It's a
TWENTY-FUCKING-SEVEN A4 page dialogue between Kay and Murphy I've been wrangling for these
past few days now, throwing out MOST of witty banter and inserting some Thomas Aquinas
level philosophy shit on responsibility and allowing yourself to joy and grief
in equal balance. The purpose of their conversation is to strip him of his
madness and make him want to survive and to solidify Kay’s talents into
something that won’t drive the reader crazy, as she seems to slide in an out of
realms and wakefulness like a crazy person. He points this out, praising she exists
in three parallel storylines and refuses to get her feet dirty in a single one.
The next phase of the editing is adding her diminishing stutter and coining his
wording as if he was from Macbeth. He
talks like this, namely:
Instead
of: “Don’t argue, I’m trying to help.”
He’ll
say: “Bout none defensive, I offer art!”
Yeah.
Fun times.
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