Actions Don’t Always Speak Louder Than Words

Education Concept

I’m back with a shiny new writing exercise. The job was to play out a pivotal scene purely in dialogue. So I stole a scene from a YA Sci-Fi I’m working on and went to town. The idea is to introduce you to how little you actually need those twiddly little bits of stage business you might (if you’re like me) find you’ve been relying on a tad too much to propel your action forward.



          “So you met him then?”
          “And you believe me now?”
          “Be more specific. Which of the improbable and/or impossible things you’ve asked me to believe are you referring to?”
          “That you have to stay. That your DNA answers the problem we put to the algorithm. I told you it was you when we met. You didn’t believe me.”
          “Oh, that. In my defence, you were a stowaway on my recently-stolen spaceship at the time. I’d just woken up in the future, and I’d been a three hundred and sixty-six year old cyborg zombie for about half an hour. Wasn’t in a trusting mood.”
          “Are you ever?”
          “Look at me.”
          “Not right now.”
          “Are you crying?”
          “I do not cry!”
          “See… knew I could get you to look at me.”
          “Jack-and-travel or tell me what you want, pok-head.”
          “Came to see if you’re ok. Should’ve saved myself the lashing. Who’d’ve thought a nice Vintage like you’d pick up local tongue so quick… Are you? Ok?”
          “Sure, vacbrain, green-lit. I’m shackled to an intergalactic corporate war beca–”
          “Because of a computer.”
          “…Yes… because of that… So, yeah… peachy keen.”
          “Peachy what?”
          “You know I don’t owe you people anything. You’re the ones who broke the ‘verse. I was sleeping in an icicle when you made this mess. Just because she’s…”
          “You said she… she who?”
          “No one. ‘Byss! They came up with a fancy sum, and Kynaston treats it like it tells the future.”
          “It does. ”
          “No, Mad. It does not. It’s the law of large numbers, not a jacking crystal ball.”
          “What’s a-”
          “Forget it! Void take you! Ask your precious computer if you care so much. This is my life you’re tossing away on the word of a fistful of wires! A life I gambled everything to get, and maybe I already lost, what with waking up after 300 years a fugitive and a slave, but it’s still my life. Have you math-worshiping lunatics even considered that?”
          “Cece, sit down. Please. You’re not making sense. ”
          “I’m making perfect sense, you patronising son-of-a-motherboard. Where I’m from there were people making the ultimate decisions. You know why, Mad? Feelings. Computers don’t feel. They don’t know about emotion. They don’t understand. Mathematics doesn’t understand. Your beloved equation doesn’t know that she won’t care who I am. I won’t bend her one bit. She’ll mow me down right beside the rest of you.”
          “What are you talking about? Who?”
          “You combed the ‘verse for me because you asked that algorithm how to topple my– how to put an end to Jaxa Combine, and it spit out my DNA. What did you think would happen? You’d find me and I’d conveniently be a huge badass? Battle-ready. Yes sir, no sir, three bombs full sir? Well I’m sorry to disappoint everyone, but I’m just a girl. Not even a whole one of those anymore.”
           “Cece? Cece, wait. Come back!” 


I’m mad inspired, so I’m off to write the scene that comes after this one!

Bye for now


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