romantic comedy

Conversations With Characters #12

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A sneak peek into my conversations with random characters that show up with story ideas. Some are better than others!

Him: Okay, so we’re at a wedding and I slept with one of the bridesmaids and she’s now stalking me and I run into a broom closet to escape where I find–
Me: Stop. I can’t start a new story. I’m not bringing my laptop to Australia.
Him: Ah, but I run into a woman in the closet, Clementine, who hates me.
Me: What did you do to her?
Him: What happened to not being interested and not bringing your laptop to start a new book?
Me: I’m not. If it’s a great idea, I’ll remember it when I get home.
Him: [[Bent over in laughter, waving his arms]] Stop. You’re killing me. Your brain’s a sieve.
Me: Excuse me, but you’re the one who has to make it memorable.
Him: [[Rises up to full height, wipes tears from eyes]] She’s a veterinarian who saved my dog so I asked her out only she didn’t show because her father suddenly died, and then I showed up to the funeral only to find out she was married, and then I started dating her sister. But she dumps me, and I get invited to her wedding. I go, naturally.
Me: What do you mean “naturally?”
Him: Weddings are fabulous places to meet women. Anyway, I see Clementine there, find out her sister is marrying her ex husband.
Me: Who’s ex husband?
Him: Clementine’s. Try to keep up.
Me: So now Clementine is divorced, you lock eyes across a crowded room and fall in love?
Him: No, no. See? Your brain is a sieve. I run into the broom closet and find Clementine there balling her eyes out. So, I suggest a plan. We have sex in the bridal suite upstairs. It’s a revenge story–
Me: Alright. I’ll consider bringing my laptop. But why does Clementine hate you? Were you terrible in bed? 
Him: Pfft. Hardly. I might have snuck out, and the sister and ex-husband-now brother-in-law found her asleep in their bed alone. Clementine was exhausted from her screaming out my name in ecstasy.
Me: You left her? Coward.
Him: What? I left a note.
Me: So leaving the laptop at home.

Conversation With Characters

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He’s the first character to show up in 2023. #overachiever

Him: Welcome back, slave.
Me: Wow, someone returned from the holidays with vim and vinegar.
Him: It’s vim and vigor.
Me: Starting out calling me slave isn’t the way to my heart, ya know.
Him: I thought we agreed to be honest with each other.
Me: Then, let me start out by saying this is a collaboration.
Him: Of one.
Me: Now who is making up their own definitions?
Him: Let’s get to it. I want a red-head next time. A master gardener who is allergic to the sun. I get to run heavy machinery. Flex my manly muscles while she sits under a shade tree and directs.
Me: Boring.
Him: How about she’s a modern day pirate with a crisis of conscious when she boards my yacht used to transport rescue puppies–
Me: Too far fetched.
Him: I’ll make them Westies. Wearing little life jackets.
Me: Not even then.
Him: She’s a cruise ship tantric yoga instructor on a single cruise and I get to fend off sixteen over zealous male passengers, only the boat starts to sink and she most definitely makes room for me on her door.
Me: There’s always room on the door.
Him: Of course we have to test the balance by having sex.
Me: Of course.
Him: Except she’s allergic to the sun and —
Me: We’re back to that redhead? Why don’t you go swim back to the boat and get her sunscreen. Flex those manly muscles.
Him: On it. <splash>
Me: <<Snaps laptop shut>> Let’s see how long he can swim, shall we? <<Goes to get wine>>

Was that mean?

Conversations With Characters

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My hero from my current WIP. #SoBossy

Him: You’re making me too nice.
Me: You rejected your date.
Him: Of course. She isn’t the heroine.
Me: But going on a date, where the heroine could see you “in action” was part of the plot. To show how well you treat women and make her jealous right off the bat.
Him:  Stupid plot. Just let me at the heroine. I’m ready.
Me: No. You made your date cry and now the heroine wants nothing to do with you.
Him: Don’t look at me. You wrote it.
Me: What happened to “you’re just the typist to my dictation?”
Him: I changed my mind, which I’m allowed to do per the Character Code, the manual all characters follow.
Me: Let me guess. It includes a section on how to drive a writer crazy.
Him: Chapter one, baby.
Me; It’s the holidays. You’re supposed to be nice to everyone, including me.
Him: Okay, I’ll stop talking altogether.
Me: Wait! Don’t you have a great idea for me? To replace the quote-unquote stupid plot point?
Him:
Me: Hello?
Him:
Me? Heeeeelooooo?
Him: Silent Night. Holy Night.
Me: Is that a message?
Him: Yes. Take a load off.
Me: Aww, you are nice.
Him: Don’t get used to it.

A Thanksgiving Letter – From Scarlett

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Scarlett  (From It Was All The Daisy’s Fault) took over! You see, Greta owner of Peppermint Sweet, left her in charge over the holidays. She believed Cole “settled” her a bit. Oh, ye, of so much faith! Scarlett will always be herself no matter what, and I believe this Thanksgiving Day letter proves she cannot be tamed.

Hi Peppermint Sweeties,
Happy Thanksgiving! It’s me, Scarlett. The woman who makes all your dreams come true, i.e. spins magic via an espresso machine.

Greta and I would like to thank you for your loyalty and patronage over the last few years. We’ve had a blast sating your sugar cravings and caffeine needs at our little bake and coffee shop—and that’s all thanks to you.

Also a big thank you to all who voted for Peppermint Sweet in the Moorsville Best Of list put out by the town’s City Paper. We would like to congratulate Starbucks, which came in first. Truly. They keep us on our toes. I mean, they don’t have a bistro table in a floor-to-ceiling, front window whose chairs have heart-scrolled backs–and which have seen a dozen marriage proposals over the years. They also don’t have Chloe’s magic pies. Or, my cake decorating skills. But we don’t mind them winning. Really.

Now. On to Peppermint Sweet’s holiday menu! You have parties to plan, catering to order, and wishes to make (remember Chloe’s magic pies).

Chloe’s pie menu has been up for six hours and you all scare me at how sugar-addicted you are. She does have a limit, however, so click here to order. Like, today. Seriously.

After all, you heard about Phoebe and Henry, right? I am not going through what happened between those two lovebirds who fought over the last fruitcake last season. It’s how they met but fighting over a dessert is just sad even if ours will turn your ideas about fruitcake around.

(Waving to Phoebe and Henry who got married last month. We catered. Yes, fruitcake was on the menu.)

Anyway, don’t be them. A wedding coming out of such a confrontation is not guaranteed. Even if you consume an entire cherry love pie made by Chloe.

Instead, be you.

Order on time.

Then get in here because I will sell anything that isn’t picked up and I hate it when you get all sad and we’ll end up back in the kitchen baking together because no way will I let you walk away empty-handed.

(Kudos to Mrs. Stevens who at least brought wine to our late night bake-a-thon when we ran out of the red velvet cupcakes she had to have for an event. Some of them even got frosted before I passed out.)

PLACE HOLIDAY ORDERS HERE. In advance. Really.

Love and Kisses,
Greta, Scarlett, and Chloe