Me: Well, if Dahlia and Rafi can keep their hands off each other, can we get back underway?
Beigel: Sorry about that.
Dahlia: Won't happen again.
Eden: Oh, yes it will.
Stryker: I have a question for you.
Me: Oh? Go ahead, ask away.
Stryker: Why did it take you until chapter four to introduce your main characters?
Me: Backstory, okay? I started fifteen years in the past. If I'd started with you and Meredith fifteen years ago...
Devon: It's Devon. Don't call me Meredith.
Me: Whatever. If I'd started with you two fifteen years ago, you'd both be, what? Ten, eleven years old? I don't know about you, but I doubt I'm suited for children's literature. So that's why I started out that way.
Stryker: And the second question is this. Why did it take you until chapter eight to mention the fact that I'm part Lakota?
Sabra: I was surprised to learn that myself.
Me: What is this, gang up on the author week?
Claire: Just answer the question, Mr. Kendall.
Me: Look, it's kind of bad form for a writer to drop all sorts of information about their character all at once. And it's not like you look like a Lakota. It just seemed natural at that point to make the reveal.
Cain: So it's not like you just decided in the middle of writing to tweak his backstory.
Me: Do I seem like that sort of fellow? You think I have no regard for my characters?
Dayan: I don't know. Look what you did to us.
Zaira: You killed our spouses, our children...
Me: Look, I'm really sorry about that...
Eden: Oh, he's sorry about it now. How nice.
Claire: He made me a widow straight off, you know.
Me: Listen, all of you. Everything I've done has been about advancing the plot.
Nahas: Including writing the assassination of a foreign leader? That's provocative.
Me: It's a spy thriller, damn it! Worst case scenario! It's supposed to be provocative!
Claire: Perhaps this really is gang up on the author week. You know, it occurs to me, Mr. Kendall, that I should, in my authority as director of MI6, take Mr. Reilly into custody. After all, he is the leader of a radical Irish terrorist group, and he doesn't seem to grasp the meaning of peace treaty.
Cain: Hey! You promised I'd be allowed to leave here in peace, Kendall!
Me: So I did. Sorry, Mrs. Tavington, that'll have to wait until another novel.
Claire: Damn. You're going to get yours, Mr. Reilly. Believe me on that.
Cain: That's nice, I'll make a note of that.
Nahas: I have a question.
Me: Go ahead, Mr. Nahas.
Nahas: What's this Very Bad Thing you keep talking about?
Me: You don't actually expect me to answer that now, do you?
Nahas: Damn. Well, I had to try.
Eden: Nice try, but no.
Devon: He won't talk.
Stryker: The bastard.
Me: Hey! Take that back!
Stryker: Take what back?
To Be Concluded....
Beigel: Sorry about that.
Dahlia: Won't happen again.
Eden: Oh, yes it will.
Stryker: I have a question for you.
Me: Oh? Go ahead, ask away.
Stryker: Why did it take you until chapter four to introduce your main characters?
Me: Backstory, okay? I started fifteen years in the past. If I'd started with you and Meredith fifteen years ago...
Devon: It's Devon. Don't call me Meredith.
Me: Whatever. If I'd started with you two fifteen years ago, you'd both be, what? Ten, eleven years old? I don't know about you, but I doubt I'm suited for children's literature. So that's why I started out that way.
Stryker: And the second question is this. Why did it take you until chapter eight to mention the fact that I'm part Lakota?
Sabra: I was surprised to learn that myself.
Me: What is this, gang up on the author week?
Claire: Just answer the question, Mr. Kendall.
Me: Look, it's kind of bad form for a writer to drop all sorts of information about their character all at once. And it's not like you look like a Lakota. It just seemed natural at that point to make the reveal.
Cain: So it's not like you just decided in the middle of writing to tweak his backstory.
Me: Do I seem like that sort of fellow? You think I have no regard for my characters?
Dayan: I don't know. Look what you did to us.
Zaira: You killed our spouses, our children...
Me: Look, I'm really sorry about that...
Eden: Oh, he's sorry about it now. How nice.
Claire: He made me a widow straight off, you know.
Me: Listen, all of you. Everything I've done has been about advancing the plot.
Nahas: Including writing the assassination of a foreign leader? That's provocative.
Me: It's a spy thriller, damn it! Worst case scenario! It's supposed to be provocative!
Claire: Perhaps this really is gang up on the author week. You know, it occurs to me, Mr. Kendall, that I should, in my authority as director of MI6, take Mr. Reilly into custody. After all, he is the leader of a radical Irish terrorist group, and he doesn't seem to grasp the meaning of peace treaty.
Cain: Hey! You promised I'd be allowed to leave here in peace, Kendall!
Me: So I did. Sorry, Mrs. Tavington, that'll have to wait until another novel.
Claire: Damn. You're going to get yours, Mr. Reilly. Believe me on that.
Cain: That's nice, I'll make a note of that.
Nahas: I have a question.
Me: Go ahead, Mr. Nahas.
Nahas: What's this Very Bad Thing you keep talking about?
Me: You don't actually expect me to answer that now, do you?
Nahas: Damn. Well, I had to try.
Eden: Nice try, but no.
Devon: He won't talk.
Stryker: The bastard.
Me: Hey! Take that back!
Stryker: Take what back?
To Be Concluded....
No comments:
Post a Comment