Moments

You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave,

find your eternity in each moment.

~Henry David Thoreau

Not only is this a great quote for how to live your life, but for how to write dialogue.

Last night, Oldest Daughter wanted help procrastinating. This basically means she comes in and flops on my king-size bed and insists on talking to me, even though I am clearly just a few deep breaths away from falling asleep. When I point out the obvious to her, she says, "No. Hang out with me." Note this was 11:00 p.m. Did I mention I rise at 5:30 a.m. and SHE is a night owl/musician?

Anyway, TV got flicked on and she breezed through channels, and all I got to see was ONE minute of the Movie Independence Day. But . . . it was a great moment of dialogue, in an otherwise popcorn flick.

In the scene, Jeff Goldblum (and can I tell you, I think he's sexy?) is riding his bike into the office--into the actual office, amongst the cubicles and so on. Riding bike must mean he takes his dedication to the environment seriously, folks. That's "movie speak" for "hippie." His assistant, played by my adored Harvey Fierstein, follows him around with that VOICE of his, telling him how the entire world is about to blow up or whatever. And in the midst of it, Jeff Goldblum notices someone didn't stick a can in the recycling bin. He makes a decent wisecrack, puts it in the bins, and the conversation keeps rolling without missing a beat. And on we go to find out that YES, MY GOD, aliens are about to eat us all alive, and YES, MY GOD, this brainy fellow is the one to save us all. But now, in the span of 30 seconds or so, we know his "type."

It was a moment. A non-writer wouldn't even notice. Hell, had I been SLEEPING and not forced to watch it, I wouldn't have noticed.

But the point is . . . so often when I am critiquing manuscripts (and right now I am doing the "contest judge" thing), I see HUGE back story dumps. If I was going to say what gets axed with my red pen more than anything else? Back story dumps. And writers hate parting with them. "But NOOOOOOOOOOO, I MUST tell the reader about his childhood on the banks of Lake Huron. It's important to the story later, on page 349."

Um. No.

Here's the thing, like our pal Thoreau, like the B-movie popcorn spectacle, look for MOMENTS. Drop the hint, move on. A line of dialogue could tell you more than an entire page of back story if done right.

I've used before as an example that I had to, in each book, tell the reader that Billie Quinn was a genius. It IS important, and while you might discern that after reading 300 pages, I, as author, don't have time for you all to get up to speed. I need you to know that early on. So it's her BEST FRIEND who tells us that. Billie, who narrates, tells the reader that Lewis LeBarge is a genius. She just flat out tells us he is the smartest man she's ever met, than most human beings will ever meet. He's the lab director, so even from a non-partisan viewpoint, he must not be dumb. And then at SOME point early on in the books, he says, in a throwaway line, something like, "Just because you're the ONLY human being who can keep up with my brain doesn't mean . . . " or "Shut up, I know your IQ is that high but it doesn't mean . . ." A moment of dialogue. I don't have to tell you her test scores, the scholarship she got, her academic background. None of it. A line. A moment.

Back to life. Find your eternity in a moment this weekend. I often find them in sticky kisses from Demon Baby. But wherever you find it . . . peace and joy, my friends.

Thoughts? What are your "eternity moments"? And how do you put in single moments in your writing?