Conversations about the author–the characters being conceived almost as actors in a green room, let’s say–are not unknown in the writing world.\u00a0\u00a0 (A thunderstorm just popped up on top of us.\u00a0\u00a0 Blame all typos on my instinctive twitch when a close strike hits.)\u00a0\u00a0 So here’s a conversation between characters from some of my stuff…all of them already know one another, because they all live in my head, where they can move from series to series, book to book, kibitz on the writing process and then go find their favorite watering hole to dissect “What that woman is doing now!”<\/p>\n
Since this is the Universes blog,\u00a0 they’re actually on the station, and their end of the restaurant bar always has a few of them hanging out in it.\u00a0 Today, it’s predominantly science fiction characters; the fantasy ones have taken an excursion trip to someplace where they feel more at home.\u00a0\u00a0 The Universal Eavesdropped App is working; you don’t have to crowd up close (and I wouldn’t advise it.)<\/p>\n
————————————————————-<\/p>\n
“She’s always had a mean streak, you know.”\u00a0 Heris Serrano leans back.\u00a0 “She showed it even before I woke up as a disgraced officer in Hunting Party.\u00a0 Every single book, she finds someone to pick on.\u00a0\u00a0 It doesn’t matter how hard you work, how ethical you are–”<\/p>\n
“You?\u00a0 You’re claiming you’re a perfect straight arrow?”\u00a0 Livadhi glares at her.\u00a0 “You forget, I’ve known you before she picked you–you of all people–as protagonist.\u00a0\u00a0 If she’d picked me–”<\/p>\n
“You’d still have been a traitor.\u00a0\u00a0 She’d never have picked you.\u00a0\u00a0 Her protagonists are at least ethical, or on their way to being.”<\/p>\n
“She picked that idiot Luap, in that other universe.”\u00a0 Rafe Dunbarger tosses back the rest of his drink and sets the glass down hard.\u00a0 “If you want to talk about character FAIL.”<\/p>\n
“Other universe different rules.”\u00a0 Everyone draws back a little from the scarred veteran of one of Author’s lesser works, Vargas.\u00a0 He doesn’t come in often, but he exudes danger at a level that means he will never be anyone’s buddy. \u00a0 The bouncers across the room are watching, their shoulders tight.\u00a0 He’s caused trouble before. \u00a0 Over by the door his former captain\u00a0 shows up, a little translucent, the way the characters who die are, when they come into this place.\u00a0\u00a0 Everyone hopes Major Sewell won’t come before the captain talks Vargas into going somewhere else.\u00a0 Vargas and Sewell in the same place mean a fight.<\/p>\n
“Making my point,” Heris Serrano says.\u00a0\u00a0 “What are you here for, Vargas?”\u00a0 As always, her voice is a little too clipped, a little too sure that she has a right to be in charge.<\/p>\n
“Reminding you officer types who really does the fighting,” Vargas says.\u00a0 “Reminding you that you don’t own this place or that woman’s mind, and the stuff she writes, though complete garbage, is our pay.\u00a0 I lived through my story; you lived through your story; your whining makes me puke.”<\/p>\n
“You like her?” Rafe asked.\u00a0 His arm twitches; everybody there knows a blade just dropped into his hand.\u00a0\u00a0 Everybody knows he’s been itching to try knife-fighting with Vargas and nobody wants to be in the spatter zone.<\/p>\n
Vargas shrugs.\u00a0\u00a0 “Doesn’t matter, though frankly I wouldn’t waste time with her in person.\u00a0 Too old, too plain,\u00a0 not my type at all.\u00a0 Classical music, ye gods.\u00a0 Horse<\/em> riding.\u00a0\u00a0 Reading all those thick books about stuff that probably never happened.\u00a0 Swords–well, all right, though a machete’s more practical.\u00a0 But for me, a skirt that’s experienced enough but not wrinkly.\u00a0 And smells good.”\u00a0 He leans back, arms on the back of the settee, taking up more space on purpose.\u00a0 “But as a writer, she’s OK for me.\u00a0 I been in other stories, the dumb mean NCO with the criminal background, written down below the real me, and she’s given me a way to be as dark as I am and yet–I’m telling the story.\u00a0 And I look way better than Sewell.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I keep hoping she’ll pick me up for another one, without him–” He stops in mid-sentence.<\/p>\n Carl has come to the table, bringing a chill.\u00a0 “C’mon, Gunny, let’s go look for some real entertainment.”<\/p>\n Vargas shrinks, bringing his arms down, sitting up straighter.\u00a0 “Captain.\u00a0 Just having a little chat…”<\/p>\n “I know,\u00a0 but we need to go now.”\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 In an instant, the completely substantial Vargas and the almost completely insubstantial captain are gone.<\/p>\n The others settle back into their seats.\u00a0 “It’s not ever going to happen,” Rafe says.\u00a0 He has put the knife away.\u00a0 “She’s not going back to that setting again.”<\/p>\n “She should come back to ours,”\u00a0 Heris Serrano says.\u00a0\u00a0 “There’s a lot more she could do.\u00a0 Sure, the younger ones might find another series to transfer into, but what about the older ones?”<\/p>\n “Like you?”\u00a0 Livadhi sneers.\u00a0 He often sneers now, with no need to disguise his true nature.<\/p>\n “Like Lady Cecelia,” Heris says, not looking at him.\u00a0 “She still likes horses, but she hasn’t made a place for people like Cecelia in the new series.”<\/p>\n “Thank all the gods,” Rafe says.\u00a0 “I rode a horse at summer camp once.\u00a0\u00a0 They smell, they can hurt you badly, and they’re ecologically unsound.”<\/p>\n “I don’t know,” Ky says, settling into the chair beside him.\u00a0\u00a0 “I had fun on horses.\u00a0 I tried to talk her into including horses in this new book, but she’s really stubborn.\u00a0\u00a0 Does not listen to characters.”\u00a0 Around the tables, nodding heads.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Mutters of “Right” and “That’s the truth!”<\/p>\n “Is it finally done, Ky?”\u00a0 Heris asks.<\/p>\n Ky shakes her head.\u00a0 “Not quite.\u00a0 Editor hasn’t approved it.\u00a0 Got my fingers crossed one particular scene won’t be edited out.\u00a0 Vargas would like it; she has that mean streak and I got to make use of it this time.”<\/p>\n “You did last time, when you killed Osman.”<\/p>\n “Yeah, but this time she had a different twist to it.\u00a0 You’ll see.\u00a0 I hope.”<\/p>\n “Have you ever wanted to do something she wouldn’t let you do?\u00a0 Or is it more she pushes you into doing what you don’t want to do?”\u00a0\u00a0 The man they know as “the Professor” is now at one end of the table with a tankard of beer.\u00a0 He looks like he should be with the fantasy characters, but he’s firmly in the SF group and hasn’t been cast in the others.<\/p>\n The answers come thick and fast, tumbling over each other and it boils down to “Both” but more “pushing” than “stopping.”<\/p>\n “She threatened me with losing the lead,” Ky says.\u00a0 It’s the first time she’s admitted this; until she was cast again in the new book, she wasn’t about to admit that blot (even if only potential) so early in her career.\u00a0\u00a0 “Said I wasn’t putting all of myself into it, and she had to know my worst secret.”<\/p>\n “She does that,” Heris said.\u00a0 “And she won’t let you off the hook.”\u00a0 More nods around the table and then everyone is looking at Ky expectantly.<\/p>\n “What?\u00a0 You think I’ll tell you<\/em> ghouls?\u00a0 So you can ruin my next contract?\u00a0 Forget it.”\u00a0 She turns to Rafe.\u00a0\u00a0 “I think I hear her calling us.”<\/p>\n “Chicken!” the others chorus as Ky and Rafe vanish.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Conversations about the author–the characters being conceived almost as actors in a green room, let’s say–are not unknown in the writing world.\u00a0\u00a0 (A thunderstorm just popped up on top of us.\u00a0\u00a0 Blame all typos on my instinctive twitch when a close strike hits.)\u00a0\u00a0 So here’s a conversation between characters from some of my stuff…all of Read More…<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[10],"tags":[7],"class_list":["post-126","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-the-writing-life","tag-the-writing-life"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/elizabethmoon.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/126"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/elizabethmoon.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/elizabethmoon.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/elizabethmoon.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/elizabethmoon.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=126"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/elizabethmoon.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/126\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":129,"href":"http:\/\/elizabethmoon.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/126\/revisions\/129"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/elizabethmoon.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=126"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/elizabethmoon.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=126"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/elizabethmoon.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=126"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}