Janice Seagraves's Blog, page 16
October 17, 2018
Snappy Banter by Janice Seagraves
Snappy Banter
By Janice Seagraves
The best snappy dialogue that comes to my mind is from the movies of the 30’s and 40’s, think Kathryn Hepburn, and Cary Grant. These are the two actors who I think of as the King and Queen of snappy dialogue.
Cary Grant example:
Eva Marie Saint (Eve Kendall): I tipped the steward five dollars to seat you here if you should come in.
Cary Grant (Roger Thornhill): Is that a proposition?
Eva Marie Saint (Eve): I never discuss love on an empty stomach.
Cary Grant (Roger): You’ve already eaten!
Eva Marie Saint (Eve): But you haven’t.
~*~
Snappy dialogue isn’t clunky, it flows. There a teasing quality to it and you can’t help to grin when it’s just right.
Kathryn Hepburn’s example:
Howard Hughes: [doesn’t hear what Kate says] Excuse me?
Katharine Hepburn: Well, if you’re deaf, you must own up to it. Get a hearing aid or see my father. He’s an urologist, but it’s all tied up inside the body, don’t you find?
Howard Hughes: Mmm.
Katharine Hepburn: Me, I keep healthy. I take 7 showers a day to keep clean, also because I’m so vulgarly referred to as “outdoors-y.” Well, I’m not “outdoors-y,” I’m athletic. I sweat! There it is, now we both know the sordid truth: I sweat, and you’re deaf. Aren’t we a fine pair of misfits?
~*~
I think some of my best scenes are in my book, Windswept Shores, where the dialogue just flows are the ones where the hero teases the heroine.
Windswept Shores’ example:
“If I had me a net, I could catch some of those fishies for dinner.” Seth paddled water while he gazed into the pool.
“Don’t you have a net on the boat?”
“We usually use fishing poles.”
“No, I mean to net the fish after you reel them in.” She swam over to him.
“I don’t reckon you know the difference between fresh and salt water fishing, mate.”
“Okay, what’s the difference?” She splashed water just in front of him.
His smile twisted to the side. “When you fish in the sea, they’re a mite bigger.”
“Okay, smarty pants, how do you get the fish into the boat?”
“You use a big stick with a hook to pull them in.”
“Oh, I think I did see that somewhere.”
“Probably, you accidentally lit on it when ya flipped through the channels on the box.”
~*~
The best way to learn snappy dialogue is to listen to it. Watch those wonderful films of the 30’s and 40’s, or anything that has snappy banter. If you’re lucky enough to know people who pick and tease in the same manner, then listen to their conversations. And it might just make you smile. J
It’s all in the ear. And it can be learned.
Windswept Shores’ example (it’s not all one sided, Megan gets her turn):
Walking back to the Dinki-Di, Seth complained with a glance at her bikini, “Why did you put your cossie back on?”
“I’m not comfortable naked,” she explained. “What if someone showed up while I’m undressed?”
He gazed around, then back down at her. “Megz, no one is here.”
“No, but you showed up not once, but twice, didn’t you?”
“Um, yeah,” Seth muttered with a slight frown.
“Can’t argue with that, can you?” She grinned. I love winning an argument.
~*~
Janice Seagraves bio: When not writing late into the night, Janice takes care of her hubby of thirty-one years and a just grown daughter. They are owned by an overly affectionate cat and two birds. One a handicapped dove and the other a pigeon who is in love with her husband (not kidding).
You can find Janice’s book, Windswept Shores: https://www.amazon.com/Windswept-Shores-Survivors-Love-Story-ebook/dp/B00AS9NDNO/
You can also find Windswept Shores on Barnes and Nobles: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/windswept-shores-janice-seagraves/1025707130
And on Smashword: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/446101
Janice Seagraves’s website: https://janice-seagraves.org/
Face book page: http://www.facebook.com/janice.seagraves
And twitter: http://twitter.com/janiceseagraves
Something warm to read while it’s really cold.
Windswept Shores by Janice Seagraves
erotic contemporary romance
novel (approx 50K)
price $.99
BLURB:
The sole survivor of a plane crash, Megan is alone on a deserted island in the Bahamas until she finds a nearly-drowned man washed up on shore. Another survivor, this time from a boat wreck. With only meager survival skills between them, will they survive, and can they find love?
EXCERPT:
Breathing hard, she flicked a glance at the teal-colored sea. She’d thought a vacation to the Bahamas would be the perfect getaway, would be a solution to the problems she and Jonathan had faced. She’d been wrong—dead wrong. Tears of grief filled her eyes. The never-ending crash of the waves on the beach and the cries of the seagulls seemed to mock her with the reminder she was utterly alone.
She’d felt like a tiny speck of sand last night when a violent storm had swept across the island. It had made a mess of her meager campsite, which had taken all morning to fix, and had demolished her seaweed SOS sign. She’ll have to recreate her SOS. Sighing, Megan trudged toward a pile of kelp. As she got closer, she saw a figure wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt. Her stomach lurched.
Oh, God, it’s another body washed up from the plane wreck. That would be number twelve. As always, she couldn’t help but wonder if the next one would be Jonathan. He hadn’t been wearing jeans on the plane, so she knew she’d been spared seeing his corpse this time. Thank God. She approached the body with dread. Tightening her resolve, she knelt. Suddenly the “dead body” coughed and rolled over. With a scream, Megan jumped back. She clutched her chest and pressed a shaking hand to her mouth.
He’s alive!
Biting her lip, she stared down at the still-breathing man. His drenched t-shirt molded against his broad shoulders and well-developed upper body. Short, golden brown hair stuck out in all directions.
Megan, get control of yourself. Don’t wet your pants the first time you finally see a living person. She got on her knees, plucked the seaweed from him and wiped the sand from his face. His day-old whiskers scratched her palm. Reddened skin stretched across both cheekbones and over the bridge of his nose. Her thumb caressed his parched full bottom lip.
She patted the side of his face. “Hey, are you okay?” That’s a dumb question. He isn’t okay.
“Hmm?” Gray eyes fluttered open. He stared at her a long moment, frowning slightly. “G’day.”
“Hello there.” She hated the sound of her voice. It sounded rusty, unused.
Abruptly he rolled away from her to heave onto the sand, making a loud, ugly retching noise.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then looked at her. “Sorry, mate, I swallowed too much sea.” His gaze went over her shoulder in the direction of the bonfire which crackled and popped not far from them. “Mite big for a barbie.”
Sitting back on her heels with her hands folded in her lap, Megan followed his gaze, then back to him. “My signal fire.”
“Signal for what?”
“Help.”
His accent intrigued her. Was he English or Australian?
“G’darn,” he looked around, “where the bloody hell am I?”
“Don’t know. There’s no one here to ask.” Megan shrugged helplessly, but couldn’t contain her curiosity. “Are you from England?”
“Naw,” he rubbed his eyes, “I hail from Sydney, but my port of call these days is Fort Lauderdale.” He blinked up at her. “You?”
Ah, he’s an Aussie. “I’m Megan Lorry, from Anaheim, California,” she said, barely loud enough to be heard above the sounds of the surf and the roar from the fire. “Are you a survivor of Air Bahamas flight 227, too?”
October 6, 2018
Vlog: Why Do Woman Write Feel Guilty
Why Do Women Writers Feel Guilty?
By Janice Seagraves
There’s a writer I know who says she feels guilty every time she works on her next book, because her three sons are eating microwave popcorn for dinner. I’ve seen a photo of her sons, and they don’t look starved to me. And I know for a fact she spends time with her boys. She even plays World of Warcraft with them and got addicted.
So why is she feeling guilty?
As women, we are taught to be a good mom we should spend all our waking hours worrying and fussing over our children, husband and home.
Here’s the deal, if your kids are big enough to work the microwave and can get things from the frig, then they’ll be fine for a few hours without you. Same goes for the husband or significant other. No matter how much they complain, they are not helpless and won’t starve.
My daughter knew I had an open door polices for her when she needed to talk. She’d sit down in the chair next to mine and wait till I got to a stopping place, and then we’d talk for a bit. Afterwards, she’d go back to her homework, and I went back to writing.
I’ve done all the important stuff: Holidays, birthday, field trips, shopping trips, and girl talks. I cook dinner most nights (Unless I guilt my hubby into doing it), and we eat together as a family.
I’ll admit there are days when the laundry piles up to the ceiling and cleaning the toilet has become a waiting game of who’s going to crack first, me or my husband.
When I started on this journey to be a writer, I knew there would be some sacrifices. One of these might be that the dust bunnies get another year’s reprieve, and the only thing that gets dusted is my keyboard. But that’s okay—because I’m writing the next book.
[image error]
Alien Heart, the first of a whole new SF series.
https://www.amazon.com/Alien-Heart-Chronicles-Arcon-Book-ebook/dp/B01N0N73OF/
Blurb: Divorcee and single mom, hardworking Audrey Westberry is the host of a cable TV show called Miz Fixit.
Romance was the last thing on Audrey’s mind when two handsome extraterrestrials join the audience of her show.
Soon Audrey finds out a single word “mated” has different meaning when you are born a galaxy away. After a wonderful night of passion, Audrey finds herself far from home, impregnated and her life turned upside down.
Will she ever be able to leave the alien compound, see her son again, or get home in time to film the fall season of her Miz Fixit show?
But what’s a girl to do with two aliens that smell like candy, and their kisses taste like it, too?
Excerpt: “Good show, everyone.” Derek, the director, walked through the dressing room. “So Audrey, how are you going to spend your summer hiatus?” Tall, dark-haired, with hazel eyes, and oh so married. He leaned on her chair and looked into the mirror at Audrey.“Oh hi, Derek.” Kendra made eyes at him again.Audrey frowned at her. If his wife ever saw her do that, she’d go ballistic.
To Audrey he was just a dear friend and director, who’d guided her through the complexity of cable television. “I was going to spend it with my son, but I got a call from my ex. Tony is going away to camp for eight weeks.”
“Camp?” He blinked in surprise. “Whose idea was that?”
“Tony and his best friend decided they wanted to go. My ex put him on the phone, so he could tell me.”
“Ouch.” Derek pulled down the corners of his mouth. “Best friend one, mom zero.”
“Yeah,” Audrey sighed, still feeling the sting of rejection. “He’s at an age now when friends are more important than mommy.”
“And, this is the dressing room where our star puts on her makeup for the camera.” Fox Watanabe, Audrey’s agent, was nattily dressed. His straight midnight hair and dark eyes marked him as pure Native American. He seemed to be acting as a tour guide to the aliens.
A cameraman entered the dressing room ahead of the aliens, walking backward as he snapped pictures.
Audrey grimaced. God, what’s Fox doing now?
“The aliens look like elves,” Derek muttered under his breath.
“Yeah, they do.” Audrey noticed their pointed ears and long faces. “They could’ve played extras on the Lord of the Ring movies.”
“Got to go, things to do.” Derek headed toward the exit, but he slowed, and his back stiffened as he got near her agent.
Audrey tensed. Please don’t let them get into another argument over me.
“Fox.”
“This is our little show’s director, Derek Alcorn.” Fox gestured toward him.
“Nice to meet you.” Derek gave a nod to the aliens. “I’ve got to button up the set.”
He hurried out of the room.
Fox turned back to the aliens. “He’s a busy man, lots of responsibilities.”
Audrey let out a breath. Fox had once again ignored the subtle dig Derek’s quick exit meant. The show’s director didn’t like chitchat, but he hated her agent even more.
“They have three penises each,” Kendra whispered in Audrey’s ear. She used a soaked cotton ball and ran it over the side of Audrey’s face to clean off the makeup.
Audrey turned to stare at her. “What?”
Kendra pinched Audrey’s chin, moving her head over to clean the other side.
“I saw a picture on the internet.” She whispered, “Two long ones and a little one. It makes you wonder what their women look like down there.”
Audrey licked her lips, trying to imagine the male aliens naked. Would their equipment look like my favorite toy?
Kendra moved back and smiled. “All done.”
Fox walked over to her, with the aliens in tow. “Here’s our Miz Fixit, Audrey Westberry.”
God, what a thing to tell me, just before I’m introduced to them. “How do you do?” Standing, Audrey held out her hand and tried not to glance at their crotches.
September 27, 2018
Blog Post
It was my turn to post on Romance Books “4” Us Blog:
https://romancebooks4us.blogspot.com/2018/09/free-on-kindelunlimited-exudus-arcon.html
September 26, 2018
Vlog: Writing Matters
Here’s my Youtube Vlog: Writing Matters
Writing Matters
By Janice Seagraves
When we write, everything matters. From sentence structure to what our characters are eating and drinking.
It has to happen in the proper order or it won’t make sense. And if it doesn’t make sense then it won’t make sense to your readers.
I was watching Malibu Country with Reba McEntire (I love anything Reba is in). In a scene where she talked to her Mamma, I started watching what Reba was doing. Reba picked up a mug and added a tea bag. I could see that little square that hung over the edge of her mug. She added hot water. Walked around. Took a sip, then another. Talked some more and drank more tea. Half her cup seemed to be empty, before she walked back to the counter and added sugar.
Do you see what was wrong here? Reba did something out of order. She’s such a pro that this struck me as odd.
One of the things I check for in the final read through of my writing, is what my characters are doing. Is it logical? Does it make sense? Is it in the right order? Are they adding the milk to the cereal, or cereal to the milk?
One of my daughter’s old PBS cartoons she used to watch had been really bad about doing things that defied logic. Characters would talk with a fork still in their mouths. Really? Wouldn’t that break their teeth?
Have you ever noticed something that happened in a book, movie or your child’s cartoon that didn’t make sense?
[image error]
Alien Heart, the first of a whole new SF series.
https://www.amazon.com/Alien-Heart-Chronicles-Arcon-Book-ebook/dp/B01N0N73OF/
Blurb: Divorcee and single mom, hardworking Audrey Westberry is the host of a cable TV show called Miz Fixit.
Romance was the last thing on Audrey’s mind when two handsome extraterrestrials join the audience of her show.
Soon Audrey finds out a single word “mated” has different meaning when you are born a galaxy away. After a wonderful night of passion, Audrey finds herself far from home, impregnated and her life turned upside down.
Will she ever be able to leave the alien compound, see her son again, or get home in time to film the fall season of her Miz Fixit show?
But what’s a girl to do with two aliens that smell like candy, and their kisses taste like it, too?
Excerpt: “Good show, everyone.” Derek, the director, walked through the dressing room. “So Audrey, how are you going to spend your summer hiatus?” Tall, dark-haired, with hazel eyes, and oh so married. He leaned on her chair and looked into the mirror at Audrey.“Oh hi, Derek.” Kendra made eyes at him again.Audrey frowned at her. If his wife ever saw her do that, she’d go ballistic.
To Audrey he was just a dear friend and director, who’d guided her through the complexity of cable television. “I was going to spend it with my son, but I got a call from my ex. Tony is going away to camp for eight weeks.”
“Camp?” He blinked in surprise. “Whose idea was that?”
“Tony and his best friend decided they wanted to go. My ex put him on the phone, so he could tell me.”
“Ouch.” Derek pulled down the corners of his mouth. “Best friend one, mom zero.”
“Yeah,” Audrey sighed, still feeling the sting of rejection. “He’s at an age now when friends are more important than mommy.”
“And, this is the dressing room where our star puts on her makeup for the camera.” Fox Watanabe, Audrey’s agent, was nattily dressed. His straight midnight hair and dark eyes marked him as pure Native American. He seemed to be acting as a tour guide to the aliens.
A cameraman entered the dressing room ahead of the aliens, walking backward as he snapped pictures.
Audrey grimaced. God, what’s Fox doing now?
“The aliens look like elves,” Derek muttered under his breath.
“Yeah, they do.” Audrey noticed their pointed ears and long faces. “They could’ve played extras on the Lord of the Ring movies.”
“Got to go, things to do.” Derek headed toward the exit, but he slowed, and his back stiffened as he got near her agent.
Audrey tensed. Please don’t let them get into another argument over me.
“Fox.”
“This is our little show’s director, Derek Alcorn.” Fox gestured toward him.
“Nice to meet you.” Derek gave a nod to the aliens. “I’ve got to button up the set.”
He hurried out of the room.
Fox turned back to the aliens. “He’s a busy man, lots of responsibilities.”
Audrey let out a breath. Fox had once again ignored the subtle dig Derek’s quick exit meant. The show’s director didn’t like chitchat, but he hated her agent even more.
“They have three penises each,” Kendra whispered in Audrey’s ear. She used a soaked cotton ball and ran it over the side of Audrey’s face to clean off the makeup.
Audrey turned to stare at her. “What?”
Kendra pinched Audrey’s chin, moving her head over to clean the other side.
“I saw a picture on the internet.” She whispered, “Two long ones and a little one. It makes you wonder what their women look like down there.”
Audrey licked her lips, trying to imagine the male aliens naked. Would their equipment look like my favorite toy?
Kendra moved back and smiled. “All done.”
Fox walked over to her, with the aliens in tow. “Here’s our Miz Fixit, Audrey Westberry.”
God, what a thing to tell me, just before I’m introduced to them. “How do you do?” Standing, Audrey held out her hand and tried not to glance at their crotches.
————————————————
https://www.amazon.com/Alien-Heart-Chronicles-Arcon-Book-ebook/dp/B01N0N73OF/
September 12, 2018
Updated My Book Trailer
I updated my book trailer for Exodus Arcon mini-book series 1,2,3
The only thing was I couldn’t find the same music I had before, so I had to find a new tune.
I hope you enjoy it. 
September 5, 2018
August 27, 2018
Blog post
I wrote a blog post on Romance Books ‘4’ Us Blog and made a vlog: Using American Idol to help with writing.
https://romancebooks4us.blogspot.com/2018/08/using- american -idol-to-help-with.html
August 17, 2018
Vlog: The Comma
Commas Lessons
By Janice Seagraves
Commas can be a bit tricky, especially for the novice writer. I’ve noticed some extra commas or none at all in some of the work I critique, so I thought this would be a good lesson.
Example:
Mary did the dishes and dumped the garbage.
Mary did both things, so there is no need of a comma here.
—————————-
But if you have two people doing different things in the same sentence, you will need a comma.
Not correct: Billy did the dishes and Mary dumped the garbage.
Correct: Billy did the dishes, and Mary dumped the garbage.
—————————
When you use dialogue and address someone you’ll need a comma right before or right after the names.
Example: Mary, can you dump the garbage?
Or Isn’t it your turn to dump the garbage, Mary?
And if you insert the name in the middle of the sentence like: Isn’t your turn, Mary, to dump the garbage?
———————-
Be careful where you put that comma. It can change the meaning of what you’re trying to say.
You might remember this meme:
Let’s eat grandma.
Let’s eat, grandma.
The comma causes a slight hesitation and can change the meaning of the sentence.
So, use the comma, and not eat grandma.
August 3, 2018
Vlog: The Black Moment
The Black Moment
by Janice Seagraves
The black moment is near the end of your story, right before the climax. It can also be the moment you’ve been foreshadowing during the entire story.
It’s the darkest part of your story, where everything looks the worst so you reader will keep turning pages just to find out if . . . your couple will get back together. The hero or heroine will survive the encounter with the bad guy. Or in the Movies: is Luke’s Father going back to the evil Empire’s side. The Mercenaries are going to kill Tree of Souls, and neither Jake nor the Na’vi can stop them.
Where it looks like all is lost.
So why do we write the black moments?
Because it make for a more compelling read and it makes the climax even more interesting, because that’s when you hero or heroine saves the day.
In my book Windswept Shores, my black moment involves pirates. Not the sexy pirates of the Caribbean, but modern day, nasty, thieving pirates of the Bahamas.
Excerpt, Windswept Shores:
Closer to camp, she heard voices. Oh, the self-styled-natives must be visiting again. Megan looked forward to their infrequent visits, and her Spanish was improving with use. They had also taken a second letter to her sons, if it ever made its way to the states, anyway. Maybe I can talk them into selling me some fuel?
With a lighter heart, she walked out of the bush, only to see suitcases and clothes flying out of her tent. Her wicker door had been cut off and tossed to the side. The deflated raft lay near it.
“Hey, what are you doing? Stop that.”
A dark head popped out of her tent. “Bueno dias, senorita,” he said with a gap-toothed leer, making Megan self-conscious in the bikini and sarong she wore.
A thump from the boat made her glance from the ugly man to the Dinki-Di. Someone was digging through the built-in tool box and setting things to the side. “Get out of the boat. It doesn’t belong to you.”
“Who might you be, little lady?” asked a man with dirty blond hair and a slight southern accent. He seemed to be supervising the men. He sucked on a cigar, blowing out a cloud of vile-smelling smoke.
“None of your business, that’s who. Tell your men to get out of my stuff,” she snapped. “You’re trespassing.”
“Trespassing is a matter of opinion, especially since your boat’s a derelict. We claim salvage rights.”
“The Dinki-Di is my home. It’s not a derelict.”
The man from the tent snatched her basket and stepped over to the blond man, stuffing fruit into his mouth. Juice dripped down his chin.
Startled by his hyena laugh, she took a step back. “Jerk. You guys are no better than thieves, you’re pirates.”
The blond tossed his cigar, took out a fruit, and shined it on his shirt before he bit into it. “Pirate is such an out of date word. I prefer the term entrepreneur, and these men are my employees.” He frowned at the plundered plum. “Ugh, it’s overripe.”
“Madre de Dios,” exclaimed the one in the boat, standing up as he dropped one of Seth’s huge sandals.
“Who else is here with you?” demanded the blond man, pitching his fruit to the side and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Megan glanced around at the strangers’ hard expressions. All at once, she realized what they saw; a short, unarmed, scantily clad female all alone on a deserted island. They even took my basket away. I could have thrown my produce at them and ran. God, there are no police! No people. Just us. They can do whatever they want, and who would stop them? Feeling like she had just swallowed a lump of ice, Megan took a deep breath and yelled, “Seth, help. I need you.”
That’s all I have for now. Before I go can you please like and subscribe. Thank you for watching.
———————————
Trade paperback: https://www.createspace.com/4084680
Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00AS9NDNO
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/446101
Janice Seagraves’s website: http://janiceseagraves.org/
July 31, 2018
Vlog: Conflict in Writing by Janice Seagraves
Conflict in writing
By Janice Seagraves
Most writers know that to have an interesting story which draws the reader in, you must have conflict.
Conflict = story.
One way to have conflict is to make your main character an underdog.
Why an underdog?
Because people love to root for an underdog.
Example: Remember Charlie Brown, trying every year to kick that football? Didn’t you root for him, even though you knew Lucy would pull that ball away each and every time, he tried to kick it?
That’s conflict.
Let’s face it, no one wants to root for Ken and Barbie who live an idyllic life in suburbia.
In my book Windswept Shores, I have my heroine, Megan have a really bad day:
Windswept Shores Excerpt:
If she had to spend one more day on this godforsaken island, she’d go stark raving mad. The thought spurred Megan into rolling a large log with one foot then the other, until it was near the bonfire. “God, this thing is heavy.” With a grunt, she lifted one end until it teetered upright then gave it a shove. It landed in the fire, embers swirling in the air.
Breathing hard, she flicked a glance at the teal-colored sea. She’d thought a vacation to the Bahamas would be the perfect getaway, would be a solution to the problems she and Jonathan had faced. She’d been wrong—dead wrong. Tears of grief filled her eyes. The never-ending crash of the waves on the beach and the cries of the seagulls seemed to mock her with the reminder she was utterly alone.
***
Another way to have conflict in a romance is to have newly divorced Ken, (Barbie ran off with G.I. Joe), have a miserable day—conflict.
Example: Say Ken’s Porsche breaks down on the way to work and he has to have it towed. As he waits impatiently for the tow truck driver, he’s mentally marking off all the things that went wrong that week (conflict). Just after he’s comes to the fact that he is alone and unloved the tow truck driver arrives. But a pretty woman steps out. It’s P.J. The baggy coveralls can’t hide her full (Mattel) figure and the grease smudges on her (plastic) face can’t cover up her lovely face or her Malibu tan. Maybe P.J.’s father or uncle owns the business, or maybe she owns it herself. Or maybe she’s not a tow truck driver, but a pick-up service for a car rental agency.
So Ken thanks his lucky star that he’s spotted this beauty, but when he asks P.J. out she turns him down—flat.
Why? Conflict.
No conflict—no story.
In my book Windswept Shores, I have Megan alone on a deserted island, until Seth washes up on shore. The first thing he does is sniff her hair.
Why? Conflict.
Windswept Shores excerpt:
“Are you from England?”
“Naw,” he rubbed his eyes, “I hail from Sidney, but my port of call these days is Fort Lauderdale.” He blinked up at her. “You?”
Ah, he’s an Aussie. “I’m Megan Lorry, from Anaheim, California,” she said, barely loud enough to be heard above the sounds of the surf and the roar from the fire. “Are you a survivor of Air Bahamas flight 227, too?”
“G’day, Megz,” he answered, struggling to sit-up. “Sorry, I’m not from your plane.”
Megan slipped an arm around him lifting his back off the sand. Turning his head to her hair, he took in a couple of short breaths. Megan pulled back staring at him. “What the—did you just sniff me?”
“Ya smell too good not to.” He grinned, causing his cheeks to dimple. “Name’s Seth Dawson.”
***
Whatever your conflict is, you’ve got to either keep it going or bring in some new conflict. New conflict is great, especially if you overlay it with the old conflict.
Example: Charlie Brown gets depressed about not kicking the football and visit Lucy at her psychiatrist’s help booth to tell her all his troubles. Then she basically calls him a loser.
Why? For additional conflict.
Lucy is the antagonist; her job is to cause conflict.
Back to Ken. He’s finally got P.J. to go on a date with him. Everything is great in Ken’s life right? But what if her business partner doesn’t like Ken and tells him so right to his face?
Why? For additional conflict. That partner is the antagonist for Ken’s story. He’ll keep poor Ken on his toes for the rest of the story.
In Windswept Shores, I have the wild pigs that inhabit their island for additional conflict. They are the antagonist and keep my characters down or at least running for their lives. I have them in place way before things getting hot and heavy between my couple.
Windswept Shores excerpt:
“You can’t charge boars barehanded. They have long, sharp tusks.” She frowned. “The last time I ran across a wild pig, I had to climb a tree.”
He slammed his fist on the boat’s railing. “I should have taken the offal out last night and buried them.” Opening a chest, Seth took out a spear gun. “You know how to use one of these?”
“No, I’ve only seen them on TV.” She set the eggs on the swivel chair.
“It’s just like on the box. You point and pull the trigger.” Seth demonstrated, loading it with a long spear with a wicked looking barb.
“What are you going to do?” She took the spear-gun.
Seth pushed the sharp end away from him. “I’m gonna make a bullroarer.” He brought out some heavy duty fishing line, tying a pointed weight to the end of it. “If I get charged, shoot. But try not to hit me.”
“I’ll try,” she said softly.
“Try a little harder than that, luv.” He grinned as he climbed down the ladder.
