Writing laterally-Help!

SO last week I hit a writing hurdle. I struggle with dialogue. I can describe a scene in great detail like you would tell an actor or give them direction (almost like a screen play perhaps) but I am not great with creating dialogue. I know how it should go but when I have to actually write it I become to repetitive and lose vocabulary creativeness and feel muted and frustrated. I hate constantly saying he said, she said, I said, They said. etc. I see why there are more modern books that write a whole chapter from the point of view of one character, then the next chapter is from the other/ another character’s POV. It’s easier to be a bit more creative.

So when I hit this wall it made me feel a bit more unexcited about how to make my book flow naturally and I began doing more research which I must do anyway instead of keeping the true creative part and writing chunks of my book. I have begun a lateral process instead of moving forward.

Moreover, I have struggled with telling my reader the story 99% of the time instead of showing them the story. Once again it’s like you want to put people in the scene with you and not assume everyone around you knows what is going on without giving so much detail that you are boring them. You still have to leave ‘white space’ or gaps for them to feel as if there is something left for the imagination to do some work and interpret on their own. You do not want to spoon feed them that YOUR creativity in that line. This should not be hard for me as I have never had an issue with this in my poetry or blogs, but in my book I am struggling because I feel added pressure.

Is this natural? Should I have the same feeling that I have when I write poetry and blogs to accomplish the book? I get that I should write prompts and practice dialogues and scenes and such more often even if not daily but are my feelings valid? I am getting quite anxious which is anything but what I wanted to feel writing this book, it was fun and now it’s kinda not as fun.

Dr. Amnesia- Draft 2

Here is a prompt from Pixie Annie that I am trying…

You are in the waiting room at the doctor’s surgery when the guy sitting next to you, collapses on the floor. Everyone else in the room stands and stares, all the doctors are busy with emergencies…over to you.


I have never seen a more haggard and disheveled group of individuals. The woman across from me was in her pajamas with a bathrobe and a scarf sitting in a wheelchair moaning incomprehensively about rabbits and astronauts. The man to my left smelled strongly of booze and he was drooling on my shoulder covered in dirt and what appeared to be blood from where I couldn’t tell and wait! What now? I cannot believe this, this guy just collapsed beside me!

This couldn’t have been a longer day…I’ve been up since 4am working out in the freaking elements, where high winds were stinging my eyes and whipping the sheets of rain across my face like sand. Unfortunately, my job goes on and I was found pulling weeds, mulching flowerbeds, cutting grass with a small machine since a big riding one would leave ruts and divots with this rain, and building one gaudy overpriced pond in the middle of a four acre estate. I mean seriously who still does that. I was waiting all day for my boss to call us in for the day, but no such luck. Then, because it was just my luck, I land myself in the hospital because I got hit in the head (don’t ask me how because I honestly do not know), which is bleeding pretty significantly as head wounds tend to do, and can’t remember anything more.

Now this guy has collapsed and I feel as if I know something about him that should help but I’m not completely sure. No one is really paying attention so I try a few things. First, I look at him, he looks like any other Asian guy except I can possibly guess his age.

I nudge the alcoholic. “Do you know this man?”

“Yes”, he says, “li, li me lone.”

He chuckles passes something from hand to hand a small machine and goes back to sleep.

That seems a bit weird but some people are like that. I touch his arm and see if he moves, nothing happens. Everyone in the rooms is still staring or otherwise preoccupied with their own lives and therefore too busy to help.  I try again.

“Um excuse me ma’am, but did you see anyone come in with this man?”


“Right!” I said. And she turned dropped something on the floor the skidded toward another patient.

I’m thinking this is a negligence lawsuit waiting to happen.

The man stayed there like that for another 30 minutes and before I knew it he started to come around just after a quiet lady in the corner made a strange noise that sounded like a cross between a sigh and a whistle like she was missing teeth while sighing too hard. Was it that easy to heal him, Was this part of her ailment, why she was here. I didn’t care. I almost want her to whistle closer to my head. Everyone sort of sat back down over time and the doctors still ignored the man. Eventually a nurse came over and checked on him and took him to the back. Then it was finally my turn. Unfortunately, the sigh whistler didn’t heal me I still couldn’t remember a thing! As I was being rushed along I noticed the small item that was skidded across the floor in her hands, I was glad she was going to give it back to the lady, though in her state she probably did not even notice.

Fast forward 3 months later…

I started to get my memory back and sorted through all my things and belongings after getting out of the hospital.

“Sir, the con artist targeted you when you walked into the hospital. He overheard your symptoms at check-in and used that time to pickpocket you and steal your wallet and insert all his information with his team of criminals in the hospital — those staring bystanders who didn’t help” said the FBI and Homeland Security Agents who took turn telling me about what happened. “They are part of a professional crime ring that make fake ids and sell or use them for their own gains and it only takes 15-30 minutes.” They continued.

As if being in a hospital for 3 months not knowing who you are wasn’t bad enough, then you wake up and remember only to be unsure when you want to know return home to find such a mess. Who would want to come home to outrageous bills, maxed out credit cards, and luxury trips that you never took. Explaining this to creditors, banks, insurance, and the security companies is not easy when you first have to convince them that you were also in the hospital and that you were under the wrong name because you had partial retrograde amnesia (hey I could remember how to speak, eat, walk, and so on so I wasn’t a complete case here people).

Though I still had to pay some of the things, some companies allowed me some grace due to proof of the hospital bills and pictures from the hospitals now required when you check-in with the new Epic system. Unfortunately, it still ruined my credit. I wanted vengeance. It came sooner than I thought…

My first day back to work my boss called me to a new home to create a waterfall feature in a pond, with both a zen and rock garden with bamboo accents. This was going to take all day. I was also praying I didn’t en up with another head injury.

At the last minute the owner came out (which usually doesn’t happen since everything is usually done through contracts with the boss).

“Hello, your work has exceeded expectations; however, I have one more requests that I will gladly pay more for, could you please add cherry blossom trees along the walkway?” Asked the owner.

When I saw the man’s face I instantly recognized him as the con artist. He didn’t seem to recognize me, the mark of a constant con artist.

“I will call one of my workers from one of the other locations to bring over the saplings right away,” I calmly stated, keeping my composure.

In actuality, I called homeland security, who involved the FBI and the local police because they had been looking for this individual for quite some time. Indeed justice was served. I felt like Scooby Doo and the gang foiling his plans when he came out in cuffs and then several other members whose faces I’d seen in the hospital that fateful night followed him as well. I knew they’d be going down at least for my case.

When questioned later, I had one question for the con man.

“How did you end up calling the landscaping company I worked for?” I asked.

“I called the landscaping company I found in my wallet which I had kept as a memento from a wallet I had stolen from while back. However, I would have remembered the name if it was you, but it had your boss’s name on it, so I decided to give them a try. If you are going to lead two lives you really have to lock one away while the other exists or the two can get confused as they did here.” Says the con man.

I just reply, “Or it can simply be karma.”