Exercise in Dialogue

I just thought I'd share my unedited, raw dialogue from Diana's exercise she suggested (see yesterday's post). More than two or three sentences but I kept telling myself to stop setting the scene and just talk. It wasn't easy but it was fun and I broke through my freak-out.

EXERCISE – SMALL DIALOGUE WITH SONNY

What would she say if she went to the mall and someone asked her for a piece of gum? 

“Hey, do you have any gum?” The grunge girl said smacking on a piece already.

“Um, yeah.” I dug through the bottom of my purse finding my last piece of Trident. I handed the piece to the girl. She accepted the piece but eyed it conspicuously then popped it in her mouth. “Nice, earrings.” I tried to compliment. There were at least a dozen between the two ears to pick from. She flashed a smile at my lame compliment and ditched me.

Try another with her waiting for a ride in front of a movie theater and a hot guy walks up and makes small talk…

“Hey, can you talk to me for a sec.” A really hot guys asked while I waited for my ride to pick me up.

“Um, ok.” Is all I could mangage considering his eyes glittered and his perfect white smile gleamed.

“Is she looking. Don’t look.” He stopped me as I peeked over his shoulder.

“Um, I can’t see. Which her?” I didn’t hide my disappointment. Obviously he inteneded to use me to make her jealous.

“I don’t know who she is? Girl in the red.” He said. He casually moved to the side giving me a view of this gorgeous brunett. Oh great, he’s found love at first sight and it isn’t me. Oh well.

“Uh huh.” I confirmed her eyes bore through him.

“Her and her clan stood in line in front of me outside. I heard her tell her friend she wanted to find out my name and whether or not I’d slip her the tongue if given the chance.” He shook his head in disgust. She used a guy’s line, too bad. Her loss, my gain.

“Well she’s headed this way.” I warned him. I wanted to curl my arm through his and toss my head back in laughter to save him but I wasn’t ballsy enough to make the move. So I stood closer to him doing nothing.

He threw his arm around me just as she opened her mouth to speak and he said, “Oh babe, sorry I’m late. These annoying girls just wouldn’t shut up in line.” He walked me into the movie. Not the one I purchased a ticket for but I didn’t plan on correcting him.

If her house caught fire…

“Daddy! Are you there!” I screamed through my bedroom door unable to open it because of the heat but not ready to go out the window. “Towel, shove a towel under the door. Don’t open the window until ready to leave or the oxygen will pull out the flames toward you. That’s it!” I pushed open my window and a rush of cold pulled the smoke out. The smoke grew thicker and the flames started to pop the door. “DADDY! WAKE UP!” I screamed but by now the smoke choked my lungs. I jumped out of the window and ran around back to Daddy’s window. It was too high to reach. I ran to the brick pile and raced back, hurling it through the air.

“Daddy, Daddy! Wake up! FIRE!” I cupped my hands around my mouth to carry my voice. Then I heard him cough. “DADDYYYYYYYYYY!” I screamed.

“SONNY?” The panic in his voice esculated as he realized the validity of the situation.

“I’m OK . I’m outside. Don’t go down the hallway.” Daddy’s window was pretty small but I think he can climb out.

“Get back!” He yelled. I stepped away from the house. The flames were piercing through the roof line. Through the window hurled a baseball bat. The one Daddy kept under his bed for intruders. With a few bashes he had cleared the small window from glass and wedged himself out of the window.

If zombies came out of the ground…

“Ahhh! A hand, it’s tearing through the grass.” I looked around trying to find a piece of unbroken earth. “This is a bad dream. Just a really bad dream.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “The trees,” I jolted them open looking at how high I could climb. “Zombies can’t climb trees, can they?” I said, shimming up the closest tree. The skeloten branches made it easy footing. “Why did I have to be outside? It was so stupid to sneak out to see Billy Freaking Nobody who decided to ask Carrie Midland inside for an afterhours make out session instead of me? Argh!” I yanked off half a branch and threw it to the ground, drawing the zombies my direction. I froze as they all gathered around the tree clueless how to climb. “Suckers! You can’t get me up here can you! Ha, at least one thing is going well for me tonight.” The tree started to lean in one direction, small at first but slowly more and more. “You zombies are not muscle men. The base of this tree is at least a foot and a half in diameter” Crack. The roots to the old oak tree started to give way and the only thing I could say was, “timber?”

DIALOGUE BETWEEN SONNY AND DARYL:

Vet’s office…

I entered the vet with my Dad’s cat. Sitting in the waiting room was a old lady with a yappy dog and a young guy, holding a bird wrapped in a towel.

“Yes, I’m here to get Muffin her shots.” I showed the cage to the attendant.

“Okay the doctor will be right with you.” She nodded for me to sit. I chose the spot next to the long haired copper skinned guy.

“I’ll keep her over here so she doesn’t think lunch.” I said to the guy jokingly as I put Muffin’s cage down a good two feet on the opposite side of me. He smiled, grateful but didn’t say anything.

He features were beautiful, chiseled and strong. “Is that a pigeon?” I leaned over to see what type of bird he held. The form of his posture and his striking looks, I guess just different looks called for me to talk to him. I wanted to hear if his voice pulled me as much as his Native American looks.

“It’s a dove. I couldn’t let it die.” He curled a small smile, pleased I approached him.

“Why not?” A cranky, one pack a day old woman barked from the other side of the waiting room.

He looked at me as he answered her. “Doves mate for life. If she dies, her partner will never allow himself to be with another. And he will live out the rest of his life alone.”

They meet on a reality show…

“Here, let me wrap your hands. If you drop I will catch you.” Daryl, rushed to wrap my hands in a strap of cloth. He didn’t even know me a day and he touched my hands with such tenderness.

“Ouch.” I said. The rope burns bled through the shreds of his shirt he worked around my palms.

“Just let me do it. I can do one more.” His hands bled worse than mine and we were almost through the last trial, ahead of the others.

“If I don’t do my share, you will be disqualified. Let me. I’ll be okay I promise.” I said. My smile wobbled as I grabbed the last rope to wench myself down. I had the immunity idol and if we did not complete this as a team they would punish him being their strongest competitor.

“Hey,” he grabbed my chin, “I’ll be right there to catch you if you fall.”

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Huh? What did you say?

Tuesday, December 29, 2009 9:24 AM Posted by Dana Elmendorf 9 comments
Blah blah blah, blah blah blah...blah blah.  My MC and her love interest sound like Charlie Brown's teacher.  Nobody knows what the heck they are saying because it is soooo boring!

Give me a scene and I can create a written visual that will spin it into existence.  Give me dialogue, and I will bore the crap out of you.  I've written future chapters to my WIP already, where the MC and Love Interest (let's call him MCsH, for Main Character's Hottie) and their dialogue flows quite well.  But for some reason here in chapter 4 where they meet (yes I am very well aware that ch. 4 sounds pretty late to introduce MCsH but it's a 1st draft people) their dialogue is boring me to death or stalling completely.

After obsessing over it for days and coming up with nothing, my brain went into total shut down, writer's block freak-out mode.  (I think that is a technical diagnosis TSDWBFOM, kind of like BLS, aka Bag Lady Syndrome.)  And let me add, after having the children home for break and the hubby on vacation this week, it is not a good time to write thus adding to the frustration.

First I tried to diagnose my problem.  There are many pitfalls of dialogue according to Poe War, a writer's resource center.  Here are the pitfalls Poe listed:
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Stilted Language - Dialog that does not sound like natural speech.
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Filler -  Dialog that does not further the scene and does not deepen your understanding of the characters.  BINGO, We have a winner!
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Exposition - Dialog that has the character explain the plot or repeat information for the benefit of the audience.
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Naming - Having one character use another character’s name to establish identity. People almost never say other people’s names back to them, and if they do it is a character trait typical of a used car salesman.
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Overuse of Modifiers - Too many dialog modifiers such as shouted, exclaimed, cried, whispered, stammered, opined, insinuated, hedged and a million others. Modifiers such as this can sometimes be useful, but are often annoying and used as a crutch for poorly designed dialogue.

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Filler, aka blah blah blah, is the evil culprit.  Now why?  I am introducing my MC to MCsH for the first time and I realize, I have forgotten how to date.  I've been with my husband for 13, almost 14 years, married for 10 of those years and I don't know the first thing about dating.  Plus if I dated now it wouldn't have the juvenile element it did 20 10 years ago when I was a teenager.

I need an exercise, not "to exercise", my trainer kicked my butt yesterday.  I need a dialogue building exercise, so searched the net.  I found over seventeen  decent advice websites and suggestions but none of them really got me past my hump.  Most suggestions had me writing whole new scenes with lots of different types of characters doing random things.  All great but again, nothing that really helped me with my MC and MCsH.

So...I emailed my super delicious critique buddy, Diana over at Writing Roller Coasters with my "filler" dialogue dilemma and she fixed me right up.

Here is what Diana prescribed:
These should be a few sentences long, and not time consuming at all (if you're stuck try the next one. The point is to become completely comfortable "speaking" as your mc). Try writing for the female protag in a completely unrelated setting: what would she say if she went to the mall and someone asked her for a piece of gum? Try another with her waiting for a ride in front of a movie theater and a hot guy walks up and makes small talk, and then try something completely impossible, like if her house caught fire or if zombies came out of the ground. Seriously, you will get to know her better if you know what she'd say, and then do the male protagonist. Finally put them together for a few sentences that don't relate to your story. Maybe they're on a reality show or they bump into each other at the vet, just see what they would say. Remember, two or three sentences, and if you get stuck come up with a different setting. And lastly, by the end of the book you'll have an excellent handle on their dialog and you can always go back and fix it :)

I tried it last night and it worked!  I got past this super built up dialogue anxiety and am able to start creating dialogue between my  MC and MCsH.  There are three parts to Diana's advice that really nailed it for me.
  1. Use your MC's voice. (Every other piece of advice had me creating new random characters.)
  2. Two or three sentences and that is it.  (It's a quick exercise that I don't have to build a scene for and can move through quickly.)
  3. Write dialogue completely unrelated to your story.  (It takes the pressure off tremendously and who cares what they talk about as long as they are talking.)
Thanks Di, you really helped me past that one.  I'm finished with chapter 4 and up to 18K.  The first three chapters I have already axed but I will let my super smooth critique buddy confirm that (she might say consolidate into one chapter *fingers crossed*)  Any way, I'm taking the week off from actually writing in my WIP due to human distractions, aka my family, who is home for 24 hours a day for the rest of the week.  I'll have my fortress of solitude back next week, where I can get back to work.  Any dialogue issues for you?

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Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas!


I hope you and yours have a wonderful Christmas!  Enjoy these days with your little ones.  They grow up fast.  I'll be back next Monday ready and rested to blog.

Enjoy the holidays and write, write, write.

XXOO's
Girl w/ One Eye

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Pucker up! And a little more.

Monday, December 21, 2009 7:00 AM Posted by Dana Elmendorf 29 comments
Whip out your mistletoe.   I'm so excited to share and VERY nervous.  I'm feeling vulnerable right now.  


You want a kiss?  I have one and a little more.  Let me set the scene: boy, girl and bedroom.  Ok, stop right there dirty mind.  This is a PG, well maybe PG-13 scene.  Shane, 17 and Nick, looks 18 (no he's not a vampire, geez.  I don't want to go into the how he's eternally young thing.) are hanging out in Shane's room.   She's a southern girl and he's a California boy.  Mmmmm.  Sorry, we haven't even got to the kissing yet.  Nick has a token, an ability.  He has the ability to call upon the instincts of animals (Ok, I'm giving a brief synopsis here so don't judge until you've read the book.)  You need to know that he never lets things get to far between them, for a multitude of reasons I will not go into here.


Ok, enough gibberish.  This is my shelved book, my first novel.


Wellspring, Chapter 10 The Water, pg. 224


“Can’t you stay with me a little longer?”  I said.  Sweetly I wound my accent around his weakness, manipulating his yearning to hold me every night.
“Of course I can.”  Nick said.  I twitched a tiny smile of satisfaction at how willingly he buckled under my charms.  My head rested against the heft of his chest.
I cursed the cool weather that forced him to wear long sleeve shirts.  I missed seeing the warm golden glow that kissed his skin, skin he bared every weekend since summer.  The hair products he used to tousle his sandy locks hinted with the scent of coconut, which would have to be enough to sustain my beach memories.  The only skin he exposed now was his long hands.  I traced the length of his fingers, allowing myself to fantasize about the feel of them placed upon my hips.  How strong and secure they felt when he pulled my body to his for a kiss.  I imagined what they would feel like gliding along my waist, inching toward my chest.
I must have grunted a small sound of satisfaction to get his attention.  Either that or it was the thudding pulse that pounded from my neck against his chest. 
“What are you thinking about?” Nick asked.
“Do you think you or Christian could share your token like Jace and Laura can?”  I said.  Instead of telling him what I really thought about I lied, hoping he would write off my pulse to our closeness.
“I don’t think so, maybe Christian, if he controlled it better, evolved it.”  He said.
“Why not yours?”
“Mine is more physical, harder to transfer between people I guess.”
“I wonder what I would be able to do.”   I said.
“Divine charm,” he played along with my game, “the perfect balance of Aphrodite and the sirens.”  He smiled wryly.
“So I could lure people to their death with the sound of my voice?”  I asked.  I crinkled my nose, wanting something a little more super hero, like flying.
“Maybe the charm of your southern tongue could rain velvet on their ears but your beauty would draw them in and your thoughts alone would surrender them to your every command, every whim.”  He said.  “Kind of like now.  So if all you wanted was a kiss…”  He teased softly.
 “All I would have to do is think it.”  I closed my eyes and bit my bottom lip.  Nick rolled me back onto his arm and kissed the soft hollow of my neck.  He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent off my skin.  Skin drenched in pheromones.  “And if I wanted…” I said breathlessly, unable to finish with his lips finding the soft part of my throat.
Nick traced his nose along my neck to the base of my ear.  The warmth of his breath there set a fire under my skin. He pulled at my earlobe with a pinch of his lips.  Parts of my body burned, begging for his touch.  Determined I would enjoy more than thirty seconds of pleasure before he stopped us, I kept very still forcing myself not to react.  Sliding the neck of my shirt open, he lined tiny kisses down to the sweep of my shoulder.  The feeling rippled a shiver down my spine and a hushed moan escaped from my lips.
He paused.  Dang it Shane, calm down.
Nick’s hands tightened around my waist affirming his hold, his need.  His mouth moved on top of mine, feeling warm and welcoming as our tongues danced. 
That…was more than I could handle. 
With all control gone I pressed my pelvis to his frame, he released a low disapproving growl.  I ignored it, locking my fingers behind his neck and forcing his lips to stay on mine, parting them with wet greetings.  His jaw locked and refused to soften.
“Arghhh!”  I growled in frustration, releasing him from my grasp.
“Shhhh.” He whispered, tracing his eyes back to the door.  Yes, don’t worry, I thought, nothing is happening any way.
Feeling dejected, I didn’t hide my frustration.
“You should be mad at me, I wasn’t playing fair.” He confessed.  Oh no, I was not going to let him take the high road again.
“No, it’s my fault.  How are you supposed to know how powerful your touch is?  The slightest inclination of your fingertips and the electricity shoots right through me!”  I said, aching at the thought.  I could see him pursing back a gloating smile.  “You’ve got something going on besides this animal thingy.”  My rambling sounded convoluted because his kisses still quivered through my thoughts.  “It’s like you’ve got some kind of pleasure radar.”  I said, in complaint.  He couldn’t help but chuckle at my scattered lack of composure.

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Zombies in the Crosswalk

Sunday, December 20, 2009 5:19 AM Posted by Dana Elmendorf 4 comments
It's Sunday 3am in the blink of a town in the middle of nowhere. Bells, Tennessee. The sloths of death slowly creep their way toward her. Dragging their bodies of rotting flesh, humming their soulless moans. If the winds of fate blew her way tonight, she could expect to find Mr. Raglan's old blue pick-up parked out front of the Red Rooster. Faithfully he got drunk every Saturday night and walked home, too drunk to drive, always stashing his keys above the visor. Coming into the center of town she saw his truck parked across the street. The single red light in the center of town glowed an eerie red, swinging in the winds of fright. She waited, impatiently pressing the button to the crosswalk. Cussing and swearing for the little white man to permit her to safely pass. The moaning grew louder now from all around, behind her, in front of her, slowing surrounding her with only two yellow lines of freedom marking a path for her safe exit. "Damn you light, turn already" she cursed loudly. But it was too late, the zombies entered the crosswalk before she had a chance to cross. And as the zombies ripped away at her flesh, her white knight lighted her the way, seconds too late.


Bring on the bag lady. Hmm, are you scratching your head? Good, I like it when you do that. Here's my point, even at 3 am in the middle of nowhere with no one in sight and zombies fast on my heals....there are just some rules I can't break.


Warning:  Ridiculously long post.  Stop here unless you are ready to commit.

Shhh, don't tell my friends. I don't want to wreck my tough guy girl reputation to all of them. Not my cyber buddies but the friends who don't know I'm a writer and will actually never read this blog friends. If you asked all of Gw/1i's friends if she is a rule follower, they would probably laugh in your face followed up by a "Heck no!". Most of my friends like to think of me as the girl who rocks the boat, an off the cuff, take it or leave it kind of gal. This is true but I need parameters to function within or I get wigged out. Not to say that I don't bend rules or even break the rules but when I do, I better have a really good reason or the pit of my stomach blackens and yanks me into a void of dread.

Rules, guidelines, laws, etc are all governed by a body people who have created them to keep you safe, keep you in check or to guide you. There are just some rules that I can't break. I cannot enter a crosswalk until the little white walking man gives me permission. I don't care if the if is dystopia and I am the last person on earth. I can't do it.

Guidelines and parameters give me the warm fuzzies. Compiling guidelines about writing shows me the way to being a better writer. Especially one's from agents about "How to submit a Query." In one afternoon I was able to know, with confidence, how to submit a query, what it should look like, who to send it to, etc. etc. etc. So when I hear agents blog about what type of wrong queries are out there I'm thinking, why wouldn't you use your resources and I've a got pretty good shot of getting my manuscript at least read. (thanks to all the query uneducated) I also love when people blog their own tips and tricks, like how to "Identify your Characters" or "What not to say when an agent calls."

Though several blog clickings, I stumbled across this helpful tool. Grammar Girl: Quick and Dirty tips for Better Writing I found a tip on "How to Write your First Novel" Yes, I have already written my first novel and I am now on my second but I wanted to make sure I'm on the straight and narrow. And I think that we could all write our own five-steps of what we think should go into writing your first novel but for me, right now, this will do. So here, in brief, is Scott Sigler's five-step plan with my comments (too see his elaboration click on the previous link):

Step 1: Write every day
Oh the dread and guilt when I don't do this. Life (aka family) keeps me busy so I am not always able to do this. Not that I need to write or my soul will die but because I know that when I keep the craft up my writing tightens and it flows like liquid gold. Honey kind of gold that oozes and make you happy to be a writer.

Step 2: Write a bad book first
Check. Though I don't like to call it "bad" per say just not my best.

Step 3: Finish the bad book, then put it away for six months
And again check, minus the six months. My first novel sadly sits shelved before I was ready to let it go. Six months will probably unravel a whole new perspective I'm sure. Time heals all wounds. Unless you pick at it like a scab and that will only leave a nasty scar in the end.

Step 4: Start writing your “good” book
Yes, mmmm, the good book. My current WIP feels like my "good" book. Writing the synopsis, outline and other things seem clearer, smoother. This has a chance, I think. *crosses fingers* It's at least going to make it to the query stage, that is my goal.

Step 5: After six months, read that “bad” book, learn where you're weak, and address those weak areas.
I'm way ahead of you. Not that I won't do that again in six months I'm just saying I already see quite a few areas that I am weak and I am already working to improve.

To me, these steps are basic, nothing real earth shattering but they keep my writing in perspective.

So what rules do you live by? Break? Or guidelines you can't live without?

FYI...Bells, Tennessee is right next to the small town I grew up in. They only have one street light. Really.

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I Heart Kissing!















If it has to do with a kiss....Girl with One Eye is in.  I love kissing, almost kissing, sweet kissing, feverish kissing....except maybe bad kissing but we all have to start somewhere.  Tina Lynn over at Sweet Niblets has blogged about an Official Kissing Day Blogfest (see Sherrinda's official details on her post.)  The concept is, in honor of mistletoe, everyone post a kissing scene from their WIP on Monday December 21st.  I think this is a totally fun idea and I can't wait to run around the blogosphere on Monday and read about the many kisses.

Are you puckered up?  Muah!


EDIT:  Don't forget to go to Sherrinda's blog on Monday to post in her comments your kissing link.

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Random Ramblings minus the Bag Lady

Tuesday, December 15, 2009 6:50 AM Posted by Dana Elmendorf 4 comments
So I'm not going to take you on a random make-out session with a cardboard cut out or a wild roller coaster ride dream interpretation (both are aka Bag Lady Randomness.)  I'll just talk about normal (*giggle*, are any of us writers "normal"?) writing things I've got going on.

First off, it's the holidays and with parties, Christmas shopping and kids getting out of school soon I will be cutting my blogging down to twice a week.  Just through the holidays.  Come the new year I will be back in business. (and the kids will be back in school.)

I miss my Flashy Fiction and all of your blogs.  I haven't been reading many blogs lately because all the above mentioned.  When I don't keep caught up, there seems to be something missing from my life, like a long lost friend I need to keep in touch with.  So you may see me comment on a blog you wrote a week ago but it is only me playing catch up.  I don't read blogs to keep myself busy (my life does that just fine).  If I leave a comment in is not out of obligation but a necessity.  Necessary because I really feel moved to enough to tell  you what I think or to laugh with you.  Laughing, I get a lot of laughter from some of the blogs I read or most especially the comments.

My WIP...hmm.  Let's just say, exWIP because I have started working on a new piece.  Oh darn, another first novel gets shelved.  As much as I enjoyed the piece I was working on, I don't want to Frankenstein the beginning.  I reworked the intro three times and though each time it got better, I need some distance before I go back to it.  You know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder (if you don't find someone else in the meantime).  Not long after I joined the blogging community I found out that most first novels never see the printed page.  Shelving my first WIP happened a lot sooner than I thought because I had at least hoped I would get it to the query stage.  Unfortunately for now, no.

Now my new WIP--. I feel like some two bit girl who brings the new boyfriend to a party where the ex-boyfriend and I share mutual friends.  *awkward* Well he just needs to suck it up and move on, apparently I have.  Sorry, bag lady randomness.  It's a disease I have you know.  Where were we?  My new WIP.  It used to be the little "somethin' somethin'" I had on the side.  This piece I am very excited about, though I am stuck right now in chapter three, I'm excited.

My exWIP I started with a concept and worked out from that filling in my outline as I wrote out the full story.  Well, how'd that work out for ya?  Not so well.  It left me with plotholes and chunks of chocolate.  Chocolate good, plotholes, not so good.  My new WIP came from a dream (please no Martin Luther King Jr. or Stephenie Meyer comments) that filled me with so much emotion that I had to write it all down at 4:00 in the morning to capture the passion on paper.  After a few days I kept going back to it, telling myself that I was only taking a break from my exWIP to write down a few notes.  (Oh sure, you know how it goes.  First it's a few drinks at happy hour, then client dinners and the next thing you know you have a full on affair.  You just better not cheat with Beyonce's husband.  Mm huh girlfriend, she will whup your scrawny butt!) Sorry, bag lady again.  Notes on the new WIP became full chapters and before you know it a synopsis was born.

Though my four page synopsis is not turn it in to an agent quality, it is a full story from beginning to end.  Complete with protagonist, conflict and resolution.  The concept is there with the rest of the details to follow in the writing itself.  When all is said and done, the query letter for this book will not be so intimidating.

Okay off to feed those little monsters most people like to call children.  Feel free to comment on any randomness you feel like.

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You don’t know me right?

All you see here is a girl with one eye or maybe a scrawny squirrel.  If I shed my skin of self doubt and bare a piece of my soul you won’t rip and tear away at who I am because you don’t know me.  You see the cyber face I show you but who I really am is a mystery.  My cyber buddy Catherine commented that “we’re gonna have to do something about your sharing.”  So I thought, I should do something, I should share because if I can’t open myself up to a world of aspiring authors, who I assume experience the same range of fear, joy and doubt that we all do, then who can I open myself up too?  I’m a writer, right?  And we all know that words, or more specifically verse, is open to interpretation.  So here.  Something I wrote tonight, just now, and I will share with you, you of the unnumbered many, which is more than the previous “count them on two hands” that I have shared with before.

Title:  The Need

In the lines of the day I sigh.
To see the lack of height that couples me.

Its need wraps around my tongue
And pulls at the depths from within.

I find the loss stiffening and the lack…
Unbearable.

Glimmers of random possibilities tease,
Wasting the time of the unavailable.

It’s the gnawing nagging need that breaks me.
And keeps the whole to a half.

Never full, except in moments.
Their accumulations trifle at best.

 But it is their existence that keeps me.
Until a worthy enough muse is found.

Then to ash it will burn
Blowing away in the winds of boredom.

Dare there be the everlasting?

I wonder how obvious my verse is.  Can you guess?  Even if you do I will not award you but my curiosity allows the question.

Okay someone stop me.  Something has spiked the poetry bug in me.  Ugh.

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Just a little quickie.

11:42 AM Posted by Dana Elmendorf 7 comments
I've got lots of work to do today and only two hours to write so today I will be brief.  First let me brag by saying I did 100 pull-ups in boxing class today.  Wahoo!  I rock!

On with writing...I love the book Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater. (Yes Void, I'm a fan of kissing)  The Merry Sisters of Fate is a blog shared by a trio of authors, Maggie being one of them.   Sometimes they blog randomness and sometimes they blog a short story.  (Hmmm.  That just game me an idea.)  Brenna Yovanoff had a short story the other day that I thought was beautiful and sad at the same time.  The oddness of how the young girl processes her own grief is how I would if I did not let society dictate me other wise.

So check it out:  Fiction by Brenna:  The Sleeping Spell

(This is her image she uses.  Isn't it beautiful?)

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Tag...you're it!

Monday, December 7, 2009 3:58 PM Posted by Dana Elmendorf 9 comments
Wendy tagged me so now I must keep the game going.  Below I answered the questions and now I will tag two other people... Catherine  and Stephanie and Voidwalker – you’re it!  (GwOE runs wildly away.)

1. What's the last thing you wrote? What's the first thing you wrote that you still have?
part A.  Besides my blog, um…my lobotomized WIP, “Wellspring”.  part B.  A poem about my high school sweet heart…ahem…excuse me I think I just vomited in my mouth a little bit.
2. Write poetry?
Not that often now but I have written, a lot in the past.
3. Angsty poetry?
No, usually about love, lust, crush, maybe one or two I hate you’s but that’s it.
4. Favorite genre of writing?
YA paranormal with romance….mmmm…I’ve gotta have kissing. *muah*
5. Most annoying character you've ever created?
The MC to my second WIP.  Well she starts out annoying but for good reason.  She is typical teenager who thinks she’ll marry her high school sweetheart.  ….ahem, I wouldn’t know what that’s like though.
6. Best Plot you've ever created?
Oh my little side baby. (GwOE rubs her hands together)  I am slowly stroking it because I realllllllly want it to be a winner.  There’s this girl and she meets this guy and….I’m not going to tell you but it has to do with racism, Native Americans and the spirit world.
7. Coolest Plot twist you've ever created?
My current WIP, that’s why I am working so hard to get this darn thing fixed.  You know in movies when they write in the scientific specifics of why this or that happens, I LOVE when it is so well written that it not only sounds plausible but probable.  I have written out the scientific “why” to my characters abilities that I love and the twist that goes with it is pretty cool. (says the girl...but who knows if you will think the same) I hope the reader will appreciate it because I put in a lot of man hours of research to perfect my explanation before I even started writing.   (And it was all inspired by a scientific painting.)
8. How often do you get writer's block?
ANY time I am busy with other things.  Drives me crazy!  I need alone time, without distractions, to build the story in my mind and then I speed away at the computer.
9. Write fan fiction?
Um, no.  I get why people do it.  They are so in love with the characters and story they never want it to end.  It’s a form of flattery for an author.  I’ve tried to finish out in my head what happens next after a series ends and it’s kind of like finishing off someone else’s sex. Huh?   Exactly.  It’s just weird and all kinds of creepy wrong for me. (LOL.  I can’t believe I just said that.)
 10. Do you type or write by hand?
Type but I have written on paper in a pinch or to mix things up.
11. Do you save everything you write?
Yes, good or crap.  I have it.  You keep the crap for two reasons: so you can see where you’ve come from and you can remind yourself where NOT to go again.
12. Do you ever go back to an idea after you've abandoned it?
Sure, why not.  Abandoned ideas are just those left in cold because you found a better friend to play with.  When you’re bored enough you’ll come back to it eventually, minus the rose colored glasses.
13. What's your favorite thing you've ever written?
It’s a tossup.   A poem I wrote in college about sadness.  It’s a conversation between my brain and my heart.  The other is my little dish on the side, mmmmm.  My WIP#2, not the WIP itself but the four page synopsis to that WIP that flowed like liquid gold baby.
14. What's everyone else's favorite story that you've written?
I don’t share.
15. Ever written romance or angsty teen drama?
Um yes.  Is there anything else?  I’ve gots lots of angst and unrequited drama inside me from my "glorious" teenage years that I have got to get out.  And let me tell you, it’s going to take more than one book to do it.
16. What's your favorite setting for your characters?
The rural countryside of southern Illinois.  That’s where my father was raised and I love visiting there.  Simple, easy going life.
17. How many writing projects are you working on right now?
Two and a half.   One paranormal teen romance, one racism romance involving Native Americans and a half story about dystopia.  But like every writer I have a million stories in my head dying to get out.
18. Have you ever won an award for your writing?
No, but I have never entered in a contest.  I would like to I just don’t know where the contests are.  Do you guys know any?
19. What are your five favorite words?
plethora (El Guapo?), salacious, smitten, reverie, fantabulous, awe, soul, lips, lips, and lips.  Is that five?  I can keep going.  I have scraps of paper and notebooks full of random words that I have heard and just fell in love with.  I could probably make my own little dictionary.  Oooo, I just got an idea.  I should buy a dictionary and highlight all the words I love and stop the paper madness.  Nah.
20. What character have you created that is most like yourself?
My current WIP, I think that is why her voice is so quiet.  Ugh.
21. Where do you get ideas for your characters?
Okay, not to sound like Stephenie Meyer but my dreams.  (See next question.)
22. Do you ever write based on your dreams?
Yes, every single story is from a dream.  I have always dreamed very heavily.  I can smell and taste in my dreams too.  I have never….I mean never….forgotten a dream I have had.  I can retell a dream from my childhood so well you would think I had it last night.  I dream so vividly I almost wonder if I transfer myself into an alternate dimension.  It’s crazy I know.
23. Do you favor happy endings?
Yes.  I get enough reality every day, give me my happy ending.
24. Are you concerned with spelling and grammar as you write?
No.  Yes.  Well yes but not if I’ve got the juices flowing.
25. Does music help you write?
Yes it does, it makes me feel so alive BUT…not while I am writing.  Music inspires the story I am building in my head but when I write I need utter silence.  I even wear ear plugs.  Sometimes though, when I need to call upon a specific emotion or mood, I will play a song over and over and over again while I'm writing to help keep the scene real.
26. Quote something you've written. Whatever pops into your head.
Darrell slammed his hand into Roy’s chest and with all the calm and stillness in his voice he simply clarified, “If she so much has a mark, I will mark you twice.”

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Have you ever tried to make out with a cardboard cut-out?

It ain’t pretty.  And it’s awkward.  You’re trying to get all close on the couch and he’s like stiff and I’m not talking in the heavy make-out way either (she raises an eyebrow).  His two dimensional self is unable to sit on the couch and more like leans across it.  So you fold him in half at the waist and knees to make him more comfortable.  Now he’s just getting all bent out of shape.  All the moves are made by you because his hands are permanently at his side, one neatly tucked in his pocket.  No problem you’re an aggressive girl and you go in for a smooch.  Instead of receiving a little tongue action in return you get yourself all inked up around the mouth and now your one sided boy toy has got a smeared up face and you’re asking yourself what you ever saw in him anyway.


Let’s replay the lunch scene from Twilight where Bella sees the Cullen’s for the first time.  But instead of paying actors we’ll just use, um, cardboard character cut-outs.

Lunchroom Scene:  Bella Meets the Cullen’s, Take 1

I see white forms walking to the door.  A blonde, busty she has a permanent scowl because she’s made of cardboard and they don’t change, that’s Rosalie. (I think I will just get a permanent marker.  Do a little squiggle here, a V there and viola: devil horns, brows and goatee.) Next is a wider white cardboard guy holding his arms in a gorilla fashion, that’s Emit.  Then, with the help of movie crewman, a spinning cardboard cut out of Alice, permanently posed in a ballerina position, twirls around like a dancer.  There is no graceful twirl but a constant never stopping spin because if you’re going to be cut-out in that pose forever you need to spin.  When the crewman gets dizzy from spinning he attaches Alice’s cut-out to the top of a record player.  Followed by her would be Jasper.  Since he spends most of the movie looking terrified and deranged he might actually be a cardboard cut-out…hmm.  Then the hottie, in black.  But instead of the smooth walking cool kid that he is, you have another crewman teeter totter Edward on his cardboard cut-out feet.  And he has to keep that broody look forever, no cute curled smile when he hears the girls giggle about him.    Aren’t you drawn in?  No, isn’t this working for you?

You see where I am going here?  Probably not, I’m sure I sound like rambling bag lady but I do have a point.  In efforts to clean up the beginning of my WIP and get to the story, I cut out a lot of back story and kept cutting until I cut out the personality of all my characters.  I literally took the first few chapters of my manuscript and cut out cute little connected paper dolls and wrote a name on each one and called them characters.  Ahuh.  Yeah.  I gave my characters a lobotomy.

Well now what?  I played a little game with Chipmunk, my cheerleader beta.  I asked her, Can you describe the personality of character X?  Y?  Z?  Yes.  A little.  No, not really.  (Z, aka MC)  What about Q?  (Q, aka MC’s mom, who has a secondary role at best.)  Oh yes!  Hmmm.  (note the exclamation point) I took the same quiz before her and came up with the same answers. 

What did I discover?   In writing back story for my main character I wrote a lot about her relationship with her mother because as a teen I found that your parents really shape you through their actions and or reactions or lack of actions.  In doing so I created a fabulous back story to my MC’s mother.

Argh!  Do you feel my frustration?  So today I wrote a 2500 Dear Diary for my character because she does not have a voice.   Now as my WIP moves through, like say by chapter 8, her voice is much louder.  That doesn’t work.  So, I’m at it again.  Starting over for the third and I have no doubt not the last time.

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Honest Scrap Award!

GapYearGirl123 over at The Book Bundle awarded me with the 'Honest Scrap' Award, which is for bloggers who write from the heart. ( I think it is a very cool award.)  The rules are to list 10 honest things about yourself, and pass it on to 10 other bloggers.

  1. I wear my heart on my sleeve.
  2. I can always find the good in everything.
  3. I believe Karma will bite you in the butt so be kind to everyone, especially your worst enemy.
  4. I don't like green peas. Blech.
  5. If I don't make it to the gym at least three times a week I am extremely irritable.
  6. I love potatoes.
  7. Dystopia scares the crap out of me.  And I always play out if and then scenarios just in case it happens in my lifetime.
  8. I love the color pink but I don't not advertise it because I fear people might think I am weak. 
  9. Hydrangeas are the most gorgeous flower.  I love painting them even though I am not very good at it.
  10. Music is my drug of choice.
I'm breaking the rules.  I don't know enough blogs personally to send 10 awards to but I enjoy the following and nominate them for their Honest Scrap:


Winged Writer - Catherine Denton
Pensive Sarcasm 
Where Ladybugs Roar
Megan Rebekah Blogs....and Writes
Shooting Stars


Not that there aren't lots of other fabulous blogs on my good reads list but these are the ones I peruse the most who have not received the award already.


Thank you Gapy!

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Flashy Little Bits...

Tuesday, December 1, 2009 6:27 AM Posted by Dana Elmendorf 4 comments
...of Fiction.  Here are my little gems of Flashy Fiction in the last week.  If you're not using you should be.


SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 2009
Sunday Funday
PROMPT:  All of the lights went out.
MY FLASH:  My nerves caused my legs to twitch.  I clutched them under my arms to keep from jerking so hard.
He slowly, cooly returned. “Hi.” His smile curled, slightly on one side more than the other.
“Hey.” My voice creaked, giving way to my nerves.
“Are you ok?” The palm of his hand rested on my bare leg, setting it on fire. The electricity from his touch made me feel seventeen.
“Great,” is all I could manage because he moved his lips inches away from my ear. I could feel his warm soothing breathe on my neck and smell the sweet minty kiss of his lips.
Quietly he whispered in my ear, “Are you ready?”
All of the lights went out.
SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 28,2009
Saturday Slam
PROMPT:  Judy Tate stepped directly in front of the flat screen, hands on hips.  The steely look in her eyes betrayed the smile on her face as she stared at her offspring.


The twins sat up at attention, eyes wide, video controllers stilled.
"I see you've put up the Christmas decorations outside...." she said.

MY FLASH:  Judy Tate stepped directly in front of the flat screen, hands on hips. The steely look in her eyes betrayed the smile on her face as she stared at her offspring. 
The twins sat up at attention, eyes wide, video controllers stilled.
"I see you've put up the Christmas decorations outside...." she said. "Would someone mind telling me how Frosty's nose ended up on Santa's groin?"
SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 29, 2009
Sunday Post


PROMPT:  I look at the beautician. "Chop it all off."


MY FLASH:  I look at the beautician. "Chop it all off." 


I ran my shaky hand through the blond bits of tiny fringe I had left.


The beautician’s nose crinkled in disgust, the usual first reaction when people saw me without my scarf. She corrected her expression and thoughtfully looked at the scissors in her hand.


“You’ll probably need to use the clippers.” I told her. “Just take it all the way down to the scalp.” I gulped down the rise of tears that started to well. I held on as long as I could to my long golden locks but my scattered threads and patches of hair scared me worse than it did my children.


The beautician grabbed the clippers and with a wobbly smile began to shear away at my last strands of life. I choked on the sight of myself, long clumps falling to the abyss of the concrete floor.


The doctor told me it was time to get my affairs in order, so I decided a haircut was long overdue.


[This is dedicated to my best girl whose mother just received the same prescription from her doctor.]
MONDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 2009
Monday Monikers


PROMPT:  "You know, they invented a word for guys like him."
Check out my buddy Diana's little bit of flash.  
(To order your "Rock-hard body alert!" t-shirt please click here.)


EDIT:  Just in case you are wondering who "The Bomb" is, randomly but I'll take it, it's Gw/1i!  I won the Flashy Fiction random give-a-way this month.  So besides flashing everyone, I got paid to do it.

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