March 13, 2015 15 Comments
My topic for the mini-conference is writing compelling stories. Thought I’d take this chance to see if I practice what I plan to preach. So be honest now…would you read on?
WRITERS’ QUARREL © Kristen Heitzmann
Devin Bressard scarcely blinked when Grace Evangeline Pratt stood and emptied her icy sweet tea over his face.
His eyes went flat as hammered steel, his tone even flatter. “Feel better?”
“Waste of a good sweet tea.”
“Sorry for your loss.” He took a napkin from the arm of a server instantly beside him.
“But a fitting end to this fiasco.” She snatched the calfskin clutch that matched her ecru sheath.
“You’ll excuse me if I don’t stand,” in his dampened condition.
“That’s the only thing I’ll excuse.” She raised her chin and stalked past the gapers and cell phone cameras. Oh, get over it.
Throwing a drink in Devin Bressard’s face had not been on her things-to-do-before-thirty list, but she inserted it and dragged a line through. She did not expect him to appreciate her prose, or connect with her flawed yet valiant characters. But to scorn the tragic twist in the plot? To say it gave him the best laugh of his week, the bellyache kind of laugh he hadn’t experienced since elementary school?
Her fans lined up for new releases, anticipating plot twists that plunged her characters into the predicaments he’d found amusing. She gave the maître ‘d a nod, accepted her faux fur shawl from the coat room attendant and slid a twenty into his palm.
He caught her hand. “Can I buy you a drink, Ms. Evangeline?”
“Thank you no. I just disposed of my last one.” The cubes had nestled in Devin’s lap like a toss of the dice.
Best laugh of his week? Her tales had a comedic snap—in the repartee. Her readers laughed out loud and cried in sympathy, triumph, and satisfaction. She knew from the email, blog posts, and tweets how her stories touched people. Why should she care what one snob thought?