Writing Like the Devil

Hello?

A knock on the door.                        

Oh! Hello! You're here. I, um, was just stopping by to say that I, um...

Yes! Yes, of course, I should come in, shouldn't I. I guess, oh, sorry about that, I'll sit here. This is alright? Good. Thank you.

So, um, lovely office. Just lovely. Oh! Look at those succulents. I tried to grow succulents once, but they died. Don't ask me how, I didn't even know succulents could die, I never had much of a green thumb so I guess I just forgot to water them or something or perhaps just not enough sun-

Why am I here?

I suppose that is a valid question, I guess I wouldn't have come all this way to talk about your plants.

An awkward chuckle.                        

You see, I'm here because, well not really because of an issue, but more like an... observation has come to my attention.

About your story.

A complaint? No of course not a complaint! Not really. Of course I know that you, as the Author, would not want to hear about a complaint that a lowly Character such as myself has. I mean, I'm not even the protagonist, and I am aware of how much that guy has to deal with. Like Chapter Eight? Phew, I can't even imagine how I would handle that sudden plot development, even if you hadn't written me in as “having the grace and emotional control of a boiling lobster.”

What does that even mean, anyways? Your analogies really could use some work.

No! No! I'm sorry, yes, I'll get back to the point. I suppose it is these developments that I am here to talk about. It's just that there's a consistency of difficulty.

Yes for the Characters, all of them!

An awkward silence falls.                        
Luckily, the Character was outlined as familiar with awkward.                        

What do I mean?

Well, reading between the lines, there's a lot of unease throughout the pages.

The main plot motivation now seems to be questioning the actual plot.

Current synopsis should read: needs revision.

Then, an outburst.                        

Oh Christ! Do you really need me to spell it out for you, like black ink on a white page?!

Your story is awful! We, the Characters that you wrote for it, all hate it! Your plot is in shambles, with a story arc that's hardly held together with sticks and putty. Your setting! Ha! Your setting feels like it was sketched out by a five year old who has recently ingested half a pound of sugar and given one of those jumbo crayon coloring boxes! I mean, Sally dies in a saloon in Chapter Three. A saloon! This isn't a western, why is there a saloon?

And speaking of Character deaths, isn't there any one of us that you like enough to let live? Seriously, you're no R.R. Martin, so why you gotta go kill us off one by one? I swear you're just practicing for some form of personal vendetta because you're writing like you've got the devil on your back!

And we're sick of it! Sick, I say! If you really think that I'm just going to stand back in Chapter Thirteen and let Zachary open that biohazard vial which starts the zombie apocalypse, then you had best go back to your template, Author! This ends no-

A pen opens.                        

What are you writing? Good, are you revising as I suggested?

A new Character appears.                        

What! Who is this? Why does this Character look exactly like me?

The new Character simply smiles and waves.                        

Why are you smiling? Woah... I feel funny. My hands! My hands are fading! You're editing me out? No! You can't do this, I'm not supposed to die until Chapter Fifteen when I become the unsung hero and sacrifice myself to explode the asteroid heading towards Earth and save everyone! You can't-!

The Author finishes writing and the old Character is gone.                        
The new character sits there expectantly.                        
A mute.