If Characters Had The Pen...er, Keyboard.Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Right now, I should be editing and revising my manuscript, but funnier things keep grabbing my attention. For instance, I've suddenly begun to wonder: What would it be like if my characters fought me for the pen? What would they demand? What would they want to do? The whole idea has me giggling...
The scene is set in 1941, and Pandora radio is set to Ella Fitzgerald. Rose, my rough and ready character bounces off the bed. Her silk robe hangs loosely over a slip. She spills hundreds of hair pins all over the wooden floor. With finger nails still wet with "Frankly My Dear" red nail polish, she looks up at me, a smile tipping one corner of equally red lips. "Ah, come on now, Toots," she would say with that Chicago attitude I gave her. "You know how I like to dance. How 'bout some Boogie Woogie? I wanna hear some Chattanooga Choo-Choo!"
Rose's roommie and coworker at Sternberg Hospital in the Philippines (they're WWII nurses, don't you see?) jumps in. I've made her the softer spoken--the good girl, so to speak. She doesn't like the one bit. "Now lookie here, Doll," she demands, hands on her dainty waist. "Why don'tcha let me get a kiss in with this Captain Dalton fella?" Her nose wrinkles up. "Actually, now that I get to throw in my two cents, how's 'bout you let me snuggle up with his best buddy, Rafe?"
"Now, wait just a minute, Sugar!" Rose gasp, red-faced. "Rafe is mine!"
"Yours?" She cocks her head with attitude. "We'll just see about that." Looking back at me, she begs with a whine, "Come on now. Give me just a little kiss with Rafe. Lets make Rosie here really mad. You give her all the fun, anyhow. And what do you give me? Nothing but that goody too-shoes, Peter Dalton!"
Rose grabs her friend by the throat. She's fighting mad. "I told ya, Rafe is mine!"
"Hey, at least she doesn't kill you off!"
I clear my throat and tap on the computer screen, trying to regain some sort of order over this situation. For some reason, the tap reverberates through the computer and rattles the ladies. They struggle to regain their balance. "Ladies...now, ladies. Calm down." I look pointedly at Pearl--my good girl. "What makes you think I kill you off?"
She narrows her eyes, glaring up at me. "It's the way you press the keys when you write my scenes. I can feel it."
"Feel what, exactly?"
"Feel that you're gonna kill me. You're the devious kind."
"That's ridiculous," I would say...knowing full well that she is right. ;)
I wonder what Peter and Rafe would demand? I'm sure that if Peter knew how Pearl truly felt about him, he'd be demanding that I send him off to a new book--one with a bombshell blonde in a tight, satin dress. Maybe I should send him off to my Hollywood manuscript? I bet he'd stumble all over himself as soon as I sat him down in the Black Kat nightclub where his bombshell--Delilah Love--would croon for him.
But poor Delilah has been through enough. If only you knew the troubles she's seen! :)
Okay, okay. That's quite enough of this nonsense. Enough distractions from the real project at hand. Back to the editing...
But, while we're at it, what demands do you think your characters would ask of you? ;)
PS: What an embarrassing post.