conversations.from: human
conversations.value: a plot for a book about Azael, American, Lexi entitled The Knife and the Butterfly
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Knife and the Butterfly: The novel, set in Houston, is about a 15-year old Salvadoran American MS-13 gang member named Martín "Azael" Arevalo.\nHe wakes up in a prison cell and observes 17-year old White American Alexis "Lexi" Allen, who is member of another gang, Crazy Crew.\nAs the novel unfolds he begins to recover his memory and learn whether the upcoming trial will be his or hers.\nAzael slowly gains sympathy for Lexi, even though he originally hates her.\nThe book reveals that on June 16, 2011 Azael died in a gang fight in Montrose, at Ervan Chew Park.\nLexi had killed him; she initially maintains self-defense at the trial, but confesses to wanting to prove herself to Crazy Crew, and that Azael was not actually trying to kill her.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first four paragraphs for this book. End with the sentence ' It's like I want to replay that part, but my brain's a jacked-up DVD player that skips back again and again to the same damn scene, the last thing I can remember right.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Knife and the Butterfly
  I wake up with that all-over shitty feeling you get the day after a rumble. Head splitting, guts twisted. All that's left of my dream is a memory of black and silver. I sit up, thinking about snatching the baggie from under the couch and going to the back lot for a joint before Pelón can bust my balls for smoking his weed.
  Except then I realize I'm not at Pelón's. I'm on this narrow cot with my legs all tangled up in a raggedy-ass blanket. It's dark except for a fluorescent flicker from behind me. I get loose of the covers and take four steps one way before I'm up against another concrete wall. Six steps the other way, and I'm bumping into the shitter in the corner. There's a sink right by it. No mirror. Drain bolted into the concrete floor. I can make out words scrawled in Sharpie on the wall to one side of the cot: WELCUM HOME FOOL. I turn around, already half-knowing what I'm going to see.
  Bars. Through them, I take in the long row of cells just like this one. I'm in lockup. Shit, juvie again? It's only been four months since I got out of Houston Youth Village. Village, my ass.
  I sit back down on the cot and try to push through the fog in my brain from the shit we smoked yesterday. Thing is, I've got no memory of getting brought in here. It's like I want to replay that part, but my brain's a jacked-up DVD player that skips back again and again to the same damn scene, the last thing I can remember right.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: five more paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I just told her, "Now you gonna be reminded every time you put this on that I'm changing for you, baby. 'Cause you're my world."
  She made sure her boss wasn't out in the front of the store, then she kissed me long and hard. After that she kicked me back out into the mall.
  When Gabe comes by this morning, he makes a kind of surprised grunt. I guess he saw that I didn't eat my dinner last night.
  I don't move. I have the blanket over my head and I'm not planning on doing anything but lie here for the rest of the day.
  Shit, now Gabe's blackmailing me? I make a lot of noise sitting up on the cot so he'll know I heard him. Last thing I need is more trouble.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last four paragraphs. End with the sentence ' For teens like Lexi and Azael, the knife is often easier to find than the butterfly, but that doesn't mean the butterfly isn't there.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: In a statement to the police the following day, Benton asserted, "When he started to run away, that's when I caught him." She also laughed repeatedly and described eating at a Mexican restaurant after the stabbing.
  But when Benton was tried for murder in 2007, her lawyers argued that she struck Granillo in self-defense. That trial ended with a hung jury, and Benton later accepted a plea bargain. In exchange for pleading guilty to aggravated assault with a deadly weapon, she received five years of probation. After two years, a judge suspended the remaining probation, and Benton was free to go on with her life.
  I learned a great deal about MS-13, which has been described by some as the world's most dangerous gang, but I focused on the particulars of MS-13's activity in Houston. I also researched street writers (graffiti artists) to understand what making a mark on the city's face might mean to a teen like Azael. Finally, I explored the particularities of the Salvadoran immigrant community in Houston. Spanish speakers will notice the occasional use of "vos" by Azael's older relatives, which is characteristic of Salvadoran Spanish, while Azael's and his peers' speech reflects the influence of other dialects.
  Above all, I wanted to show Azael and Lexi's world as much more than just a patchwork of crime and violence. In addition to the very real threat of their circumstances and the danger of poor choices, I hope to have captured these two teens' vulnerability and their potential for redemption. For teens like Lexi and Azael, the knife is often easier to find than the butterfly, but that doesn't mean the butterfly isn't there.