J. J. Maxx's Daily Dose of Dialogue!


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Thread: J. J. Maxx's Daily Dose of Dialogue!

  1. #1

    Post J. J. Maxx's Daily Dose of Dialogue!

    "Hello!" said Mr. Maxx, welcoming everyone to the thread. "I'm glad you are here!"

    This thread is for all you writers to break out of your boring, description-laden prose and get your characters talking! I will post a prompt daily* and it will provide you with an interesting or unique situation where you would find dialogue being spoken. It may be two characters conversing with each other or one character yelling or seven characters chatting over dinner. Either way, we are going to focus on the dialogue, all but ignoring (mostly) the narrative.

    Feel free to use your imagination to set the scene however you wish. They are your characters and they will have their own voice!

    There is no word limit!

    I highly recommend discussion on the prompts, including but not limited to saying what you liked about other entries. Of course, if you see a way for someone to improve their writing, let them know in a constructive and respectful way! We are all here to grow and learn! Oh, and have fun, because for me, there is nothing more enjoyable than writing dialogue!

    So lets' get started!

    Prompt #1
    One of your characters discovers an intoxicated man sitting in the middle of a busy street.
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    "He was a dreamer, a thinker, a speculative philosopher... or, as his wife would have it, an idiot." - Douglas Adams


  2. #2
    WF Veteran Mistique's Avatar
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    Ann - a semi drunk nineteen year old girl sits down next to him, ignoring traffic and says: "Is this fun?" She looks him in the eyes. "I've tried this with trains, but you're idea probably works better. Trains take forever to wait for!" She studies him a bit closer. "Are you planning on jumping out of the way in the last moment or are we going to risk it? See who hits us first. A bit like Russin roulette I guess. I've never done that before!"
    I long for the day when MS stands for mystery solved!

  3. #3
    Joel heard the screeching of tires and some shouting obscenities. Turning the corner, he saw a man in a brown overcoat sitting in the middle of the street. A yellow taxi driver was honking their horn at him.

    “Get out the road!” the taxi driver yelled. The man in the street didn’t seem to pay any attention to what was going on around him, least of all the irate cabbie laying on his horn.

    Joel walked up to the man. “Um…Hey man, you should probably move out of the street.”

    The man looked up at Joel. His eyes were bloodshot and large bags hung under them. “Why?” said the man, slurring his words. “What does it matter?”

    “Well,” said Joel. “Normally people stay away from the middle of the street, with the possibility of death and all that.”

    “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Not anymore. She’s not coming back. Nope. Gone. Gone forever.” The man pulled a bottle from his jacket pocket and took a long swig, almost falling backwards.

    “Who’s gone?” said Joel. “Your wife? Did she leave you?”

    The man looked up at Joel, as if suddenly realizing he was having a conversation with a real person. “No… My muse. My sweet, sweet muse is gone. Now, I am nothing.” More cars backed up down the street and joined in the chorus of horns. The man yelled at the cars. “Ya hear that! I aint anything no more!”

    “Your muse? So, are you some kind of artist?”

    “Eh? What?”

    Joel could see this conversation wasn’t going anywhere and he knew the police would be paying them a visit shortly. “Look,” said Joel. “Why don’t we head over to the café and let me buy you a coffee. I think I might know how to get your muse back.”

    The man perked up. “You do?”

    “Yes, but you have to come with me right now.”

    “Well,” said the man, hesitating. “Alright.”

    Joel helped him to his feet and pulled him out of the road. He wasn’t sure why he was helping him, but he was feeling extra generous and thought his karma could use a hefty deposit after the morning he’s had.
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    "He was a dreamer, a thinker, a speculative philosopher... or, as his wife would have it, an idiot." - Douglas Adams


  4. #4
    WF Veteran Mistique's Avatar
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    Wouldnt it be more fun if we didnt just respons to the prompt, but also to the one who had posted before us? A bit like an ongoing dialogue?
    I long for the day when MS stands for mystery solved!

  5. #5
    Quote Originally Posted by Mistique View Post
    Wouldnt it be more fun if we didnt just respons to the prompt, but also to the one who had posted before us? A bit like an ongoing dialogue?
    Mistique, this is a wonderful idea and if anyone wishes to 'piggyback' off of another persons entry, they are free to do so! The most important part of this challenge is just to write, write, write! I really want everyone to feel comfortable to take any of their characters, or new characters or famous characters and create the scenario however they see fit, just as you did. The only constant is to practice writing dialogue and learn from each other. I thank you for being the first participant in the DDoD!

    ~ J. J.
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    "He was a dreamer, a thinker, a speculative philosopher... or, as his wife would have it, an idiot." - Douglas Adams


  6. #6
    WF Veteran Mistique's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by J.J. Maxx View Post
    Mistique, this is a wonderful idea and if anyone wishes to 'piggyback' off of another persons entry, they are free to do so! The most important part of this challenge is just to write, write, write! I really want everyone to feel comfortable to take any of their characters, or new characters or famous characters and create the scenario however they see fit, just as you did. The only constant is to practice writing dialogue and learn from each other. I thank you for being the first participant in the DDoD!

    ~ J. J.
    I love writing dialogue so you are quite welcome. Hopefully there will be many more participants.
    I long for the day when MS stands for mystery solved!

  7. #7
    (language)

    “What the hell are you doing in the middle of the street?” shouted Tristan as she grabbed her intoxicated lovers’ coat lapels. “Get up you old fool before we both get run over.”

    “What’s the use; I lost it all, every penny that we own. Leave me here to die, and find someone of a nobler character to take care of you.” said her drunken paramour.

    Tristan could help but laugh at his flair for the dramatics, even in the worse of circumstances, such as the one they were in now. He was an idiot and a fool but he was her idiot and fool and to live without him was not an option. “You didn't lose it all; as a matter of fact you didn't lose any of it. I set up a dummy account for you to invest in. I had my friend Pete, from work, act as your broker. I just couldn't let you invest on your own, knowing that you gambled our last bit of savings away. So get the fuck up and pull yourself together. Let’s go home.”...
    Nature weeps, the devil sings
    at mans greed and pride
    and what it brings

    Just lots of useless
    little things

  8. #8
    "Mum, why is that man kneeling in the middle of the road?" asked Jack as the car slowed and then stopped.
    "Looks like he's praying."
    "Why is he praying?"
    "I don't know."
    "He's gonna get run down."
    "Yes, and if he doesn't move soon we are going to be late for Church," said Melissa checking her watch.
    "Do you think he's okay?"
    "I don't know."
    "Do you think we should ask if he's okay," Jack persisted as he opened the car door.
    "No!"
    "Mum, he could need help."
    Seeing the door open the man crawled towards the car.
    "Get back in the car now!"
    "But..."
    "No buts."
    Melissa cursed under her breath, "why the hell was the child safety lock off?".
    "Mum, look he's being sick."
    "Yes," cursed Melinda, remembering the recently opened hostel for the homeless which was popular with druggies and alkies.
    "Mum, why is he being sick?"
    "Jack, will you shut that bloody door."
    "I'm telling Dad you swore."
    "Fine, but I need you to shut the door, now!"

    The man stood and then swayed as he tried to steady himself using the car for support. Melissa held her breath as he yanked at the driver's door handle before pressing his contorted face against the window. Saliva and vomit decorated the glass and she recoiled in disgust.

    "Mum..."
    Last edited by PiP; March 27th, 2015 at 10:35 PM.
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  9. #9
    "George! Get you ass up!"

    George, who was sitting in the middle of the street drinking paper-bag wine, looked up.

    "Shakey. Good man. Have a swig."

    Shakey grabbed him by the arm and lifted George up. "Come on," Shakey said. "They're throwing out pizza's down at Joes. You gonna get yourself killed out there."

    Ten minutes later they were eating stale pizza out of a dumpster.

    "What you doing out there in the street any way?" Shakey asked.

    George took a swig of half-empty bottle of wine he found in the dumpster.

    "You know that one armed guy down by the mission?"

    "Yeah."

    "He's dealing for that drug guy over on First."

    "Ain't surprised."

    "He tried to put the bite on me, and I tole him - you know what I tole him?"

    "I'm sure you're fixin' to tell me."

    "I tole him my only drug was paper bag wine, don't want none of that cheap stuff either."

    "You a wine expert, then?"

    "Shut up," George said, smiling. "Well, he beat the crap out of me and the next thing you know I was sittin' in a grease spot, dodging traffic."

    "You need to go to the mission? They got a nurse there."

    "Nah. Gimme another slice of that pizza."
    "Self-righteousness never straddles the political fence."

    Midnightpoet


    "The bible says to love your neighbor. It's obvious that over the centuries it has been interpreted as the opposite."
    (sarcasm alert)

    Midnightpoet


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  10. #10
    Prompt #2
    One of your characters has to explain the concept of death to an immortal alien species.
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    "He was a dreamer, a thinker, a speculative philosopher... or, as his wife would have it, an idiot." - Douglas Adams


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