“When girls dress like sluts, do you know what I think?”
“You probably like it,” Annie said.
“Actually, no. I think girls who wear really tight clothes are desperate and insecure. They complain about guys looking at their butts and boobs but what else are we supposed to do when they’re advertising their stash.”
“You’re sick.”
“No, I’m just telling you like it is. Here’s the thing, Annie. Guys don’t like their girlfriends to wear clothing so tight it looks like they’re wrapped in Saran Wrap. And we, or maybe it’s just me, think that girls are much prettier without all that makeup. Why do they put all that crap on their face anyway?”
Have a snippet of dialogue from a WIP to share? Please do in comments.
I am having sooooo much fun with this WIP.
ReplyDelete“Oh. My. Gawd,” Petra said as she ran up to Annie’s locker. “Did you hear the latest?”
“What now?”
“Well, I overheard Addison Barley tell Samantha Rice – both A-listers – that Becca Martin is off the A-list because she asked Jen Sprenkle – Queen of the A-listers – if she shopped at Goodwill because she looked like a poster child for the store.”
Annie laughed.
“Yeah, I know. It’s way funny. But there’s more. Becca apparently followed that up by asking Jen if her parents were related, which really pissed Jen off. Jen called Becca a bitch and Becca called Jen a whore. They started to physically fight before the entire thing was broken up by Mr. Sutton, who you know doesn’t take crap from anyone. So now they both have detention. Neither can cheer and The Sisters are fighting among themselves.”
“And how did I miss all this,” Annie said, smiling.
“Where were you anyway? Usually you’re around when all the really good stuff happens and I’m the one to miss out.”
I'm so glad I found your blog. And I'm already intrigued by your snippet.
ReplyDeleteJean
http://write2ignite.wordpress.com
Thanks Jean. I will check out your blog, too. And, yes, Annie and David and Petra are really fun characters to hang out with.
ReplyDeleteBuffy,
ReplyDeleteFun segment! Is it YA?
Here's a little bit of something I'm working on:
One by one, fifty-six children climbed out of the coal-black train that rolled into Leek. Every family was expected to do their part for the war effort. Daddy fought in France. Grandfather was in the Home Guard protecting the beaches along the English Channel. Grandmother worked in the Stannards Mill on Buxton Road sewing parachutes for the soldiers. Mummy and I wanted to do our part too. Mummy said we could take in one evacuee.
The children queued up and followed their teachers down the narrow cobblestone road. I could tell they were Londoners. They all were sickly and pale. I wondered how long it had been since they played outside.
Hey Sharon, yes, the segments are from a YA WIP. Your story sounds really interesting. Good luck with it:)
ReplyDeleteGreat post! Here's a snippet of Dialogue from my YA WIP Platinum Diaries:
ReplyDeleteEveryone stared as Chaz and I entered Mr. Comegys’s honors English Lit. I jerked a thumb back at Chaz, who had strolled casually behind me all the way there, and said, “New guy.” Then I took my seat in the middle of the room.
“You’re such a wonderful welcome committee, Miss Nieves.” Mr. Comegys turned to Chaz. “Introduce yourself.”
Chaz had both hands in his pockets, and I realized I was probably the only who knew he had on those ridiculous gloves. “I’m Chaz Bishop,” he said as if there was no need to say more. Smug jerk.
“Tell us something about you, Mr. Bishop.”
He sighed slightly, and then said, “I’m sixteen, my favorite color is mother-of-pearl and I’m a Scorpio on the cusp so sometimes I feel more like a Sagittarius.”
My lips twitched, but I refused to laugh at him even though his answer got chuckles from the class. The loudest giggles came from Hillary Teagarden.
“Have a seat,” Mr. Comegys said. “Good to know we’ve got another smartass in the class. I was afraid we were going to run out.”
Karen, loved the last two sentences. Made me smile.
ReplyDeleteHere's mine (YA):
ReplyDeleteJust to aggravate her, Jude said innocently, “Whatever you’re cooking smells really good, Auntie Al.”
Almira’s chin popped up a little, the backup chins dancing under her jaw at the effort. “Hogmaw.”
“No, seriously,” Jude said. “It’s … interesting.”
Almira turned back to face Jude, her eyes all but sucked into her round sweaty face. “It’s hogmaw.” She lifted up something brown, greasy and translucent. There was an opening on one end that she spread apart with her fingers. With her other hand, she shoved fistfuls of what Jude guessed was sausage inside. “Stuffed pig stomach.”
“Can’t wait,” Jude murmured. Three days into her stay at Almira’s and the old lady still hadn’t caught on that Jude was a vegetarian.