muffins, and reads English. What a hoot!
Love Wolfie. I think I’d pee, too, if that happened to me.
OK, I have to be a sourpuss here. Please forgive me. I know I’m supposed to suspend reality at the door but…how can you Taser a god? He’s a GOD. Unless he was faking. Being unconcious I mean, not faking being a god. Unless he was faking that too.
I know, I know, all will be explained…
I don’t know anything about Mesopotamia, but I think that the tradtional sacral king is a mortal, as he must die to create the blessing. Shar’s houseguest might have ended up a god, or the consort of a goddess. But I would imagine that he started out as a regular, albeit hot, guy.
No, on the tasering, I figured since he was in a transitive state, if she got him before he was fully there, she could take him out. That’s why he’s still glowing when he’s on the floor.
Wolfie met Ummi at the class. They spoke. Because Wolfie doesn’t trust anybody, a hot little Temple Dog coming on to him made him nervous. They’re sort of the reverse of Shar and Sam. Both Wolfie and Shar are skeptical, Ummi and Sam very open-minded. VERY.
Mollie’s finishing up the UMF site, plus she had to stop on that for several hours because another writing partner of mine who shall be nameless decided he could do his own website and put up something that . . . let’s just leave it at, several people put out their eyes when they saw it. So Mollie and Mara swooped in and did a quick and dirty fix on that and then went back to the UMF site which is slightly overdue. I don’t think now is the time to tell her to add a link to the website.
But eventually we’re going to redo my site so I can update it. The power, the power. Also, Mollie’s really tired of updating my site.
I love new website designs. Well, I just love websites and blogs.
Where was I? Right this scene.
It’s not right yet, but I have rewritten it a thousand times. I think my problem is that classic: I’m telling the reader what I want her to know rather than what the reader wants to know. Followed by another classic: no escalating conflict. It’s Shar vs. Wolfie, but . . .
So where do you feel infodumped on? What stuff can be cut? Where’s the stuff that must be kept at all costs? HELP.
No sense of infodump, need to cut, anything like that.
The only thing I’m noticing is that your scenes feel more serious/ less lighthearted than Lani’s and Krissie’s. I thought this was supposed to be a fun outing with no worrying about publishing?
there is one thing I want changing - the type on this website is too small. I’m squinting. Can I increase it myself or is it a programming matter?
I know, it’s too small for me, too. I hit Command + and it makes it bigger on my Mac,so I’m sure PCs have something similar.
Lani’s the web goddess here. We’ll ask her if she can bump up the type on the template. I’m fairly sure she can. She can do anything.
As for more serious, I got a talking dog who pees and a tasered god. That’s about as lighthearted as I get. Maybe it’s because Shar’s the oldest at 42 (Daisy’s in her thirties and Abby’s in her twenties). Although I am the one who wrote Mina, so you may have a point.
The thing is, I love Mina’s homicidal little heart. She’s a horrible little thing, but SO much fun to write.
Oh God. It’s a good thing school is almost over so I’ll stop reading this blog in the science library and having to bite my cheeks to keep from laughing out loud.I love Wolfie. I continue to maintain that talking dogs is not an obstacle to publication if they’re going to be this much fun. The dog insulting the boyfriend is awesome. As well as “Die, you basterd!” I’m loving how the dogs talk in general as well. Short, simple sentences and also simple concepts. It works well. Also really nice on that paragraph where she wakes up and everything is wonderful and sharper. Nice hinting on the goddess of ecstasy thing.
For weak points, to begin with what’s with Ray? I mean it’s clear he’s a jerk but then why is she with him? It provides an explanation for the taser but beyond that it makes her seem a little pathetic because she doesn’t seem to like him all that much to begin with so why date him. Also I agree with Sheagal on tipsy girl dragging a god out onto the deck. People who are not gods are heavy so I would think this would be hard. Maybe if she seemed to have more difficulty with it?
I think this is fantastic overall however. And it makes sense that Shar is the less light-hearted one as she is the oldest and well, she’s working on a book that doesn’t seem like she’ll ever finish, lots of stuff in her house is unfinished or in the wrong place (nice details) and her boyfriend is a loser. Not a whole heck of a lot to be happy about other than of course her significant other (Wolfie, again nice detail having her refer to Wolfie as such). Which just makes the fact that she’s going to be ecstasy even that much more fun.
The Dying God-King was sitting at her dining room table in a red flannel shirt, eating a muffin and reading her research.
Possibly my favorite part.
On a PC if you hold down ctrl and scroll up (not with the up arrow) that increases the size.
Oh, very cool. On a PC hit Ctrl and the + sign on the number pad. Do it a couple times and you can probably read the text from across the room. Hit Ctrl and the - sign to make it smaller.
Jenny, my bifocal-wearing eyes thank you.
Ahem. Not that I’m really reading this blog. Nope. Not going to get sucked into another one. Just not. Got stuff to do.
No suggestions. Really.
I, too, laughed out loud at my desk when I read “I peed”. I had tears streaming down my face. I wish someone had come by to ask why so I’d have an excuse to share.
I had a dog who would absolutely have said that if she could, but she peed out of spite and excitement more than nerves. My dog now would, unfortunately, have to say, “I shit. On the steps.” And he’s afraid of thunderstorms . . .
Also, don’t know if any of your fictional dogs do it, but he talks in his sleep. That’ always fun to watch/listen to!
Wolfie doesn’t talk in his sleep, but Lucy does. I think she chases rabbits. She’s a beagle so she’s very goal-oriented. Wolfie’s more of a worrier, so when he sacks out, his brain shuts down because he’s been imagining disaster all day.
Well, well, well, it’s moving along nicely! A god in the bedroom — always a good sign (-:.
Two things that struck me as a little strange: Shar seems very casual about her talking dog. Is she really that drunk, or does she just not get upset about things that turn her reality upside-down? I keep flashing back to all those pink elephant jokes that drunks used to see.
The other thing was Wolfie’s “don’t go back there” refrain. I feel a little bludgeoned by it; could be either cut back, or varied to escalation (the climax being peeing on the rug, of course! That’s a perfect doggie touch.).
Is it possible that there’s a secret bas-relief in the house where Sam-the-God comes out from? Where exactly has he been all these years? I’d definitely spend more word count on The Appearance of the God — get that whole Spielberg vibe going there.
Whereas the first half could use some condensing.
So, am I getting the beats right here? Shar is ready to finish one chapter of her life; Wolfie says “don’t go back.” The God Arrives as in a Dream. Whoopsie, that was no dream, there’s a god at my breakfast table!
after talking to her dog,he has been her constant companion for all these years, she may well not be all that shocked he answers back, depending how liquered up she is.
his refrain of not going back seems to me like his real protection mode that he is in, wanting to keep her from harm. he has met all the dogs at class, got bad vibes from the chichuauauauauaua and talked to kami’s so is more aware of what is in store for her. he is just wanting to protect her. his job. and he loves her. she provides him shelter FOOD and food. and more food.
wonder if she is ever tipsy enough to pour a bit of koolaid into a bowl for him to taste, what he would do? our hound loves diet pepsi and when we had our chichuauauauauauaua wine was never save. he was a cheap drunk.
when jon, who was a fed, and i started dating, my first gifts? road flairs and a handcuff key. such the romantic.
love the book. got the arc on umf, soon to be a happy camper
I love ctrl and +. Just love it. The things you learn from authors….
Now I’m confused again (even though I AM NOT reading this blog). If Micki is right about the beats, then I’m over here listening to a whole different song. Yeah, what else is new? I didn’t think this was so much Shar v. Wolfie as Shar v. People Controlling Her.
I thought the beats were: Student calls telling her what to do, Ray calls ordering her around, God-King shows up being all commanding. And I thought Wolfie telling her what [not] to do was more an escalating subtext or backdrop.
I thought those three needed to be more evenly spaced and emphasized a bit. The more control she loses to the kool-aid, the more personal control she gains. She tells student he is wrong and maybe deletes him. Maybe the call comes from Ray while she’s there, she refuses to answer and when he’s done she hits delete with a bit more force than necessary. God-King shows up and she denies him believability and then tasers him (hits delete for the third time). Then drags him outside and locks the door for good measure. Sense of [false] control regained, Wolfie pacified. Until the next morning.
Not sure whether her arguments against Wolfie should start out strong and get weaker as he becomes more adamant, or vice versa. The first I think. Nice contrast to her actions.
Shar grabbing the God-King’s wrists didn’t work for me. Seems like physical contact — esp initial contact, esp if he’s glowing — should have more significance. Maybe he ends up on another ugly rug? Pretty easy to grab a couple corners and drag him out across those polished hardwood floors. Or are they stone? Just another heavy rug, not real.
Of course, I’m probably getting this all wrong. I really don’t think I understand beats.
Yep, I thought of the rug, too. You can actually drag quite a bit of weight but I forgot he wasn’t wearing much so there wouldn’t be cloth under him to slide. So that’s Char’s second rug in the bedroom. The things you have to know.
Beats.
It’s Shar vs. Wolfie, and I blocked them out physically first, one on the first floor where she can’t hear him, one on the second floor in the bedroom, where she hears him and thinks it’s drink, and one in an elevated conscious state where she just accepts that he’s talking because she thinks it’s a dream.
The first one was supposed to be Wolfie trying to tell her that something was wrong and she wasn’t listening, the TP being him barking at the answering machine and her finally hearing him.
The second one was him convincing her not to go back.
And the third one was him failing to convince her to leave when the god rose.
So I have to focus that. But there’s so much STUFF there yet.
It’s amazing how much it helps to talk it out here. Explaining it to people really clarifies it. Especially any impulse I have to say, “I had to show the reader . . .” Thwap.
But there’s stuff in there that I had to show the reader and I think it’s garbaging up the scene. And then I have to focus.
Well, someone just tie me up and call me Bikki, because Beats are Hard. I’ve decided that if any of MY scenes ever have beats it will be purely by coincidence. And I’ll be the last one to know about it. [sigh] I can do math, however.
So where do you feel infodumped on? What stuff can be cut? Where’s the stuff that must be kept at all costs?
I’m going to be no help at all because I haven’t got a clue about beats, I liked all of it and didn’t think any of it was infodump.
I didn’t get the impression that Shar was drunk. She would possibly like to think she is (just like she convinces herself that she’s still dreaming even when she’s not), but I expect the drink isn’t alcoholic and possibly increases her vitality.
Wah! (Cries on BCB’s shoulder.) Beats ARE hard! I better go back and read the lesson again on the writing workshop. I guess I kind of outlined it.
Thanks, Jenny, for showing us the beats.
“i peed”…”on the rug”
okay, two of the funniest lines ever. just for the simplicity of the thing. brava
could the dying-god speak when she walks in maybe? it might be funny too if he needs reading glasses? maybe he growls back at wolfie? i don’t know, but maybe something that brings him in as a real, participating entity into the scene.
love it!!
I just changed all the italics where Wolfie was speaking to plain text (no I didn’t put up a whole new post, it was just typography) so that now he talk like humans in the scene. I think I like it.
I let this sit for awhile so I could get some distance on it, and I think it’s going to need a major overhaul.
So this is Shar vs. Wolfie.
Shar’s goal is maintain the illusion that her life is fine
Wolfie’s goal is to knock her out of her complacency before something Bad happens.
Beat One:
Shar: My life is fine
Wolfie: Your dog talks.
Beat Two:
Shar: Okay, my dog talks, but that’s because I’ve been drinking, my life is fine.
Wolfie: Your boyfriend is a jerk and there’s something weird going on.
Beat Three:
Shar: Okay, my dog talks and my boyfriend is a jerk, but my life is fine.
Wolfie: A GOD JUST ROSE and I am FREAKED.
Beat Four:
Shar: Okay, my dog talks and my boyfriend is a jerk and a god just rose, but it’s all a dream, so my life is fine.
Wolfie: ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?
Beat Five:
Shar: THERE’S A GOD AT MY DINING ROOM TABLE!
Wolfie: BANZAI!
I think I can rewrite this to that and it’ll be much tighter.
i like the fact wolfie demands the repeat of what he says to her, so she can’t hide from what she is being told, realization has to be acknowledged in the repetition…
sort of like when you tell the 4 yr old to listen, then ask them to repeat what you said…then tell them to look at your eyes, and repeat it, then they can. that’s what has always worked here. shocked me to see my daughter use that on her 4 yr old.