Ivy Bateman ? A Night of Writing Improv Style

A Night of Writing Improv Style

By Ivy Bateman

I have tendonitis. Whoop dee-do right? I?m sure a lot of writers do, but we soldier on because not even swollen andbordering on immobile hands will stop us from writing our prose. However, in the summer, when I wrote Baby, You?re Cold, my tendonitis was particularly bad. As well as a freelance writer, at the time, I was also a copywriter for a website company and between the fun writing and work writing I spent most of my waking hours workingaway atthe computer. In order to give my hands a break, when I was copywriting, I often used a program called ?Dragon Naturally Speaking?. It?s a voice recognition program and is wonderful. I just speak into a mic on a head set and Bob?s your Uncle, it puts my words on the screen.

Now, no matter how handy it was for work related writing, I was always hesitant to use this program for my book writing. What I write often tends to be fairly graphic sexually and I sometimes cringe at the content as I type it. When I tried to image saying these explicit words out loud?well my office walls will tell you that even alone, my face can turn various shades of red in a fit of embarrassment.

However, deadlines push you do things you didn?t know you were capable of! It was a Friday night, my book was due the next day around noon, I had 6OOO words to go and my hands were killing me. As a side note, I have a daughter and I sometimes find it awkward to write erotica while she?s at home. On the night in question my daughter had a friend over: double awkward.

So, to get back to it, my hands were killing me, the deadline was looming and I knew that I didn?t have the strength in my hands to type the last 6K. With a grimace and a heavy sigh, I got to work finishing my book using the Dragon Program.

Let?s just say it?s a good thing the microphone on the headset is very sensitive! While the girls played loudly down the hall, I whispered my saucy, storytelling nothings to my dear Dragon. It was an intense night because of the situation I was in and because I didn?t know whether I could write a good enough story if it was going from my head to my mouth to the screen. When I first started writing more seriously, I had to go from mybrain to a pen to paperto typing into the computer. It took me a while to hone creative paths that ran from my brain to my hands to the keyboard and into the computer. That accomplishment was freeing; it cut a step, but this was a miracle! To go from my brain to voice to computer was euphoric! I took acting in school and am a stickler for a script.Improv was a nightmare for me. My mind would go blank! I would just stand on the stage and stare at the other actors, waiting for inspiration to whack me on the side of the head. After I slipped on the head set and got ready to dictate my book, at first, speaking my book into the computer felt like improv only with writing on the side. But, eventually I got into the same groove I usually get into while typing a story. I felt as though the story already existed and I was just reciting the actions being played out in my head.

Now, when I write, I listen to my hands first before I put the ideas on the screen. If they say ?We?re good!? it?s a typing day. If they say ?Ow! For the love of?? then I fire up the Dragon and speak my deepest, spiciest thoughts into its waiting ears.

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Ivy Bateman on Breathless Press

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Baby, You?re Cold Inside Book Trailer

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ivybmisbehavin@gmail.com

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Blurb for Baby, You?re Cold Inside, By Ivy Bateman

Lily Sinclair isn?t in the Christmas spirit.

Successful, sexy and headstrong; being nice is too overrated when being naughty is so much more fun. However, there are those who believe that her cool interior stands in her way of true happiness. On the night when something a little bit colder than Lily takes her on a journey to her past, she goes along for the ride, but?

Will her guide show her just what it will take to melt her icy soul?

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Excerpt from Baby, You?re Cold InsideBy Ivy Bateman

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?Why?d you bring me here?? I gesture to the circle of trees.

?So you assume that I arranged this??

?Well, I don?t see any other magic, frost people around,? I say, trying to keep my sarcastic tone in check.

?Well, yes?it was me, but why aren?t you more shocked? A lot of people freak out when this kind of thing happens to them! I thought for sure that even you would be impressed to be taken back to a point in your past. But no, you?re just as full of attitude watching your past as you are in the present! The guys and I really thought we?d be able to break your hostile exterior.? He genuinely seems hurt, but it doesn?t faze me.

?The guys? What guys?? I put my hands on my hips and face him.

?Yes, the guys, well and some girls, my co-workers, we who work for St. Jude.?

?St. Jude.?

?Yes,? he says, his voice filled with pride

?The saint for hopeless cases??

?Exactly.?

Our banter is interrupted by a loud groan. We look over at Cory the rutting wonder and past Lily. I can tell Phillip assumes the noise came from Cory, but I remember it was me, expressing my sour mood. This guy had one move; put it in, pull it out and repeat. It got old fast.

I shake my head and look back at Phillip. ?They can?t see us, right??

?No, they can?t see us, or hear us, or anything like that. So getting back to St. Jude??

?Yes, ok?you work for the saint of hopeless causes, Phillip. I got that. So why are you here? Oh wait!? I put my hand up to stop him from talking. ?You and the guys think I am a hopeless case or cause or whatever! That?s a riot! Are you here to help me??

Frozen Phillip momentarily transitions into assistant Phillip. He looks down at his feet and scrunches his face. He appears embarrassed. I laugh loudly.

?You are! That?s insane! I don?t need any help!?

?Well, Lily, we disagree,? he starts speaking very slowly, as if he was talking to a child. ?We?ve been watching you for quite a few years. Your attitude toward your fellow man has been a bit?off kilter for more than a little while and we think it?s time to intervene. Most people who are not very nice eventually have an epiphany, a sort of a wakeup call and change their ways, but not you. You seem to thrive on making people miserable, but in the end it?s not going to help you.? Phillip stops and looks into my eyes. He?s probably trying to see if this is moving me at all. I stare blankly back at him, crossing my arms under my breasts.

?And?? I snap at him.

Phillip swallows before he continues. ?And every Christmas season, because at this time of the year people are often at their kindest, we are all given a ?hopeless case,? a person to turn around. This year I was given you as my project. I?ve been sent by the powers that be to help you find your kinder side. We think that somewhere under your cold exterior lies a warm heart, a gentler person and we?d like to bring that out in you.?

I howl with laughter. ?Wow, Phillip, do I feel sorry for you! How?d you get stuck with me? Did you draw the short straw?? I?m laughing so hard I?m in tears, but I stop soon after. The snow suit is too tight for a lot of mirth.

?Lily, I?m quite serious.?

?Oh I believe you, my dear. Don?t worry. The icy get up, the trip to the past, it?s all very dramatic, but come on, Phillip! Why on earth do you and your guys care about one bitchy woman? Besides, I don?t think I?m a hopeless case. I think I?m fabulous. You?re wasting your time. Aren?t there people who have seriously hopeless cases that you could be working on??

He smiles brightly. ?See right there! The fact that you can think of people other than yourself, that you can imagine there are suffering people who need help shows that you have a bit of warmth in your soul.?

I scoff at him. ?No it doesn?t. Phillip, I think most people are hopeless. If you helped people based on what I think, you?d never stop working. The only person I care about is me.? I pat his frozen cheek and walk over to watch the action in the center of the trees.

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Source: http://yougottaread.com/ivy-bateman-a-night-of-writing-improv-style/

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