Random Dialogue Because I Can
I justified the bringing along of my massive laptop on vacation by churning out another chapter of God of Wind and Fire. I'm still in, what I refer to as, 'the messy middle'. It is still not particularly pretty, tidy, or even always very much fun. But the only way to get out of the middle is to keep moving forward. So here I am.
Anyway, I've recently come to two conclusions:
1. I really love writing sibling dialogue.
2. I should become a better artist so that I can make my own concept art. Do you know how nearly impossibly it is to find Mongolian-inspired artwork? And then try to narrow that down to Mongolian-inspired artwork that works with the mood and theme of the story...
Visuals are very helpful for me, but in lieu of suitable artwork to get the creative gears in motion, I've been listening to Mongolian music, of which YouTube thankfully has a pretty good supply.
Anyway, here's some of the aforementioned dialogue. Nothing earth-shakingly spectacular, but I felt like sharing it.
They pulled up their horses to wait. Altan sat easily in her saddle, face lifted to the warmth of the sun. Bataar fidgeted, checking and re-checking his weapons and gear.
“You’ll make your horse nervous with your fussing.” Altan observed without opening her eyes.
“Why are you never content to do as you’re told?” Bataar snapped.
“Why must you always take the weight of the world on your shoulders?” Altan retorted.
“You may be all that is left to me in this wide world.” Bataar felt a hard lump rising in his throat as he finally gave voice to the dread words. “Mother, Gerel, who knows what has befallen them? If you should be lost to me, I...I don’t know what I should do.” The lump was choking his wind, and he broke off to fight it down.
Altan turned to look at him, her face gone hollow. “And I do not know what I should do if I could not stand beside you. All those years, and only us, together, always. What is left for me if you are lost?” She flung up her head. “But together? What can we not do? We will yet set everything to rights.”
Bataar appreciated her efforts to hearten him. “Aye, well, who can tell the future?” He attempted cheeriness. “It may all come out right, as you say.”
“And whatever it is, we’ll face it together, you and I.” Altan replied.
Bataar turned away on a pretense of checking the soundness of his girth strap. He did not want her to sense the deep, certain dread that was taking hold of him. She would need all of her courage for what lay ahead.