S. McPherson's Blog: On my way to being a writer - Posts Tagged "ya"

As the writing wheels continue to turn against the sparking track, I notice a station named Dialogues Bluff rising in the distance. Looking out the window I eye the mammoth crest of the mountain looming over the neighbouring peaks. Each one holds a flag; one with the name, Voice and the other, Reality – two important factors when putting together dialogue.

As we trundle passed leaving Dialogues Bluff to blur behind us, my mind drifts to the characters of my own book and how they might say certain things. What is their voice? As a fun experiment, I pull out my notebook and jot some ideas down:

How my characters might express not doing something when asked:

Dezaray: I could but I don’t want to.

Lexovia: Not in this lifetime.

Milo: Give me one reason why I should; I’ll give you fifty why I shouldn’t.

Yvane: I couldn’t possibly do that

Jude: On the one hand I could. On the other hand I couldn’t. Which hand do you suppose I’ll pick?

Nathaniel: Not likely mate.

Howard: Not with a face like this.

How my characters might express being sleepy:

Dezaray: I’m shattered.Someone carry me.

Lexovia: Me. Sleep. Now!

Milo: As much as I’d love to stay up and chat – (fakes snoring and drool)

Yvane: I need to go to bed immediately.

Jude: Right; I’m off to the land of dreams.

Nathaniel: I’m knackered.

Howard: Time for my beauty sleep.

Drawing out my characters voices turns out to be a great way to pass the time and before I know it, the writing train is screeching to a halt at the next station…

This writing journey is like a roller-coaster that spans the distance of eternity. I used to tell myself that everything will be alright, I’ll be getting off it soon enough, that it will stop, has to stop, eventually. Now I see things differently. This writing journey; my writing journey, is a ride I will never get off and one I never want to. It will take me on downward spirals and loops that make me nauseous and want to scream, perhaps even soil myself…but…it will also drive me through the clouds so I might part them as if they are whorls of smoke, and dance across the raindrops as if they are stepping stones to the sun. It will take me soaring towards the stars, so high I can clutch them in my hands, feel their hot whisper on my skin.
And if the light of the stars burns too bright or if its heat becomes too scorching, I will give the star back to the sky as the roller coaster descends, plummeting down, ears popping like fireworks, heart thrumming like a broken wing, so I can do it all over again.

This is to be my life. One gut-wrenching ride after the other–book after book after book–and I wouldn’t change it for anything.