Far Side of the River
Glimpsing a Larger Story
Photo of Dodge City, Kansas in 1875.
Let’s draft an opening scene, ask some questions, and break down what it means for the characters.
The scene is set in the Wild West. Dodge City, Kansas.
What’s the inspiration for this scene?
My friend got a cowboy hat for his birthday.
He’s a fan of Western films.
He grew up along the mighty Mississippi in a town whose golden age centered around the heyday of rail and steamboats.
I sent him the following dialog as a bit of fun. I juiced up the description of the bartender for purposes of this article, but the dialog is what I spontaneously created.
“Whiskey.”
“Well, Riverboat Kid. We seen your sketch in the papers. That scribbler did fine work,” marveled the bartender as he filled the shot glass. A grin pushed across his face. He leaned his mutton chops forward to be heard above the din. “Is it true about what happened in Memphis, if you don’t mind my asking?”
What do we know so far?
The main character is famous or infamous. His reputation precedes him.
The bartender probably sees all kinds pass through the saloon. He’s not a shrinking violet; in fact, he’s a bit of a gossip, but also not wanting to push his luck with the Riverboat Kid.
What else do we know or what other inferences do you make about the Riverboat Kid and the bartender?
My friend was obliging to co-create this character and story. The dialog that follows is the first part of his response as well as some of his descriptors of the whiskey.
The traveler breathed in the warmth of the whiskey. Aromas of soft caramel, notes of worn leather, and the fermented bite swirled in his nostrils, drifting deep into his head. He stared at the stout glass and gulped it down, his first decent drink since crossing the river.
“Don’t you ever call me that. Last dude called me ‘kid’ ended up wrapped in pine.”
What do you think about the Riverboat Kid’s response?
Here’s my thinking. It’s a strong line, but, I think, one that should be tempered.
It’s an aggressive statement, and while I think we want this character to be a badass, the hero (especially at the start of the story) should only say things that he would back up.
The main character is known as the Riverboat Kid in the newspapers. Would we expect him to go around threatening and slaying everyone who used that nickname in his presence?
Would it really get under his skin that much if he’s the brooding Clint Eastwood type?
“…ended up wrapped in pine” is a good line. Let’s make sure to save it for later in this unfolding story, but probably a few chapters down the road.
How about this?
“Of all the names in the papers,” he smirked, “that’s one I like best.”
This adds to the mystery of the character. Many names? A larger reputation than first presumed? How many dustups has this traveler been involved in… and emerged triumphant?
Also, if not Riverboat Kid, and not a generic ‘traveler’ or ‘the man’, what should we call this character?
We also need to make a decision if the bartender is a random, fleeting character or will the hero (eventually) strike up some mutually beneficial arrangement with him.
Is the hero the taciturn or affable type? Will he share his name with the bartender, and, more importantly, with the reader? Probably a short name. John, Tim, or Dan, something like that. If the hero’s name is Themistocles or Alcibiades, those names start to compete with any sobriquet, Riverboat Kid or otherwise.
Ok, let’s get back to my friend’s dialog…
“I don’t talk about Memphis no more. Much, anyway. Shit down south don’t run upstream, and I don’t intend to ferry it. I’m a reformed gentleman. A man of commerce. Enterprise.” He smacked down the glass and tapped his dirty fingernails against the bar for another. “You seem awfully pleased to see me. Tell me, and tell me cleanly, whose been looking through here for me?” He glanced about the crowded saloon. “Come on now. Squawk!”
I really like the dialog. The hero has seen much, tried to move beyond the past, but perhaps the past will come for him, claw him back to what he’d prefer to forget. This is classic storytelling, foreshadowing the reluctant hero returning to his prior life.
Ok, back to the action.
“No one.” The bartender’s hand trembled slightly as he refilled the glass. “Just that raven talisman on your hat band. Its recognition flies before you. The sketch in the paper had your face a little fuller, but I reckon you’ve had a hard ride.”
The saloon owner’s gaze swept across the large room, counting how many eyes appeared to take interest in his conversation with the newcomer. He tugged at his vest. “We got stew, thick bacon, and biscuits, if you like. Delicious sweet apple jam from Cincinnati. Some fine clams all the way from New Orleans, too.”
“I don’t mean anything by my question,” he continued. “Dodge City attracts all kinds. People fleeing. People looking to find something new. From the papers, that judge spared you the rope.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “The departed have kin and cousins in these parts. My boys and I run a civilized establishment. I don’t expect any trouble just now, but keep your back away from the door just in case.” He carefully observed the carousing crowd. “For a price, I’ll tell you a bit more, but not now.”
How should the hero respond?
Who is this bartender? An opportunist or a potential ally of the hero?
Leave a comment with your thoughts.
I post articles on the 2nd and 16th of each month to inspire creativity, worldbuilding, and storytelling. Your support is greatly appreciated. Subscribe and share this article with a friend.
If you’d like to see this story continue, leave a comment. If at least 5 people comment “part 2” or similar, I’ll ask my friend what the Riverboat Kid will do next.
Until next time… be well, keep creating, and keep telling stories.
—Andy
Part 2