Writing Challenge: Dialogue Conflict / Fight Scene

Photo by Joe Mania on Unsplash

Writing Prompt: Write a short fight scene between two characters, where neither of them say anything negative to each other.

“You’re faster now.” The sweat leaked from his brow as he circled her in the sand. His blade hung low, nearly drawing a line in the ground as he held it behind him, aggression abandoned.

“You’ve gotten stronger,” she replied, but there was a hint of regret within the playful banter. “You were always stronger than me. I’m happy to see that I’ve yet to surpass you.”

“Perhaps we could step back – return to our training days.” It was a long shot, and he knew it. He could see it in her eyes. The determination. The harsh pursuit of the path she’d chosen – the path he should have chose.

“It’s not too late,” she whispered, barely audible over the whisper of winds against the sand. “You would not be an man without loyalty if you turned against a corrupt king.”

Her blade was still gleaming with the blood of his men, crimson dripping into the white sand. Yet there was hope in her eyes – the same hope he’d seen in her face when he took her in as a young girl.

“You have become everything I hoped you would be,” he said, his voice wavering as the words caught in his throat. “Do not hold back, child. I will give you my best, now.”

Understanding shone in her eyes, and her lips pressed tightly together, her face paling. Then, she lifted her blade and shifted her feet, ready.

Their blades came together swiftly, a dancing clash of metal that sang through the day. She was the perfect mirror of him – a student that studied her master to religious extent. The footwork; the angle of his blade. Nothing was foreign to her. So when she made a lethal swipe for his midsection, half a pace faster than what was known, she knew he would fall. She heard the impact as he fell to his knees, and she dared not look over her shoulder.

“Rest peacefully, father,” she said, eyes fixed on the castle before her. “I will right the wrongs of this kingdom in your name.”

There was a soft moaning sound and a thud as he fell into the sand. “You have made me proud, fierce child,” he said, the words strained with effort. “He keeps a dagger on his hip.”

She listened to his last sigh, the way his breath caught and shuddered. There was silence, and she bowed her head, processing the loss. Then, she lifted her attention to the gates ahead, filled with new purpose and loathing.

The king would pay for this one. Yes, the king would pay, indeed.

Reflection

I think my writing, in general, is less dialogue-heavy than this scene, but I might be obsessed. Is it okay to love your own writing?

Absolutely.

If you don’t love it, how can you expect anyone else to?

Final Thoughts

Originally, I did not think my response would include so much dialogue. I read once, that if your scene can happen without dialogue, let it, and I’ve tried to follow this rule. Whatever was coming to my mind at this point definitely did not follow this rule, and I think that’s okay. Sometimes, you just have to follow your heart… or your mind… or instinct.

What did you come up with? Give the prompt a go! It’s a fun challenge!

“Shreds of Sanity” & Author Tip

It clung to her with a vengeance like a vile creature from hell. Her ears rang with the shrieking, a maddened sound that grew with fury. Clutching her head, she could feel it digging into her brain, little more than a leech determined to prey upon her last shreds of sanity.

So I might have been feeling a little dramatic at two o’clock in the morning.

I’d spent a couple hours working on my WIP (3rd book of my romance series), and I somehow ended up with less words than I started with at the beginning of the night. (Don’t edit until your first draft is done!) I moved on to creating some Instagram posts, and then I wrote this lovely little bit.

Not sure whether I will fit it into a whole story. I definitely have several books outlined that a struggle against insanity would fit into, especially with the implied external factor of a creature or paranormal demon of sorts. Wanted to share it for now, but every time I write something short and sweet (or not so sweet, in this case), I always end up with a whole new story! Maybe I’ll have yet another side project to work on to keep me balanced so my romance projects don’t become redundant.

Author Tip

Read and write outside your genre. My published series (still more to come) is an erotic romance, but most of my projects are high fantasy or paranormal/supernatural stories that alternate between fantasy worlds or an urban world such as ours. I’ve noticed that when I allow myself to spend time writing in more than one genre during the week, my vocabulary is fresher, my sentence structure is more diverse, and I’m more creative in general. Reading also enhances these qualities. I was actually reading Wuthering Heights when I wrote most of my first published book, and if you’ve read it, you’ll know it’s about the farthest thing in the world from that classic.

So if you’re struggling with writers block, feeling redundant, or just want to spruce up your writing in general, take time to write in a different style and read in a different genre.

Thanks for reading!

I appreciate your time! Feel free to browse around and check out the books I have currently available!

Happy writing to you all, and have a wonderful Tuesday (or whenever you see this)!

A Consuming Passion

* Photo by Roksolana Zasiadko on Unsplash.*

His love was all-consuming, a deep abyss that pulled her towards a pinprick of passion that she had held subdued for all these years. And as he tasted her skin, the scent of her own desire driving him senselessly onward, pounding and unrelenting, she felt a possession of herself, an understanding of her most untrodden fears and unspoken wishes. She had found herself in him, and only he alone could understand what he’d given her.

Written by Vicki Sweets.

A Curiously Rare Phenomenon, Love Is

Photo by Rodion Kutsaev on Unsplash.

She lounged heavily against the wicker, fine legs draped lazily across one another, a glass of ice precariously forgotten in one hand while her opposite elbow rested artfully on the arm of her chair. Ash fell to the coppery stones beneath her as she flicked the carefully rolled paper between her fingers, smoke lingering like a forgotten lover near her ear as she blew out the side of her mouth. And when she placed golden eyes on him from across the garden, he felt the world spin backwards, his balance nearly forsaking him, and everything was forever changed.

Written by Vicki Sweets. Follow for more writing samples, excerpts, and book release updates.

Walking In A Dream

Photo by Krystian Piątek on Unsplash*

It began in a forest this time – my dream. As I lifted bloodless fingers before me, I knew I had slipped into a lucid state. Droplets lingered in the air like rain that couldn’t fall, and as I stepped through the flooded forest, florescent water glowed around my ankles. Like jellyfish, I thought – and then I plunged deep beneath the surface like the forest hadn’t existed at all.