Me: I think I’ll take a little break. Cook something. I’m starving.
Him: Excuse me. You’re not done here today.
Me: Tomorrow
Him: Wus.
Me: Sadist.
Him: Then make me a beef Wellington. I also will have a Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon to go with it.
Me: That’s almost $6500 a bottle. You’re a carpenter—
Him: With gourmet tastes.
Me: Clearly. You cannot go into debt for wine. And I’m in the mood for pasta.
Him: It takes nothing to boil water. It can wait. So, in this new book of yours, I’m pouring the Screaming Eagle and I ask if she screams, too.
Me: In ecstasy, right? Not for other reasons?
Him: What do you take me for? Hannibal Lecter? He prefers Chianti anyway.
Me: You know him? No, don’t answer that. You are a God fearing, animal rescuer who makes beautiful things with his hands.
Him: Especially makes women scream in ecstasy.
Me: Tell me more.
Him: Thought you were hungry?
Me: There are many types of hungry. << puts hands back on keyboard>> I’m listening.
Him: You are so easy.
Me: If you want that cabernet you better deliver, buster.
Him: Then, we shall begin. So, there’s only one bed…
romantic comedy
Conversations With Characters #12
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
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
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.
It’s National Fruitcake Day!
Love it? Hate it? No matter how you feel about fruitcake, read a short story about how it brought two people together.
Read It Was All The Fruitcake’s Fault here!