When writing goes bad...

“So here we are at the mall. Again. I have been having a lot of feelings lately,” the main character remarked in an artlessly unsubtle way to make her appear sympathetic so the target readers would be compelled to relate to her. She strolled through the thick glass sliding doors of the mall with her friends as they embarked on what seemed to be yet another shopping excursion that was probably slowing down the dramatic tension and should have been omitted or dealt with far more quickly this late on in the book. “Gee, I have feelings too. It’s so tough to be a teenage girl. We have a lot of feelings and the adults in our lives don’t seem to understand us,” her good-looking and athletic friend agreed as good-looking and athletic people have problems too. “But feelings are an essential part of life. It would be worse if we didn’t have feelings at all, even if that did mean we wouldn’t have just spent over three chapters angsting about a boy,” said the quirky third friend who only showed up in scenes to say amusing things or to uncharacteristically speak words of wisdom and comfort. “AAAAARRRGGGHHHHHH,” screamed the author unable to take anymore of her depraved creations’ drivel. “Shut up or I’ll send in a psychopath with a machine gun to spray bullets throughout the whole stupid mall so that you finally stop your ceaseless whinging!” “You can’t do that,” the main character pointed out placing one hand on her hip in a cocky show of defiance. “This is meant to be a light teen romantic comedy aimed at young adults. A random act of violence like that would be completely unbelievable in the sugary world we live in.” “Besides, you still have to get us to the ball,” her best friend piped up. “That’s the climax of the book, right? Without that, there can be no resolution and then ultimately the book would be unsatisfying and without any developed themes.” “But I’m just so sick of your constant blabbing,” the author lamented wondering if this novel was just turning against her as a punishment for reading too many Sweet Valley High books in her youth. “Why don’t you ever just stop talking. I mean I only expected this scene to go for about six hundred words or so but it’s already over that and you haven’t even bought any of your stupid ball dresses yet. Arrgh, and I bet I’m going to have to describe what they look like. That will bloat this chapter out even further!” “Hey, it’s not our fault you can’t control your own dialogue,” the quirky third friend observed. “I mean, we just wanted to go shopping. No one said you had to come along and describe everything we do and say.” “Yeah,” agreed the main character. “I have had a pretty hard week thanks to the constant melodramatic and hackneyed action sequences you’ve put me through. Why can’t I just have some fun with my friends without it having to show some insight into my feelings? Why does everything I do have to lead to further character development? Just because you want to write a crummy coming-of-age story?” “All right, all right,” the author gave in. “You can all totter around being vapid and having fun for a while. I’m off to eat lunch any way. Just don’t leave the mall or realise anything too significant while I’m gone.” “Excellent!” the main character yelled and smiled at her friends. “Now we can swear and talk about non age-appropriate stuff like real teenagers rather than the goody-two-shoes imagining of a dried up English teacher.” Im not even going to bother punctuating my speech anymore and you cant stop me you lame literary hack said her best friend “Yeah, enjoy it while it lasts,” retorted the author. “Tomorrow morning it’s back to correct punctuation, proper speech and no expletives. I’ll have you all speaking concisely and showing insight beyond your years, and I’ll move the plot forward as well, just you wait.” “Who kares wot she finks anywayz?” said the quirky friend deliberately misspelling her speech out of spite. “2day we is goin 2 hav fun.” “OK, that’s it. I’m out of here,” the author sighed realising that for today the repugnant teenagers that had spawned from her lazy imagination had won the battle. “Yay!” chorused the three friends as they pulled out their cell phones and began texting each other so they didn’t have to contribute to any further dialogue.