Hi Book  Bloggers,

We’re off on our Blog-a-Book. We are so excited! This is a GREAT story.

Let’s go over some ground rules.

Susie is writing a rough chapter. On purpose. This gives me an opportunity to give input and help us think through our writing. What kind of questions should we be asking ourselves?

Anytime there is a first draft, it gives us opportunity to see where we’re going with the story and how we can tweak our prose, goals, motivation, and conflict. Also how to layer and deepen POV.

Let’s dive into the story.

Chapter 1.1

“Just once, I’d like to take the Oscar walk down Hollywood Boulevard in my jeans, a blue devil’s tee-shirt, and a pair of flipflops.” Who is she talking to? I’d like to have the setting before the dialog. Can you move “a thousand lights” as the opening line and have MacKenzie Grace walk into the light, reporters calling her name? That way, we are deep in her POV, and she doesn’t have to introduce herself, and we’re pulled into the scene a bit sooner. MacKenzie Grace pulled her wrap tight around her shoulders, even as the February chill found the liberal gaps in her dress and raised gooseflesh. A thousand lights blinked down at her from the Kodak Theater, and around her, limousines honked and maneuvered to the end of the red carpet. Exhaust mixed with the fragrances of a thousand starlets and the earthy smell from the palm trees lined up like sentries along Hollywood Boulevard. “Hurry up, Tony.” Who is Tony?

Sure, she liked her silver Jimmy Choos, Suggestion: Christian Louboutin shoes are the high end Jimmy Choo and really popular now. the deep purple satin gown picked by her stylist from some new Australian designer, but MacKenzie could do without the ten pound emerald earrings pulling at her ears, and especially the fact that every flash, every pop of light, meant that some gossip rag had fresh ammunition to litter her shame across the newsstands of America.

No, not her shame. After all, she’d been half-way across the world, filming in the back alleys and dregs of Bangkok, trying to expose the underbelly of human trafficking. While her husband – no, make that ex-husband as if two weeks ago — exposed his heart to the leading lady in his, yes, Oscar-nominated film.

Let’s open this up some and having MacKenzie talking to a Red Carpet reporter. Walk on characters can broaden a scene, give us movement and dialog. 🙂

“MacKenzie, MacKenzie,” red carpet host for Hollywood Tonight, blocked her next move, shoving a microphone in her face.

“Gloria, so lovely to see you.” Smile. Forced, if necessary.

“MacKenzie you should be the one earning an Oscar tonight for her your brilliant, magnanimous smile. (Delete, especially when the camera panned her direction and zoomed in on her expression as Nils Bruno landed his first award for Best Actor.) . How do you feel about your ex-husband being nominated for best actor?”

“There’s a first time for everything, no?”

Gloria laughed too hard. Too loud.

“Nils is an amazing actor.”

Nils, aka Robby, the car-washing burger flopper from McDonalds.

Then again, she’d been a roller-skating waitress from the hills of North Carolina. Are there still roller-skating waitresses? Feels old fashioned.

Three seconds. The camera turned on her for roughly as long as their marriage had lasted. Still, she’d practically ground her molars to dust watching Nils accept the award, nod to his new wife – I was under the impression MacKenzie was just arriving, but now I see she’s leaving the awards. Either one works but can you add a time frame in the beginning? weren’t they supposed to be on their honeymoon? – and cleanly excise the woman who’d believed in him, the one who’d ran lines with him, and footed the bill for his shiny white teeth, from his life.

This line is a bit bumpy. Maybe smooth it out some.

Also, layer in a few of the senses. Is it night? Cold? What is her physical response to this evening? Is her stomach tight? Does she have a headache? On the verge of crying? Do her feet hurt? Just a line or two to get more under her skin and inside her head.

He used to eat out of the dumpster outside Wolfgang Pucks! she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. LOL!!!

Thought: Or he waxes his eyebrows. Wears male shaping accessories under his clothes because he’s got a flab ring around the middle he can’t get rid of. (saw it on Rachael Ray at the gym.)

But a woman trying to charm Hollywood into backing her recent Indy film, the one she hoped would launch her from action-thriller babe to serious actress, shouldn’t publically disparage one of America’s ‘sexiest men alive’.

She still had his old ratty converse in a box at home. Maybe she could sell it on e-bay, earn some cash to promote her film, maybe raise some discerning heads in the industry…

(Delete: Oh, who was she kidding? Feels a bit chicky) She’d been Hayes O’Brien, 006, international action heroine for so long, directors probably forgot she’d earned a degree in drama at Duke. Or that, for a very short run, she’d even been courted by Broadway.

Then again, maybe everyone had simply weeded through her photo-shopped beauty to the truth. She couldn’t act her way out of a paper bag. Thought: How about “Max Factored” (in the movie she wouldn’t be photoshopped)

Oh, no, there went Tommy Nave’s nasally sixth grade voice in her head again.

“I just got off the phone with Tony. He’s about five limos back.”

Let’s see Greg from MacKenzie’s point of view.What you have is great, but add a dialog response.

“What would I do without you, Greg Alexander, agent extraordinaire.” MacKenzie didn’t want to imagine life without him. She’d lost enough already. ,(Delete: tucked his blackberry into his pocket, slid in closer to her, and) He wrapped a warm hand around her shoulders. She WANTED TO (Delete: didn’t) lean into him – better not encourage the press. They already had her dating at least three actors, two of whom she’d never even met. “You’re doing great, Mackenzie,” Greg said, lifting his hand to wave to – oh it didn’t matter. She looked away.

You’re doing great. Add a physical reaction. MacKenzie walking faster, bumping past autograph seekers. What’s happening outside the awards? Where is she? Can you add a thought like “Doing great for a woman with no future” or something to give us another picture into her heart yet leave us wondering.

He sounded like a doctor, just another pinch, and yes, this will hurt a bit. She felt as if she’d had her insides filleted watching Nils march down the red carpet, looking resplendent in his tails. Challenge: Sometimes words like “felt” or “let” draw us a step away from the character. In this case, it works, but can we power it up one? Go straight to how she feels. “Watching Nils accept his award filleted her insides. Drawing a deep breath hurt between her ribs.” She had turned off the television in the limo before she did something stupid – or perhaps smart? – and ordered Tony to turn her around, take her home.

When was the television on? Can you add a reference here? Was it when she was driving into the ceremony?

Besides, well, she didn’t exactly know where “home” might be anymore.

Greg lifted his arm, (Delete: clearly) AND waveding Tony to the curb. “Okay, sweetheart, you go home, get changed, and I’ll meet you at the Vanity Fair party.” He held out his hand to MacKenzie, as if to help her into the limo.

She ignored it, let the footman open the door for her, gathered her dress and slid into the seat. But before Greg could shut the door, she put her hand out to stop it. “I’m not going.”

It’s always good to have dialog lead if possible. Let’s move “What?” to the beginning, before the action. He’d (Delete: been already) turnEDing away, (Delete: his attention) migrating toward his next client. “What?” (Delete: He looked baffled, as if she might have been speaking Bengali.) It’s clear by the dialog and setting Greg is surprised by MacKenzie’s declaration. Try, when writing action tags or responses, to consider of the scene and dialog broadcast the character’s reaction to the reader. “Did you say you weren’t going?”

“I’m not going.” MacKenzie (Delete: began) pullEDing off one of her Jimmy Choos. “I’m tired. I (Delete: still) have jet lag, and I’ll just be followed around all night with microphones and cameras, gossip magazines wondering if I’m (Delete: still) pining after Nils. (Delete: The answer, by the way, is no.) We can delete this line because Greg probably knows her answer is no,” (Delete: She waited for a response, but he just stared at her, as if still trying to comprehend her words.) Greg seems to be sharper than this.

“(Delete: Greg,) I just want to go home, soak in a bath, maybe eat some pizza.” Or pie. Yes, pie. Add this line to the last of the dialog above. And tell me what kind of pie. The richness if a story is sometimes in the details! 🙂

(Delete: Greg finally stirred to life – probably at the thought of her reckless consumption of calories.) “Kenzie, hon, you need the press MacKenzie also needs Hollywood big guns on her side moe than the press. Wouldn’t Greg want her there smoozing, getting face time with the people she wants to back her movie? on your side when you go out knocking on doors to find backers. Tonight is the perfect night to generate buzz. You’ve been laying low for –”

“I’ll call you later.” She pulled the door closed and leaned against the seat, thankful for the silence embedded in the plush seats. Tony, his dark hair slicked back, a silver earring in his left ear glanced up at her in the rear view mirror.

“Home, Miss Grace?”

“Please.” (Delete: She pressed her arms against her waist.) Going straight to “home” and in internal thoughts feels like deeper POV. Home. (Delete: No,) Hhome was a tidy double-wide with brown shag carpeting, a weather-bare pink velour sofa, and an irritable tabby named Boss probably running its claws down her mother’s orange polyester drapes. There’d be a bowl of cold grits in the fridge, and possibly a container of store-bought animal crackers on the counter with the lions missing, of course. And her father slumped asleep in his ripped vinyl recliner waiting for (Delete: her mother) Mama get off her shift at the rayon factory. Love this! Good picture of her home life and her parents.

Sometimes to get that close-hug of POV, eliminate personal pronouns like he or she. By replacing “her mother” with “Mama” we are deeper in MacKenzie’s head and heart.

Longing curled through her they passed the luminous red pagoda of Mann’s Chinese theater, lit up for the Academy Awards, and across the street, Hollywood’s Roosevelt Hotel, its neon red-sign an icon of the silver screen. This location needs to come earlier in the scene so we get a picture of her setting. Lovely description! Places her parents had never seen.

Never would, thanks to the fact that Mama couldn’t figure out how those “tin cans stay in the air.” Not sure what tin cans … oh, airplanes?

MacKenzie eased off her other shoe, and brought her foot up to rub the stress from her cramped toes. “Could we stop by Patrick’s Roadhouse, maybe pick up a banana cream pie?”

Tony flashed her a smile, How does he do this? Show how he does. In the review mirror? and it was the first genuine thing she’d see all day. Good!

She closed her eyes, forcing herself not to see Nils with Isobel, nor his smile and the prodigal swirl of joy at his win. Not sure what prodigal swirl of joy means. I get there’s a back story here but can you add more or use a different word? He’d worked hard for his nomination. And, judging by the double-digit messages he’d left on her machine, perhaps he hadn’t forgotten the woman who’d helped him land his first role. Earlier, she indicated he had “excised” her from his life. So why did he call her? Seems he had forgotten her.

“A whole pie, or just a piece, ma’am?” Tony said, pulling up to the Roadhouse. The place teemed with people, some eating out on the patio, and hers wasn’t the only limo in the parking lot.

“Just a piece would be perfect.” It wasn’t her mama’s, but then again, the roadhouse didn’t have her mama’s secret ingredient, the taste of love. Good. I’d also love a small memory here of making the pie with her mama. A line or two?

(Delete: Oh brother, she was turning into a country-song right before her eyes. Next thing, she’d dissolve into a y’all while she was fixin’ to dive into her paeh. ) Don’t think this adds anything and leans toward a chick sound. The prose is strong without it.

Tony returned with her comfort food Suggestion: instead of telling us it’s her comfort food, show us. What is her physical response to the thought of yummy banana cream pie?

Tony returned with her pie and her mouth watered, her middle gurgled and the idea of Nils winning an Oscar didn’t seem like such a big deal any more.

Something like that. Check those places where you can “show us” how an object effects our emotions.

Pie – comfort food.

Shoes – leather gold.

Ice cream – heaven on earth.

Or whatever. See what I mean? Name the object then describe how it effects the protagonist. EX: Susie shoved a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. She was floating, high above the ground, the cool sweetness easing the memory of her day. (ta-da, heaven on earth.) 🙂

in a Styrofoam container and she didn’t bother to wait until she’d changed out of her dress, or he’d pulled into her winding, Cyprus tree bordered drive and stopped at her front portico to dive in. She did manage to restrain herself from licking the cream from the container with her tongue. She used her finger, instead, just for Mama. Excellent.

The lights sprayed down from the hovering palms as she stepped out onto her terracotta-tiled porch, and handed Tony the empty container and her fork in a bag. Then she scooped up her shoes, dangling them from her fingers as she tiptoed into the house.

The front door opened without pause – Tony must have unlocked it – Does he not know where Tony is? Seems she’d be following him. Make the parenthetical statement a question. “How did Tony unlock the door already?” and she dropped her shoes onto a padded rattan bench, flicked on a light. “Marissa?”

No response from her housekeeper. TonYe walked in behind her, carrying her purse. “Everything okay, Miss Grace?”

She glanced at him, and something about the way he looked past her, to her open living room made her pulse turn to slurry. “What?”

Can we have some of her physical reaction here? What’s going on? Thoughts racing, hands shaking, nerves running under her skin. Heart beating.

What is the feel and sight of the house. Rich browns, low lights. Just a slight touch of senses of the room.

“Did you have that shipped, because it wasn’t in your luggage.” He touched his hand on her arm ever so briefly, then moved past her, toward what looked like an armchair covered with a dust cloth sitting in the middle of her sunken family room.

“No…I’ve never—“

(Delete: He’d reached it and now pulled the cover off. ) We see that Tony is in motion.

MacKenzie fought the swirl of delight that found her chest. Nisl hadn’t forgotten. No, he’d remembered their joke, her first red-carpet appearance when she’d nearly ended up on her face in front of Meryl Streep. MacKenzie the Elephant.

An elephant in bronze on her coffee table. A china elephant in her kitchen. An impressionist print of an elephant over her fireplace. This was a bit confusing. Can we have a physical motion from MacKenzie? Like, “her eyes scanned the room. There was a bronze elephant on her coffee table… etc., etc.”

(Delete:And now,) Let’s go back to Tony’s action. “Tony tugged a nearly life-sized stuffed baby elephant OUT OF THE CARTON AND SET IT in the middle of THE (Delete: her) family room, wrapped in a magnificent yellow bow.

Oh, Nils.

So, maybe she’d forgive him for not mentioning her tonight in his litany of thank-yous. He clearly remembered what they’d had together, knew what she’d meant to him. “I can’t believe – “

But Tony had finished reading the card, and when he turned, his expression stopped her cold. Chilled her to the bone. Let’s have Tony read the card. The reader needs to know. Then give us a physical reaction of MacKenzie as she realizes the elephant is not a Nil’s thank you.

And that’s when she heard the ticking.

Tony had slapped his arm around her waist and was already tackling her to the floor when the bomb exploded.

Excellent.

The set up of the story is excellent. We are in MacKenzie’s world right away. Doesn’t take a Harvard degree to understand she’s a wounded actress. We are sympathetic for her right away. We want to be her friend. This is the first key to writing a winning story. A relatable, sympathetic heroine.

Now, I’m not a famous actress, but I don’t need to be to relate to MacKenzie. Susie’s masterful characterization skills shine on her rough draft. We see her goal, motivation. I rarely mentioned a lack in those elements.

Each of you will have a strength that shines through in your writing. But for this exercise, we’ll be looking for ways to strengthen our work.

My thinking as I edit

I suggest to the author what I think will strengthen the story. Her work is art and I don’t want to tamper with her artistry, but how can I help her draw strong lines, use bolder colors? I don’t mess with Susie’s voice, just technical issues she might want to consider.

I’ve inserted bits of instruction that I hope will help all of us. I just learned a few of them myself!

Good job, Susie!