Characters come to me almost daily. Sometimes they sneak up on me at the grocery store, tap on my shoulder, say a shy hello. Other times they bust down the front door and punch me in the face.
I write these characters immediately as I stumble over them. Just a quick scene, short paragraph, sometimes a poem. Getting them on the page, in some form, is important. They may not end up in any finished project, but at least they've had their day in the sun and I have them here for future reference.
So today, I'll show you these two...
***
Vivian:
She was one of those Coco Chanel ladies...you know the type..."You can never be too rich or too thin". She was 'old' money. Straight tweed skirts with Ferragamo flats, cashmere twinset and a Hermes scarf tied snug against her neck. Her hair was done in an elegant bob that she kept tucked neatly behind her pearl studded ears. She owned a brownstone on Chestnut Street, and a cottage on Martha's Vineyard with weathered cedar shingles and a crushed shell driveway.
She preferred the Vineyard. She was alone there usually, her friends having deserted her after the divorce. There was no one left to judge her, so she'd sit out on her lawn watching the waves come in to shore and she'd drink beer straight from the bottle and then belch really loud.
***
This one came in a poem:
No Halo
You know her.
Or, at least, her type.
The one whose smiles
Hide daggers.
Whose bitterness lingers
At the bottom of the glass.
That last sip of cheap-ass wine.
She pretends to be
The blue eyed angel
Serene and benevolent
But there's no halo
No wings.
Unless bitches fly.
The last time I checked, they don't.
Most people see the best
But I cannot.
My intuition, this x-ray vision
Lays her truth open to the sun
Her righteous superiority exposed.
She smiles sweet evil and it's
The last lie she tells.
Thanks for reading!
