A conversation isn't an interview
The 100-Word Challenge: I send you a 100-word prompt, and you write 100 words of fiction.
Welcome to The 100-Word Challenge, in which I send you 100 words of writing inspiration, and you write 100 words of anything you want—a novel, or a story, or just a quick sketch.
And if you find you’re itching to keep going, you can write more than 100 words. If not, you can stop there and feel great about the fact that you’re building a writing habit.
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A conversation isn't an interview
Dialog can make or break a scene. The most boring dialog usually reads like an interview—
Joe: “Why are you late?”
Jane: “Don’t be mad! I got stuck in traffic.”
What if instead of directly answering the question, Jane says something that reveals more about herself or Joe?
“Let me guess, you were twenty-five minutes early, as usual.” or “So you notice when I’m not around?” or “You know I can’t leave the house until the dog is asleep.”
How might you change your dialog to make it less direct? What can your dialog reveal about a character’s hidden motives or insecurities?
Feel free to share your 100 words in the comments.
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[Immediately following yesterday's entry]
The question surprised her. Was Poe suggesting that reality isn’t fixed, that the world is more than cause and effect, that life is beyond the sum of actions, decisions, and choices?
No! The odd slight man proposed the impossible, and she said so.
“You mean to say,” she continued, “that by going through that door, my Reggie will be standing there? That I’ll escape my problems, like…like stepping through that wardrobe in Lewis’ fairy tale?”
“How ironic – Clive had asked the very same.”
Beatrice stared blankly at him.
“It was after Joy’s death. Still, he found courage, and stepped through.”
Following on from days 1-3, this is part 4 of my story of Shala. I am looking forward to finding out where her story takes me, just as, i hope, you are wanting to read more too.
"Shala sat, fireside, watching the vision in the flames. She watched as the others realised it was she that had joined them in the fire. She waited for them to speak, knowing what she would say, if she were them. But she kept her counsel. Breathed slowly into the space. Waited. And one by one, their gaze turned to her. She caught no eye until she knew they were all on her. Taking a deep breath, she said “I am Shala, once a wielder of power and influence. Now I am yours as you are mine. Will you have me?”