WE ARE LIARS
By: Angelica Hart and Zi
A: Sometimes, in our work, we lie. (The words wag as might a finger at a post piddling puppy)
Z: Well, actually not sometimes, but mostly. That is what fiction is all about, speculating on the possibilities whether they are real or not. (He dips a chocolate bar into his coffee and stirs, pulls it out to discover most of the chocolate has vanished) A: (Looks enviously at the remaining chocolate) The characters are made up, the plots are straight from Fibbersville, deLiarware, USA, situations blossom like real looking silk flowers shoved into the ground and fertilized with Miracle Gro.
Z: You have silk flowers in the ground at your home. (Pauses) Did you put Miracle Gro on them?
A: I don't remember. (Giving the hairy eyeball, she quells his query, and then returns to her point) Stories are wickedly wonderful fabrications brought to you by liars.
Z: (Placating, he hands her the remaining candy bar though considers taking a bite first) Piece of candy... go for a...bribe? (This was from Chester the Molester's online class of rated G lechery)
A: (Snatches the bar, fearing he'll change his mind, and just as a sibling of nine might do, she quickly licks it, claiming it as hers and repeats) Stories are wickedly wonderful fabrications brought to you by liars... liars.
Z: And whose pants are on fire? (Eyebrow bouncing ensues, holding up a glass of water feigning extinguishment of her potentially superheated Chinos)
A: Do that at risk of retaliation! (Hands on hips, bringing cessation to a potential altercation) Liars. (Pause) Liars. (Pause) Embellishment, invention, innovation, (Pause) hyperbole, and exaggeration are tools used in this deceitful world of storytelling.
Z: (Prudence is displayed as Zi considers mentioning something about her hips but chooses to take the road less traveled... Thank you, Frost) That's why we adore writing fiction, the bliss of creating what we want from whatever we want.
A: Such freedom!
Z: Does that make us Freedom Fighters? (He grabs a 1943 Marine's dress cap, places it on his head and salutes himself)
A: However, a tall tale often is a takeoff from a kernel of truth.
Z: Waxing are we?
A: That's personal, isn't it?
Z: Ouch, you went there!
A: (Recognizing she misconstrued the usage of waxing, she altered the direction of the discourse) We can tell a variety of lies, stretch them out beyond Pluto the planet (note the lie) and beyond.
Z: (Standing at attention, leather riding crop tucked in one armpit, a metaphorical flag waving behind him, he addresses the troops: Angelica, a yellow lab Mo, a corgi Jamie, and a statue of Mike Schmidt) What we can't do is deny the emotional behavior of our characters. (Clears his throat, deepens his voice) There are truths that are part of our humanity, and if we stray from those truths without explanation, our lies become obvious rather than transparent. Have I made myself clear?
A: Waxing are we? (Sniggers)
Z: (His face becomes that of a man watching his daughter back his new car into his second car) I will never do that again!
A: You didn't like that period of trying to be a metrosexual, did you? (She had a face that was that of the dog who chased the cat who ate the canary who stole the worm through the house that Jack built)
Z: If we were reporters, we would be held accountable to the facts, just the facts ma'am. But because we write fiction, we are held accountable to the continuity of the begetments of our imagination.
A: Beget-what-ments? You got mints? Where? Give! (She pulls his drawers open... desk drawers!)
Z: Every day we fight to write good lies, believable lies and must remember the complexity of our creations.
A: Remember! (She drifts as might the fog across the pond on an autumn morn, and then unloads her musing) You said it, my memory just isn't what it used to be. But when I complained to the doctor about not being able to remember where I put the car, where I'm going, and what I was supposed to do when I got there, he wasn't much help. I asked him, what could I do? And he responded. "Pay me in advance."
Z: (Grins) Pinocchio moment. (He getting her fib)
A: Astute my fine penning friend.
Z: So, you are proclaiming to the world we are liars.
A: Yes.
Z: Why?
A: I'm working on my Master's of Ceremony's bit for my church's readers group.
Z: Annnnd it's about liars?
A: Yes, and do you know what happens to liars when they die?
Z: That's an oldie. Yup, they lie still.
A: Ha... ha... Do you think they'll laugh?
Z: Hey, that was a good one. (Zi senses he must be supportive and gives that atta girl look)
A: A good one is, a lie is an abomination unto the Lord and an ever present help in times of trouble. (She used her best Jerry Seinfeld droll delivery)
Z: And what's that got to do with the price of castor oil in the Himalayas? (Realizing his retort was inane, he offered) Will your women get that?
A: I thought it was apt. (She considers... it apparent as her eyebrows knit into one uni-brow) I'm trying to weave for them our use of lies in our writing, based upon a nice foundation of truth, lying brings fiction to life. You think they'll get it?
Z: Sure. (Feigning support)
A: (Reading from her notes) Did I tell you that my cousin got in trouble for calling someone a liar?
Z: No, you didn't. (He looks to see how many notes were on the paper to ascertain the extent of this sojourn)
A: (Selling it) Oh yeah, he was asked by his supervisor if he called his foreman a liar, and he said, "You bet I did." Then he was asked if he called his foreman stupid. My cousin replied, "Oh yeah, right to his face." Finally the supervisor asked if he called him an opinionated, egomaniac, gator-faced bleep-bleeper.
Z: (Zi took a moment to sip his freshly warmed coffee) Well, did he?
A: No, but he asked that it be written down so he could remember it.
Z: Heard it. The fellow that told it, did it better.
A: Ouch! (Does the irritated lady hair flip [which is kinda difficult since she has short hair] and ignores him.) Despite being liars, we have to be logical about it.
Z: (Lips twitch as he fights a laugh) Oaky dokey.
A: (Eyes narrow) Are you saying I am not logical?
Z: I have said nuthin', nuthin. (He imitates the German accent of Sergeant Shultz from an old TV sitcom)
A: As I was saying, even when writing fantasy or science fiction there are truths one must follow. You can't have a water giant living on a planet of fire.
Z: Yes, you can! (He places his hands on his hips, imitating Angelica's previous stance and destroys every advantage his previous act of prudence had given him)
A: (Ignoring him) If you have characters traveling through space via a spaceship you have to figure out the what and how as close to something that is believable as possible.
Z: And when being told the check is in the mail, one must chuckle.
A: Huh?
Z: Just thinking about how there are so many cliché lies.
A: Yes... like... of course I love you.
Z: (He looks back, befuddled) Huh?
A: Not you... the universal you. (Her words slap the befuddlement to the curb)
Z: Or... (Looks pointedly at Angelica) You'll get this one, I'll pay next time.
A: Are you implying I'm cheap?
Z: It's not the money, it's the principle of the thing. (He wanted to quote Voltaire about fighting for her right to be wrong, but he enjoyed it when she was)
A: But we can still be good friends? (She struggles to keep both corners of her mouth from rising in that shat-eating grin she was feeling)
Z: (Nods) Ah, you followed that lying thread nicely. (His kudos drizzled on as fine maple syrup on the top of a stack of hotcakes... he began to wonder what he had for breakfast)
A: Thank you, it is what I do. (She places one hand behind her head and flips an ample hip as might Mae West) One of my fav lies is, don't worry, I can go another 20 miles when the gauge is on "empty."
Z: I know. I had to walk.
A: I said I would but it was the shoes.
Z: Helen Rowland said, "An art in a lover." She was speaking of lying.
A: Yeah... the best lovers do lie... or at least maybe I believed them... all of them.
Z: (He looked at her with the oh-what-a-fool-you-must-have-been glare) Lord Chesterfield when talking about lies said they are, "The refuse of fools and cowards." Here's one for you, don't worry, he's never bitten anyone. (He holds up the lips, showing the mini teeth of the Bichon and growls)
A: The best lie ever is, I'll call you later.
Z: Even better, I've never done anything like this before. (Fencing... the one's upsmanship of thrust and parry is a fun sport)
A: The all time, groaner of a lie... (Drums the desk with pencils channeling Buddy Rich... her solo is far too long) I'm from your government, and I am here to help you.
Z: (Using his hands as the scales of justice, he says) Lie... not to lie... lie... not to lie. A good thing or not?
A: Only in fiction.
Z: And also okay when you tell your eighty-five-year-old Aunt Sally that her blue hair looks wonderful.
A: It does look wonderful on her. (Chin lifts with indignation) Aunt Sally reads our column.
Z: Sorry, Aunt Sally.
A: And that is no lie.
We have been blessed by many things in our lives, and one of them is sharing our time, our thoughts, and an exchange of comments with all of you. It has been a gift, which is apt for a holiday season. We wish everyone a peaceful and Happy Christmas as well as all the wonder, fantasy, dreams fulfilled, and prosperous in every way New Year!
We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who emails us at angelicahartandzi@yahoo.com and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.
Angelica Hart and Zi
Killer Dolls
Snake Dance ~ July 2010
Champagne Books
angelicahartandzi.com
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