Fay - I have recently come into the Firefly love and that was just....wow.

More Vamp!Munchkin

“So, what’s with the tissues, huh?” She gives me her “Don’t kid a kidder look.” Which is fearsome even when accompanied by suspicious facial pinkness, smeared make-up, and the Amazing Killer Breasts.
“As often as I make women cry? You’re kidding, right?” I shrug, putting on a show of how OK everything is. I came this close to being the grieving one. Twice. One miracle belongs to the OR at Hopkins. But I’ll take the credit for this one.

“If anyone asks, I’m denying it..” she says, grimly applying more lipstick. It’s still sexy, even if she does it like she’s adjusting the Kevlar(which, incidentally, was absolute shit in her particular case, but thinking about that pisses me off all over again, so I won’t. My anger’s a lot more dangerous now.)

“Tell me something I don’t know.” There’s a little silence that gets weird. Kay looks at me like she’s broken again. I have to say something. “It’s not so bad, Kay.”

“What? This party? Yes, it is, I was offered $1000 to pelt a demon with grasshoppers. And I thought about taking it.”

“Not that...although that makes me think you may be in the wrong business. I mean undeath...I wasn’t exactly the best at being human.” “Now, Munchkin, I know it’s hard, but quit talking crazy, huh? You are a fine human, and I work for God and have no business pelting anything with bugs.”

Just because a heart doesn’t beat doesn’t mean it can’t break. “Kay, how do you do it? Keep believing that humanity works...that it sets the highest standard, with all we’ve seen. All I’ve done.”She would never have accepted Lilah’s dirty money, not even for a minute.

“That’s where we’re different Munchkin...you analyze everything. I just put one foot in front of the other, right? Take it one step at a time.”

“And where should I be taking these steps, huh?”

“I asked you not to make fun of me for that. Babe. “

“I’m evil...I can do what I want now. Inhuman undead bloodsucker with no rules or scruples, right here.”

“That’s too bad, cause I was gonna help you find what you’re looking for, but maybe I won’t...I don’t mess with the forces of evil. Not for free, anyway.”

“Now, who’s evil?” I ask.

“Me? It comes with the suit.” And she smirks, like a deviant. Like me.

“Kay, please, you have to tell me. I beg of you, Mistress Katrina. Enlighten me.”

“A gal could get used to so many guys kissing her ass, I gotta tell you...maybe I’ll keep you on a string for a bit? A little suspense, huh?”

“Honest to God, Kay, you’re testing me here...”

The demon growled inside me, filling me with a horror I hadn’t known since I saw my first murdered corpse...a daughter killed by her father cause she stayed out late. I still remember how drunk I got that night. If I hurt Kay there’s not enough alcohol in the world.

“Bear in mind, this advice comes from Ed Danvers. “ She says, holding up her finger, mom-style.

“That little Establishment geek?” I sneer out of habit. But if there is a God, I want Him to bless Ed Danvers because thinking of him in all of his button-down glory makes the monster in me quiet. Probably does the same for Kay.

“In one of his cases, Ed was able to catch the guy because the guy was an artist and sent himself ideas...there was a timestamp on them...blew his alibi.”

“Thank you for putting Ed Danvers and blow in the same sentence....I won’t sleep all day.”

“Just grow up and go to the mailroom.” God, she is so brilliant. And I never told her, cause I’m a cowardly ass. I’m fucking immortal and still a cowardly ass...God must be a woman and she’s laughing her ass off.
Oh, crap, Halfrek. Sure enough, the demon is bearing down on us like a heat-seeking missile.

“One thing,” I say. “Kiss me. Just to hide my face.”

”Munchkin,” she says. “I don’t think...”
And I give her the Cadillac of first dirty kisses...I’ve had some practice. “Mmm,” she says...but it may be oxygen deprivation. Out of the corner of my eye(which you understand, I’ve not been able to use since I’m ten)

I can see that the demon has moved off. I start off toward the mailroom. “Sorry, babe. Duty calls.”

One thing about Kay. Her world could be falling down and she always has a sense of humor. “Great.” She says. “Typical male. You get what you need and you’re done...there are names for guys like you, Munchkin.”

The demon growled inside me, filling me with a horror I hadn’t known since I saw my first murdered corpse...a daughter killed by her father cause she stayed out late. I still remember how drunk I got that night. If I hurt Kay there’s not enough alcohol in the world.

Oh, wow.

Just - yeah.

Humina humina humina ... ladies and gentlemen, the winner and still champeen: Erika, Queen of Dialogue!

Aw, shucks...and unlike Joss, that doesn't make me want to write silent. As long as I'm not coming off like some one-liner machine, that is. Honestly, I thought I was off, a little.(Uh, in a different way than usual, yes?)

See, if it was nothing but dialogue, it wouldn't hold me at all. Pure conversation doesn't do it for me.

But you aren't writing pure dialogue. It's dialogue that triggers inner dialogue and self-appraisement. That's what makes it punch so hard, so often.

Wow, I am so honored. But I feel that I know them, as Giardello says, I know what toothpaste they use. If I can ever get to that with my characters, without them being Thinly!Disguised Me, look out...

I think too many writers fall into the Nick-and-Nora thing: dialogue must sparkle, be witty, amuse.

Well, yes. But it also has to illuminate the character and lead to action/reaction/introspection. Because otherwise? It's like overhearing someone else's cellphone conversation.

I do, too, sometimes, I think. Crave the sparkle. The perfect word...it's been hard not creating whole scenes for the purpose of one line, but I hope I've learned otherwise. Fontana is a woman-hating sonofabitch, but he is a dialogue-writing woman-hating SOB...the toughest thing to learn about Homicide dialogue? How to say something without saying *everything* Those writers are brilliant at this(and also playing with words, I watched one last night that had a funny bit about the word "expunged", or that "davino" thing from season 1) I've really had to work at that, because left to my own devices? Two modes. Brush you off with a quip, a la Munchkin. Or spill my guts, like Timmy. People that don't exactly do either are harder for me to write.

People that don't exactly do either are harder for me to write.

But none of the people just talk to each other. The action that makes them credible and recognisable isn't limited to what they say. There are times when less dialogue is more, because the action, the look on a character's face, the way s/he moves or touches another character, what presses the buttons, all that? Tells you more about the character than twenty lines of dialogue.