Archive for Friends

Pity and the Bottle

Posted in Dialogue, Fiction with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on September 1, 2016 by Rathan Krueger

POLLY
Why don’t you put the bottle down?

FRANCESCA
No point, didn’t you know? I’m worthless.

POLLY
No one’s worthless, Francesca.

FRANCESCA
Tell that to the dead.

POLLY
But you’re not.

FRANCESCA
Sure as fuck seems like it.

POLLY
You’re talking to me right now, and drinking more than you should. The dead don’t do much else besides bloat and rot.

FRANCESCA
Once a month, I get bloated and feel rotten. Same diff.

POLLY
That has nothing to do with being dead and you know it. What’s with this pity parade?

FRANCESCA
A gal can’t feel fucking sorry for herself sometimes?

POLLY
Not when it leads to being self-destructive.

FRANCESCA
I don’t see any broken windows.

POLLY
I see empty bottles.

FRANCESCA
Ah, shut–

POLLY
They weren’t here last week when I was here. Which means they were bought recently. You’re the only one who lives here. Which means that your liver and bladder are at least 70-proof.

FRANCESCA
Maybe I wanted to pretend I’m in college again.

POLLY
You hated college.

FRANCESCA
Then my behavior isn’t so outstanding, is it?

POLLY
Yes, Francesca, yes, it fucking is. You’re better than this. You’re so much better than this. We used to make fun of people who did what you’re doing.

FRANCESCA
And what, my captain, am I doing that’s bait for our mocking eyes?

POLLY
You’re trying to burn whatever problem you’re going through with fire water, but it’s never the answer. Not in college. Not now. Not when you’re dead. Talk to me.

FRANCESCA
I am talking to you. See? “Hi, Polly! Sunny day, eh? Want a cracker?”

POLLY
Is it because of something I did?

FRANCESCA
“I bet you think this song is about you…”

POLLY
You’re trying to make me angry and you’re scaring me.

FRANCESCA
You want scary, you should look at what I left in the bathroom. It gets really hard to find the toilet sometimes.

POLLY
What? What the fuck is it?

FRANCESCA
I’ve got you swearing.

POLLY
Yes, Francesca, damnit. You’ve got me fucking swearing. Are you fucking happy now?

FRANCESCA
If I was happy, would I be surrounded by all these dead soldiers?

POLLY
I know what you’re trying to do.

FRANCESCA
Oh? Share your feelings with the group.

POLLY
You’re trying to push me away. You’re trying to make yourself the victim so that you can feel better about this bullshit you’re putting your body through.

FRANCESCA
Actually, this is high-end tequila.

POLLY
I don’t care, give it to me.

FRANCESCA
No. And if you try to take it from me, I will beat you to death with it, bitch, I don’t care how long we’ve been friends.

POLLY
You’d break the bottle.

FRANCESCA
And I would sip whatever I could off your corpse. You’ve had body shots done off of you, you know what that’s like.

POLLY
Did something happen with your family?

FRANCESCA
No, nothing happened with my family. Nothing ever happens with my family. Nothing never-ever happens with my fucking family. Fuck, I thought you were my friend.

POLLY
Stop being condescending.

FRANCESCA
I’ll be what I want, I’m grown.

POLLY
Yes, you are, so stop acting like a brat.

FRANCESCA
Ooo, “brat”! I thought I had you swearing. You should’ve said something more along the lines of “bitch”. Or are you going back to schoolyard swears, doody-head?

POLLY
I don’t get you right now.

FRANCESCA
You’re not supposed to.

POLLY
Did someone turn you down?

FRANCESCA
“Want a cracker?”

POLLY
That’s it? You’re destroying your life because of a piece of ass?

FRANCESCA
Would that make me the stereotype? Would my pain be less valid if I was a trope?

POLLY
Nothing about you is less valid, Francesca, it’s just that…

FRANCESCA
Just what? A woman can’t have her heart broken and be a mess? I’m sorry if I’m not evolved enough to match your critique on modern femininity.

POLLY
Was it a man?

FRANCESCA
Why would it matter? Heartache is heartache. I didn’t know agony depended on gender. It was a hermaphrodite. There. Now the feminists won’t know what to make of me.

POLLY
I don’t… I don’t get…

FRANCESCA
What? Just because you have thoughts different from mine about relationships doesn’t make my problems enigmatic. I never felt that your issues were weird. Your jumping from person to person because you got what you needed from them… that sort of thing made you you and those you dated knew what they were getting into.

POLLY
But you’re killing yourself over someone.

FRANCESCA
I’m mourning what could’ve been. If that’s too romantic for you, there’s the door. I didn’t ask you to be a part of this. Fuck, I didn’t even ask you to be here. Why did you come here in the first fucking place?

POLLY
I wanted to… I wanted to know if… if…

FRANCESCA
Speak, bitch.

POLLY
I wanted to know if you’d be my fucking wingman, ok? But I know how fucking ridiculously absurd that is now, with the state of you.

FRANCESCA
Yeah, I think it’d be a bad idea to bring the relapsed alcoholic into a situation that made her slip up in the first place.

POLLY
…you were an alcoholic?

FRANCESCA
Wanna see my chips? Or what’s left of them. I cut ’em all up last night.

POLLY
I didn’t know.

FRANCESCA
That’s the thing about drunks: they’re very clever about hiding their problems. At least, until they throw up on a cop after they bust you for a DUI.

POLLY
But you can’t let yourself go, I don’t care who hurt you.

FRANCESCA
That’s the thing about romantics: they can.

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Daily Dialogue: Please See Me

Posted in Dialogue, Fiction with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on January 31, 2015 by Rathan Krueger

Late, late, but here nonetheless… Two women talk to each other for 40 minutes, with a little preplanned cheating on my part.

Jamie
How do I look?

Melinda
Tired. And red.

Jamie
Heh. So they did a good job?

Melinda
Your boobs still look even, if that’s what you’re getting at.

Jamie
That surgery happened months ago, so I hope the girls still look good.

Melinda
How do you feel?

Jamie
Sore in the right place.

Melinda
You mean in the gone place. You’re a card-carrying woman now.

Jamie
Yay. As long as I keep getting my pills. Yay. Ow.

Melinda
No sudden moves, remember?

Jamie
I don’t care how stupid I sound, and I’ll blame it on the morphine, but I’m so looking forward to the first time I pee sitting down.

Melinda
Just so you know… That sounds incredibly stupid. Some guys pee sitting down.

Jamie
What? Who?

Melinda
My ex, Nick.

Jamie
Nick squatted? How do you know?

Melinda
We dated for years. Eventually, you see your lover use the bathroom.

Jamie
Ew. I’m not. I’m barricading that bitch.

Melinda
Beggars and choosers.

Jamie
What do you mean?

Melinda
Not all guys… y’know… want women as special as you.

Jamie
Smart way of putting it. Don’t worry about me. I’ll get mine.

Melinda
Oh yeah?

Jamie
Yeah. And I won’t make the same mistake women before me made.

Melinda
What mistake is that?

Jamie
There are two guys in front of you, right?

Melinda
Sure.

Jamie
One of them is a skinny, nice guy. The other is a buff jerk. Both ask you out. Which do you let take your hand?

Melinda
Nice guys don’t ask women out. They’re too punch-drunk from getting turned down.

Jamie
And women get punch-drunk because they date the jerk. I’ll be a 21st-century girl and ask the nice guy out who’ll treat me right and make me cum. You all have fun with those black eyes and lonesome nights.

Melinda
You know… I wanna hate you, but you’re right. I had a choice between Nick and Smith–

Jamie
His first name was Smith?

Melinda
Weirder things have happened.

Jamie
Ok, ok.

Melinda
I’d still be with Smith if I chose him, cumming nightly according to you.

Jamie
I didn’t know him.

Melinda
Yeah, but you said nice guys are into that sort of thing. Nick wasn’t. Most guys who make the first move aren’t, actually… So there may be some truth in your 21st-century girl agenda.

Jamie
It’s shareware.

Melinda
Awesome. Is there any other mistake you’re not gonna make?

Jamie
Party buses.

Melinda
Huh?

Jamie
I feel women who use them are setback skanks.

Melinda
Heh, really? How so?

Jamie
You see them! They’re all loud and drunk and annoying!

Melinda
Since I’ve been female longer than you, allow me to enlighten you.

Jamie
Please do, Buddha.

Melinda
You’re gonna find out that the world has a much lower tolerance of you now that you’re part of the sorority.

Jamie
Ok…?

Melinda
Double standards, my dear. A man can act a fool and it’s expected. Even charming. A foolish woman gets chased out of town. Those party bus skanks act the way they do because it’s the one time they can act out and it’s expected of them.

Jamie
Even the one I caught pissing on the park bench that one night?

Melinda
They’re skanks. What do you expect?

Jamie
Well, I’m not gonna turn out like them.

Melinda
Where are you going when you’re healed up?

Jamie
Brazil.

Melinda
Why there?

Jamie
Get my lack of a dick wet. The transgender community down there is awesome and welcomed with open arms.

Melinda
Really? Why?

Jamie
Why ask why?

Melinda
Touché. Can I come?

Jamie
Ask those dude-bros you like so much…

Melinda
I get it, I get it! Make the first move and I’ll have a better life.

Jamie
People who have sex a lot look younger, and orgasms lower risk of cancer and heart attacks.

Melinda
What kind of books have you been reading lately?

Jamie
The important ones, Lindy. The important ones. I’m gonna be immortal!

Melinda
Planning on taking Brazil back with you?

Jamie
It can fit in the Grand Canyon, right?

Melinda
Yeah, but you hate the desert.

Jamie
I do. Damnit.

Melinda
Weird question.

Jamie
Weird answer?

Melinda
What did the doctors do with the… pieces they didn’t use?

Jamie
They can make dog food out of them, for all I care.

Melinda
Looks like I’m making my own from now on.

Jamie
Oh, like he cares. He ate a blanket once.

Melinda
Why are you the only one who remembers that?

Jamie
Your dog. Ate. A motherfucking blanket. Who can forget such a thing?

Melinda
Me?

Jamie
The more you lie to yourself, the uglier you are inside. Ugh. Mommy needs more from her morphine tap.

Melinda
Too much of that stuff makes you an addict.

Jamie
I’m sure the machine regulates it. If not, my insurance will.

Melinda
The almighty dollar. What’s morphine feel like?

Jamie
I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you because you’d know what you’re missing out on. That’d bring the worst out of you.

Melinda
I didn’t think about this until now, but you’re awful talky for someone high on painkillers.

Jamie
I know, right? But it’s working its magic, so why complain? I’m not.

Melinda
What would you have done if you were allergic to morphine?

Jamie
Chewed my tongue off. The amount of pain I would’ve been in, choking to death on mouth blood wouldn’t be so bad.

Daily Dialogue: Dying and Recovering

Posted in Dialogue, Fiction with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on January 29, 2015 by Rathan Krueger

Due to yesterday being hectic and a headache taking me down, I wasn’t able to write anything. But I’m back to normal now and with great news: I got a professional screenwriting job. Signed the contract Tuesday. As for now, two new women are up to my same old tricks. Talking to each other for 40 minutes with nothing planned.

Dana
Can life really be so bad?

Tricia
Depends on who you ask. The starving man has a different opinion than the wealthy man.

Dana
I’m not talking about economics, though.

Tricia
What are you talking about, then?

Dana
Just… life. Can it be so bad?

Tricia
Compared to what? Death?

Dana
Yeah.

Tricia
Well, I have no idea what happens after I can’t wake up anymore, so I’d have to say that life’s pretty good.

Dana
But what if death’s better?

Tricia
Can’t see how. Unless you count that psychedelic trip your brain gives you to sail you into the great nothing.

Dana
It does what now?

Tricia
Scientists found out recently that’s what happens when you die. Death is an acid trip, man.

Dana
I thought you didn’t know what happens when you die.

Tricia
I meant after that. With the info-crazed society we have now, I thought that would’ve been all over the place now.

Dana
Nyet. That’s what happens? Really? I better not take any of those drugs, then.

Tricia
Why?

Dana
They say that your first psychedelic trip is the most intense. Why deprive my good-guy brain the chance to astound me one last time?

Tricia
So you’ve never tripped before?

Dana
No, I’m too in love with my mental faculties to try something like that. You?

Tricia
Too afraid.

Dana
Why?

Tricia
I hear it’s essentially a direct tap into your subconscious. Whatever things you keep deep inside are put on parade and you can’t get away.

Dana
So it’d help to not hate yourself.

Tricia
Yeah. And to accept yourself.

Dana
See? Even death is telling you to love yourself.

Tricia
How can I? I’m so dirty.

Dana
You’re still carrying the baggage that abusive fuck made you carry. It’s a good thing you didn’t know me when you were with him. Or is it a bad thing…

Tricia
I get it, but he’s gone now and that’s what’s important.

Dana
He’s obviously not if you still think of yourself the way he made you.

Tricia
I was with him for three years and without him for eight months. Excuse me for not being quick on the recovery.

Dana
Has he tried getting in contact with you since last time?

Tricia
No, I got a P.O. Box like you told me, and changed my number so only important people and people who don’t know him have it.

Dana
Aw, I’m important.

Tricia
You do bake a mean cake.

Dana
Only good for cake, am I?

Tricia
And conversation. I guess. And today, I didn’t get sad when I woke up with him not there.

Dana
After eight months? You better had. But seriously, I’m proud of you.

Tricia
I’m proud of me, too… but I still miss him, sometimes. And I know what you’re gonna say, but you don’t know the job he did on me. The brainwashing and the–

Dana
I was gonna say that I understand. A few months ago, I wouldn’t have. Since then, I’ve learned to speak Tricia. A very odd language.

Tricia
I’m surprised you can get through my chicken scratch writing.

Dana
Hey, I didn’t say that I could read Tricia. That’s gonna take at least another year, so don’t write any legally-binding papers just yet.

Tricia
Darn. I was gonna draw up my will, too.

Dana
Which is a great way to go back to my question: can life be so bad? I mean, you spent three years of yours in an abusive relationship.

Tricia
Yeah, but I’m not four years old. And I still feel like shit, but it won’t last. I’ll eventually get over it and regenerate into The Third Tricia.

Dana
Third?

Tricia
The first one was life before the darkness. The second one is life in the darkness.

Dana
Ah. What do you want life after the darkness to be like.

Tricia
Bright.

Dana
Ha. Ha.

Tricia
I’d like to think that I won’t fall into another chasm, but people are stupid and love magnifies that stupidity. I can only hope that my strong arm is there to protect me.

Dana
As long as I don’t get splashed with love’s stupid juice, you can count on me.

Tricia
Is there someone on your radar?

Dana
No, but you know how these things go. Living your life until one day, you’re living their life.

Tricia
Yeah…

Dana
Oh, Tricia, I’m sorry.

Tricia
Don’t worry about it. I’m traumatized, not delicate. I don’t wanna kill myself every time someone makes an unintentional reference to old pain.

Dana
That’s good.

Tricia
Otherwise, my blood would’ve been on your hands the week after we met.

Dana
Did you know that the English make pudding out of blood?

Tricia
What? What’s it called?

Dana
Blood pudding.

Tricia
THAT’S blood pudding? I thought it was… I dunno, cherry pudding. Or strawberry pudding.

Dana
Nope. Type-O pudding for you.

Tricia
What’s kidney pie?

Daily Dialogue: Convincing Thievery

Posted in Dialogue, Fiction with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 27, 2015 by Rathan Krueger

Randomness collides with words for 40 minutes everyday as I wrangle two women in my mind and write their conversation.

Cassie
It’s just that…

Gemma
Yeah?

Cassie
We don’t really need to steal her cat, do we?

Gemma
Of course, we do. She got me fired and always goes on about her cat. So… we steal her cat. Make her suffer.

Cassie
The cat?

Gemma
No, we’ll treat the cat as if were our own. Better, even. It had to live with Justine, after all.

Cassie
Oh, ok. Wouldn’t it be simpler to just punch her?

Gemma
I have a glass hand, she might punch back, and I want her to suffer. She can’t suffer if she fights back after taking a glass punch anywhere.

Cassie
The shards might sever an artery, but you’re right. Wait. Why am I helping you steal?

Gemma
Because we’re friends?

Cassie
Friends don’t help friends break the law.

Gemma
Because she deserves it?

Cassie
Karma will get her. And if not, the cold entropy of death will.

Gemma
Because I asked you to?

Cassie
You ask me to do a lot of things.

Gemma
Because I’ll tell your girlfriend that you were cheating on her?

Cassie
You’re sick. You’re fucking sick. I’d never cheat on her.

Gemma
Yeah, but I’m your best friend. If your spouse’s bestie told you something, you’d be hard-pressed to not believe them. And cheating is, sadly, so prevalent in this species of ours. She might not believe me at first, I wouldn’t have any proof, but the seed would be planted. Every time an attractive woman, or man, passes by you, it’ll get watered. Every time you’re a little late getting home, it’ll get sun. Until one day, it sprouts and cracks open your dearest’s skull, taking rationality and your relationship with it. All because you wouldn’t help me steal a cat. Isn’t Anna your Neo?

Cassie
I hate you.

Gemma
Hate me later. We have to steal a cat.

Cassie
I’ll tell her that you’re lying, and why you’re lying.

Gemma
Wanna add shit to help the seed grow? You tell her that I was lying because you wouldn’t help me steal a cat. I’ll catch you on a rerun of “Maury.” You’ll break up the monotony of those paternity test episodes.

Cassie
I fucking hate you.

Gemma
But you’ll help me, anyway. Because you’re in love. I could never be in love.

Cassie
No shit.

Gemma
Well, I could be in love, I’d just try very hard not to be. It makes you do the stupidest things. Things you’d never, EVER agree to otherwise. I know that love is gonna turn me into a fucking retard, so I better make sure that they’re worth it. I bet Anna’s worth it to you.

Cassie
Don’t say her name again.

Gemma
I bet you’d gargle curdled milk for Anna.

Cassie
SAY HER NAME AGAIN, BITCH, AND I SWEAR I’LL–

Gemma
You’ll do what? Kill me? Because I said a name, or because you wouldn’t help me steal a cat? Let’s see how well that’ll hold up in court.

Cassie
Anna will–

Gemma
What? Wait for you? Because you murdered your best friend? Oh, how deluded love makes people… I guess hate makes people as irrational. I mean, I hate Justine. I’m gonna steal her cat and you’re gonna help me. But at least it isn’t murder.

Cassie
What…

Gemma
Hmm?

Cassie
…what’s the plan?

Gemma
That’s my girl.

Cassie
I’m not your girl. I’m not your friend. And after this, I’m nothing to you. I never wanna see or hear from you again.

Gemma
Cats make better company, anyway. They have the decency to bury the shit they cause. As for the plan, we start by going to Justine’s house later tonight. She lets her cat out after dinner so it can frolic or whatever.

Cassie
You staked out her house?

Gemma
How else can one plan a theft, silly. Haven’t you watched “Heat?” Anywho, we steal the cat by distracting it with bags of peppermint tea. Catnip’s a mint, but I couldn’t find any, so I bought a box of peppermint tea and tried it out on a few alley cats.

Cassie
You wandered alleys?

Gemma
A thief has to test their plan, don’t they? Besides, if it works on something feral, it’ll work on something domesticated. All experiments were a success. They were too doped-up on nip to care about me getting close enough to grab them. So that’s just what we’ll do to Justine’s cat.

Cassie
And put it where?

Gemma
I have a box for that.

Cassie
What if she sees us?

Gemma
She won’t because you’ll call her on her house phone.

Cassie
Why me?

Gemma
Because grabbing the cat is the hard part, and I wanna make this as easy as possible for my friend.

Cassie
Don’t you dare call me that after saying all that before.

Gemma
But I still consider you a friend. You may hate me now and will probably do so for at least the rest of your life, but I’ll always think of you as my friend. My best friend.

Cassie
Why did a fucking psycho like you get fired, anyway?

Gemma
Because I saw her cheating on her husband in the break room. It was after work so they thought everyone went home. I was busy preparing for the next day… then I saw her with a janitor.

Daily Dialogue: Your Loving Arms

Posted in Dialogue, Fiction with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on January 26, 2015 by Rathan Krueger

Two women attack, decay, sustain, and release their way through my mind for forty minutes.

Billie
How’d things go last night?

Leigh
I made a new friend.

Billie
That’s good.

Leigh
No. It’s not. I’m tired of making friends, Billie.

Billie
Gee, thanks…

Leigh
Making friends, not having friends, doof. I’m not a greedy woman, so I’m happy with the friends I have.

Billie
Aw. We’re happy, too. Except Trish, but that’s what happens when you invite someone who hates babies to a baby shower.

Leigh
Hey, I warned her.

Billie
We all did. So, what were you expecting to do last night if not make– Oh.

Leigh
Yeah. Is the tea done?

Billie
Cups are already laid out. Wasn’t it a speed dating something-or-other?

Leigh
Yeah.

Billie
And you managed to make a friend.

Leigh
A friend who went home with another woman.

Billie
Ouch.

Leigh
But that’s fine because he’ll call me. Hoo-ray. What’s wrong with this tea?

Billie
What do you mean?

Leigh
What bag did you use?

Billie
Ginseng and honey.

Leigh
This tastes like neither.

Billie
Oh, quit being a baby.

Leigh
I’m serious. I mean, I can kinda taste it… Is it supposed to be black?

Billie
“Is it supposed to be black?” It’s ginseng.

Leigh
Look at it, bitch.

Billie
Why is it black? And smells like– Oh, crumbs.

Leigh
What?

Billie
I forgot to take out the coffee grounds in the percolator before brewing the water.

Leigh
And the Darwin Award goes to…

Billie
Hey, that wasn’t a life-or-death situation. If that counts, then you not getting a date last night gets an award because you can’t keep your line going. I’m sorry.

Leigh
No, I deserved it, I called you a bitch.

Billie
Yeah, over coffee grounds. I shouldn’t have stabbed so deeply.

Leigh
Neither of us owns a TARDIS, so no use dwelling.

Billie
It’s probably a fixed point in time, anyway. Wanna talk about last night?

Leigh
What’s to say? Same shit, new dress.

Billie
Ew.

Leigh
Sorry. But it’s true. The leitmotif of my love life is the lack of it. You heard one story, you heard ’em all, and you heard that one story many times.

Billie
I could recite it in the dark, I could.

Leigh
So why bother going over it again?

Billie
To laugh?

Leigh
I’m past the point of laughing at pain anymore.

Billie
Back to crying?

Leigh
I don’t go in circles.

Billie
What’s past crying and laughing?

Leigh
Impotence.

Billie
Huh?

Leigh
Emotional impotence. The absence of caring.

Billie
So… You don’t care about dating?

Leigh
No. I’d like to date someday, but I don’t care enough to try.

Billie
It’s not really absence, is it?

Leigh
What would you call it?

Billie
Nigh-ambivalence?

Leigh
Look at the English major.

Billie
Hey, prefixes are more fun than people give them credit for.

Leigh
And you’re the only person for miles who thinks so.

Billie
That’s fine, I only need me to. What was the woman like who your new friend left with?

Leigh
Homely.

Billie
Really? That’s demoralizing.

Leigh
Preaching to the zealots.

Billie
Maybe he thought you were too awesome to be with.

Leigh
The first time that happened, it was flattering. Not so much, approaching the tenth time.

Billie
Oh yeah. Them.

Leigh
Yes. Them. I can’t believe you left the coffee grounds in. And didn’t notice something was wrong.

Billie
I recall you thinking everything was swell until you drank it.

Leigh
Because you’re a tea hoarder! Up until I met you, I thought Lipton’s was the only tea around. I stopped caring about what kind of tea you offered after my fourth time over here.

Billie
Emotional impotence.

Leigh
Ha. Ha.

Billie
So, what do you want?

Leigh
That Chinese Gunpowder tea. It has a fucking awesome name.

Billie
I meant with relationships.

Leigh
A wingman.

Billie
Why not ask me?

Leigh
Because you hate people.

Billie
Yet I love gatherings. And I want you to stop being a sad lump–

Leigh
Heh.

Billie
–and get some love outta life. I don’t need it, but you’re one of those romantics.

Leigh
STARVED romantics.

Billie
But not starved enough to sell your dignity on reality TV.

Leigh
I’ll throw myself down an up escalator before that happens.

Billie
Tumbling towards entropy.

Leigh
But yeah, I need a wingman.

Billie
I told you: I’m your huckleberry.

Leigh
Are you sure you won’t do the social equivalent of leaving the coffee grounds in?

Billie
Ugh. You’re never gonna let me live that down, will you?

Leigh
Not even at your wake.

Billie
Dunno why after suffering such indignities, but I’ll play nice with the masses if it’ll get you cuddles and kisses and WUV.

Leigh
Could you not put it that way?

Billie
What? WUV?

Leigh
Yes, please.

Billie
What’s wrong with WUV?

Leigh
It makes you sound five.

Billie
I’m just talking about WUV.

Leigh
Say it again and you’re drinking my tea.

Billie
Sorry.

Daily Dialogue: Frontstabber

Posted in Dialogue, Fiction with tags , , , , , , , on December 17, 2014 by Rathan Krueger

For 20 minutes, I write two women talking to each other with nothing planned. Haven’t done that last part in a few days, but that’s back.

Valencia
Why does it do that?

Meredith
Why does what do what?

Valencia
Music. Why does it move us?

Meredith
Because someone turned on some Yellowcard and it cleared the room.

Valencia
That’s not what I mean and you know it.

Meredith
That’s what I meant and I know it.

Valencia
Why do you always do that? Why do you have to deflect everything I say and demean it?

Meredith
I didn’t realize I always did that. If it bothered you, why only tell me now?

Valencia
Because… Because…

Meredith
I haven’t changed much in the years you’ve known me, so this is a trait that didn’t suddenly bubble to the surface. It’s been there since the dawn of our time. So why bitch a fit now?

Valencia
I guess it’s because… I want you to change.

Meredith
You’re not gonna come out to me and pledge your undying devotion to me, are you?

Valencia
No, Meredith… This is exactly what I mean! Why can’t you have a serious conversation with me?

Meredith
Why do you wanna have a serious conversation with me?

Valencia
Because I want you to change!

Meredith
Why?!

Valencia
Because I want to know that there’s more to you than someone who jokes about everything! Who can’t exist without living in a blanket of… of…

Meredith
You find out what people think of you in the strangest situations.

Valencia
But it’s true!

Meredith
Riddle me this: have you ever challenged me intellectually?

Valencia
I just did a few minutes ago about music!

Meredith
No, you didn’t.

Valencia
Yes, I did!

Meredith
No. You didn’t. You asked me some metaphorical question that I couldn’t bother myself with. You always do that.

Valencia
I’m sorry that my brain reaching out to you isn’t worthy of your time.

Meredith
When have you asked me about the problems in the world?

Valencia
What?

Meredith
The world’s full of problems, or did music move you away from that?

Valencia
The world’s too big and there are too many problems to focus on so–

Meredith
You ignore all of them? And ask airy questions? Even if you pick one problem to work against, you’ve done something major. But you don’t. You pontificate– Bet you didn’t know I knew that word! You pontificate about the banal. Boringly anal. And like the portmanteau suggests, it’s a shitty life.

Valencia
So why don’t you go away?

Meredith
Why don’t I?

A Quickie Update About “Nostalgia Season”

Posted in Blog, Making-Of, Nostalgia Season with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on January 10, 2014 by Rathan Krueger

I’m close to finishing the first chapter. I didn’t realize how much writing I’d be doing when I told myself to write eight massive chapters… I have a habit of throwing myself into situations that might be too big for me without thinking them through until I’m in the middle of it. I figure things out in the end, though, which is one of many reasons why I relate to “Doctor Who”. In case anyone forgot, I’ve split the chapter (and all subsequent chapters forever) into a series of notecards that break down the chapter into sections. I can’t express enough how much easier it makes writing (thanks, “Breaking Bad” special features). I’m almost finished with the seventh of nine cards. Something interesting happened as I was writing. I didn’t get to the notes on the card until pages after I started writing. The card involved a trip to another city and was written in a way that made most things happen after Luciana and Sadie got to where they were headed. But I didn’t get a chance to make Sadie say what she needed to in a previous card. Or rather, I felt that she had more to say. The previous card had her pretty manic so she couldn’t get a story out in its entirety. She said enough, I thought, so I moved on. That was my original intention: for her to say Just Enough. But I had a feeling that Everything Else would come out in later chapters, and I didn’t want that. I wanted what’s bothering her to get out of her system by the end of the chapter because she and Luciana have SO many more places to go emotionally. I also started cluing in on how people, when they have something bothering them to the point of tears, don’t say everything all at once. They blurt out pieces and later on, when they’re calmer and unprovoked, will say everything. Those two things made the current card take place mostly in the car ride.

Originally, Sadie was supposed to find her ex and unload all her emotional baggage on her. However, it felt superfluous after the car ride because I felt that she got everything out, mostly. And it was SO draining writing that car ride, but it was great because Sadie was feeling so drained as she was saying what she had to. It’s part of the reason why I’m not done with the card yet. I knew that if I kept writing after where I stopped, I would’ve rushed everything and felt like shit afterwards. Anywho, Sadie still finds her ex but I found a more elegant and concise way to handle their meeting. And I’m gonna enjoy editing this chapter because Luciana’s really becoming defined at this point. In the back of my head, I’m constantly reminding myself “Don’t make her like Idette! Don’t make her like Idette!” The way I’ve found my way to Luciana (well, one way) is that I think that Idette (from my first novel, “Lie”) had something to prove, whereas Luciana has nothing to show. Reflecting on her, Idette came off as overcompensating. Luciana’s an innocent. And people are gonna think that I’ve made Luciana too unrealistic when it comes to her innocence, but women like her exist. I knew one like her for years. That’s not to say that Luciana’s modeled on her, just that I know she’s coming from a true place. Anywho, there’s a moment at the end of what I’ve written so far that IS Luciana. And it’s great because it’s so different from the moment that made Idette to me. Idette, in the initial writing of “Lie”, became Idette when she was recollecting a story to Fantine to get a reaction out of her. Luciana’s moment is when she bellows the most vulgar thing she can think of to Sadie’s ex, then turns to Sadie and smiles at her “like a cheerful child wanting their parent’s approval”. As I write, inspirations for future chapters hit me and I feel that Luciana’s a bit like a sponge in that she starts absorbing traits of those around her. That won’t show itself in this chapter because she hasn’t had time to but she’ll start picking up bits of Sadie in the next chapter.

I’m not sure if I’ll post the complete first chapter when I’m finished. I don’t mind doing it, it’s just that it’s MASSIVE and I a) would feel bad dumping all those words on you all, and b) would feel worse if no one read it. Yesterday, it hit me that among other things, I’m writing a friendship-at-first-sight story. I was thinking about how quickly Luciana and Sadie became friends and how that doesn’t usually happen. Then I thought about how it’s not so weird in romances, two people falling in love tout de suite. Heck, “Terminator” took place during one night and Sarah fell in love with Kyle. One of the things that I know will keep popping up in what I do is the concept of friendship. You’ll be seeing far more things from me about that than romances (I have a romantic story in me, but it’s rather apocalyptic) because I feel that there’s too much of a push for romantic stories these days. It’s like if you put two people in a room, they have to kiss before they leave it. I say be friends (says the hopeless romantic). One of the reasons why I love “Hot Fuzz” and definitely “World’s End” much more than “Shaun of the Dead” is because they aren’t about getting the girl in the end. And I’m tired of the term “bromance”. Everyone’s so afraid of having two guys be as close as friends as two gals can be that they have to make up a fucking stupid word for it. I have no ending to this brewing rant so I will simply take a bow.

Ha! “Quickie” update…

Come read the first four chapters of Idette’s adventure with three other women. Then skip o’er to your local eBookstore and pick up “Lie” for only $1.99. Thanks for reading.