Ruby Sparks Page #2

Uh, but don't get too close.

He's a little scared of people.

You're an artist?

Yeah.

I'm super good.

Really?

What's your dog's name?

Uh, Scotty.

Are you Scottish?

No.

I named him for F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Who?

F. Scott Fitzgerald.

The novelist.

Great Gatsby.

I don't read a lot of fiction.

You've never heard of

F. Scott Fitzgerald?

Why? Is he really famous

and important?

Well, he's probably one of the greatest

novelists who ever lived.

Isn't that disrespectful?

What?

Naming your dog after him?

It's a little disrespectful.

No, it's a gesture.

Yeah, an aggressive gesture.

Think about it. You're a novelist.

You think this guy's the greatest.

So you name your dog after him

to cut him down to size.

This way,

you can put him on a leash...

...and yell "Bad Scotty"...

...and feel all superior

because you pee inside.

Kill your idols, man.

I'm all for it.

All right. Scotty.

Hang on.

This is beautiful.

Yeah.

Your dog might pee like a lady,

but I like him anyway.

Hey, what did you just say?

I like him just the way he is.

Yes.

Yes. Yes.

"...pooled into his eyes as though...

Rushed back like blood...

Calvin flushed with..."

You're a genius.

I thought we weren't gonna use that word.

You are really, really super f***ing smart.

"I'd like it to be bad."

I'm glad you found something

that inspires you.

Inspires me?

It overwhelms me.

I literally cannot sleep or eat.

All I want I do is write.

I mean, I almost didn't come here today

because I didn't wanna be away from her.

Oh, God.

What?

Oh, my God.

Oh, I can't say it out loud.

It's too stupid.

I love it when you say stupid things.

Oh, no, this is really profoundly stupid.

Okay.

Ugh.

Okay, so the guy I'm writing...

Yeah, what's his name?

Uh, Calvin.

I'm gonna change it.

Uh, anyway, there's a lot of me in him.

What I'm trying to say is...

...it's almost like I'm writing

to spend time with her.

Who?

The girl.

The one I'm writing. It's...

I go to sleep at night...

...just waiting to get to my typewriter

so I can be with her.

It's like...

It's like I'm falling in love with her.

That's wonderful.

I can't fall in love with a girl I write.

Why not?

Because she's not real.

Isn't she? Are you sure?

No. Yes.

She's some motherfucking product

of my imagination!

Oh, Lila treated me so badly.

I know.

Who leaves someone after

their father dies?

Someone who couldn't

love you properly.

Someone who is a heartless slut.

Okay.

Well, tell me about her.

I don't wanna talk about Lila anymore.

Well, I meant this girl that you're writing.

Tell me about her.

Ruby.

Ruby Sparks.

Twenty-six years old.

Raised in Dayton, Ohio.

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