Write a dialogue between two people who know each other, on opposite sides of an issue or problem. From What If? Writing Exercises for Fiction Writers by Anne Bernays and Pamela Painter, 1990, pp. 82-83.
“I don’t see why we need to carry backpacks, Aubrey. We can have porters carry our bags wherever we go, and I personally don’t want to spend our precious few weeks of vacation laden like a pack animal under 38 degree heat.”
Shep set his shiny Michelin’s Green Guide to Paris down on the kitchen table and squared his shoulders as he faced her. “I make good money, dammit, and I don’t understand why you want to travel like vagabonds. And India? Why in heaven’s name would you want to go to India?”
Aubrey shook her head and clucked her teeth. “Baby, don’t be so rigid. It’s why your face is so tight all the time.” She set her bookmarked copy of Lonely Planet India on the edge of the sofa and perched herself on the corner. A few pages came loose from the book and fluttered down towards her feet.
“We’ve done it your way. I’m sick of pampered holidays. I’m tired of resorts and all-inclusive getaways. Let’s explore new places and new cultures. All we ever do is move from private car to fancy hotel to 5-star restaurant to private car to fancy hotel. What about the people? I want to meet people, Shep. Real people who aren’t five-star travelers. Is that too much to ask?”
Shep threw his hands in the air. “People? What about the Deckers? What about the Harrods? Those are people. You were happy enough to meet them last winter in Barbados.”
“Oh, sure, Marina Decker, the Botox Queen? And Jennifer Harrod, who sent her food back because the color looked off? Quite right, Shep, I was happy to meet them, because your attention was wholly consumed by the rum, if I recall. Do you remember Ed Decker’s term for the locals?”
“Yes, yes, I remember that he may have made some off-color remarks, though they were rather clever.”
“Clever, Shep? Really? He was a buffoon, albeit one with perfect hair. No wonder his wife shoots herself up with Botox – trying to mask how unhappy she is.” Aubrey folded her hands and bounced one sandaled foot up and down.
“The real world, Shep. I want to see the real world for a change. India is full of life – 1.3 billion people, Shep! Let’s walk among them, feel the heat, feel the rush of adrenaline as we race to catch a bus. Or no, a rickshaw!” She beamed.
“Or capture dysentery, or cholera, or god forbid dengue fever.” Shep cut her off with a quick hand motion. “Do you realize what you’re proposing? You’d be throwing yourself to the wolves, my dear. We might as well paste signs on our back saying ‘I Have Money – Ask Me for Ransom.’ You’re out of your league here, my sweetness. You’ve never gone a day without eyeliner or mascara. And now you’re going to hand wash your clothes after carrying them around in a sack on your back?”
“I’ll get my lashes lifted and tinted, Mr. Wiseguy, so I won’t need the makeup. And we can hire a local to wash our clothes. I’m tired of Paris and Geneva. The Alps are boring. India’s an adventure – street food, the Taj Mahal, elephants… Oh, Shep, it will be new and exciting!”
Shep’s mouth dropped open, speechless, and he stared at her as if for the first time. He twice started to speak and stopped. Then his eyes widened, he lifted his chin and straightened his back. He picked up his Michelin guide and headed to his study. “Honey, dear, please start taking your meds again.”
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