As usual, RH did a superb job of going through this – not only catching some deep POV fixes, but also some structural issues to do with her filmmaking, etc.  Note the discussion about using senses to create a picture of the emotion the POV character is feeling, also.   It so helps to have another set of eyes, doesn’t it?   Note too, there were a couple suggestions RH made that I may incorporate into the next draft, as I clean it up.  Then I’ll hand it to SK, and let the polisher at it!  

 

RH comments highlighted in green, SMW comments highlighted in yellow, and new changes in RED.

 

As always – if you have any questions, head over to VOICES!

 

Chapter 2.1 Rough Draft B

 

“It just feels like running to me, Greg, and the truth is…I never run.” MacKenzie got up and walked to the railing of his rooftop porch, overlooking Manhattan Beach.  Greg didn’t exactly have a sandy front yard, but from three stories up on his Mediterranean style home, she could see the ocean RH: climbing SURFING (to use a beach term instead of a mountain term) (SMW:  OH, LOVE THAT!!) up the store, reaching past the last gilded rays of the day into the shadows of twilight. RH: Lovely. Palm trees, and volleyball nets along the shore shivered in the wind, and the sun iced the roofs of then neighboring homes in hues of gold.

 

 RH: Is there a reason you’re using “cold” terms like shivered and iced? I get that LA can be cold, but the reference to beaches and palm trees puts me in a sunny mood. Can you indicate a contrast with the warm clime symbols and the actual temperature if it is indeed  cold in LA?  SMW:  It’s 56 in LA today, and was a bit cooler, I think, last week.  And with the breeze coming in off the ocean, I wanted her to be cold.  Plus, her emotions are sort of “chilly with fear” so I wanted to convey this through her 5 senses.  I think, if it was warm, it would make her feel more calm, safer.  And I want her to be to unsettled.  

“No, Hayes O’Brien, 006, never runs.  You, MacKenzie Grace, are allowed to run.  To hide, to go far, far away and lie low while the media forgets.”  Behind her, Greg didn’t rise from his lounge chair.  RH: Does she have eyes in the back of her head? SMW: LOL!  Okay, okay…

She glanced at Greg, who hadn’t risen from the lounge chair behind her.  “I might never return, then, Greg.”  Her wrist still hurt, despite the brace, and she babied it even as she pulled her sweater around her.  letting the night creep into her skin.  . RH: Just have the night creeping in. “letting or felt” can be passive at times and distance us. And, how does she let the night creep in? I’d use “let” if she’s trying to identify with the night. “letting the night creep into her skin, filling the rest of the dark crevasses of her soul”  or something like that.  SMW:  GOOD THOUGHT!    The night crept through the holes and into her skin.  “I’m just so tired of being the top headline WHERE , of everyone IS deciding how I might resurrect my career, or DECLARING MY CAREER’S perhaps how it’s over, or even questioning why I would make an indy film, as if that might be some sort of desperate attempt to show that I can act.  Did it ever occur to them that I wanted to make this film?  Because it’s an issue that matters?”  She shook her head.  “I’m just…tired.” 

RH: Good. SUGG: A lot of stars do indie films because they are character driven, introspective, socially minded films and it helps their images, especially if they have a larger than life character like a 006. We don’t think they can really act. So stars do these character driven movies to prove their prowess. Like Farrah Fawcett, or Cher. Or Jennifer Anniston doing slow, character driven movies to get acclaim from the rom coms or tv show reputation. SMW: I like this insight – I’m going to tweak this bit. See above changes.

Bone tired.  The kind of tired that came from running too long without stopping to rest.  Or even to figure out where she was headed.   “I just feel like everyone else has control of my life but me…”

“I know the press hasn’t been kind—”

“Not kind?”  MacKenzie shot him a look over her shoulder she hoped he could read.  “They’ve practically eviscerated me.  It’s not enough that my home is half-torched and that my bodyguard has second degree burns FROM protecting me, but now Nils has me practically framing him for the attack!”

 

RH: Who him? The body guard or Nils?  SMW: Well, Nils, since he’s the last name I used before the pronoun…I think that’s correct.  We’ll leave this for SK’s thoughts. J

“I told you not to talk to the press.  You were upset, and no one handles their words well when they’re upset.” Greg’s tone was so quiet, she turned just to make sure she heard him correctly.

“Are you blaming the feeding frenzy on me?” 

“I’m just saying  that maybe you shouldn’t have given a statement right afterward. Especially one implicating your ex-husband.”

“I didn’t implicate him. I said, every year Nils sent me a gift – and someone figured that out and used it to get into my house.” 

“It clearly made it sound like Nils was out to get you.  You can’t expect his camp to sit on that without responding.  And the Star’s headline certainly didn’t help.” 

The flash of memory made MacKenzie cringed.  MacKenzie Grace suspects ex-husband, Academy Award winner in attack.

Yes, that was an unfortunate piece of newsprint. RH: LOL

RHL Just a thought: if we’re in deep POV, do we need to know a character “remembered” or had a memory flash? Isn’t it obvious she would remember? Talking out loud here. Working through this thought on my own WIP. I think it feels like we have to tell the reader. “the character is remembering” but I think it’s clear to show the character reacted – cringed – and type out the headline. J SMW: Great thought, RH!  You’re right – when we use words like “saw, felt, remembered, thought,” etc., it takes us out of deep POV.  Just stay in POV and go right to the action. Great catch!  

{“Okay, I can admit that I should have just ignored the flashbulbs and mics – but I hadn’t gotten a hold of my parents yet, and I knew they’d be worried.  I just…wanted everyone to know that I was okay, and maybe to pray for Tony.  I didn’t know what to do–”  }

 

RH: Hmm, I’m not buying she spoke to the press as a way to inform her parents. They may not keep up with tabloid news. Can you give us another motivation like, she wanted the attacker to know she was okay, he couldn’t best her? Or something?  SMW: I like this better!  See tweaks below!

“Okay, I can admit that I should have just ignored the flashbulbs and mics – but frankly, I’d had it with being the victim.  It was time to show I wasn’t beat, wasn’t going to let Hollywood, or my ex-husband, or some crazy stalker take me down.  I just wanted to fight back a little…like Hayes.”

      “Maybe a little less Hayes would’ve been good.  Especially since Hayes doesn’t have an ex-husband to indict.”

“I didn’t blame Nils!”

“I know that, but next time you feel the need to fight back, wait for me.  I was on my way—“

“You were at the Vanity Fair party, talking to Posh Beckam, if I recall.  I was surprised you even bothered to show up.” 

“That’s not fair, Kenzie.  You’re my girl.  I don’t care if I had been having a rousing chat with Steven Spielberg – You needed me.  And I’m here for you.” 

 

RH: Excellent show of Greg’s character.

Yes, he had been there for her –from the very minute he showed up at the hospital. He’d arranged transportation and security, and a hotel to stay in, and finally a room in his own digs just because she couldn’t stop shaking.

 

RH: Good, but with all the intermittent conversation, I’d forgotten Greg was trying to get her to go somewhere. Can you reword a bit. Like, “This is why I think you should go away …” SMW:  Oh, good catch!

“This is why I think you should go away.  I’m telling you, Kenzie, it’s not a badge of cowardice to leave and hide out somewhere.  Heal a little bit.  You can’t exactly throw yourself into another role with a broken wrist.”

 “Cracked.  And I’ll be as good as new in no time.”  Well, okay.  She might never be as good as new.  A week later, she still needed a sedative to sleep, still heard Tony’s moans, still smelled the acrid nose-curling smoke of the elephant and all her mementos burning.  Most of all, she still tasted her own fear welling in her mouth as she helped Tony from the house.

 

RH: Good!

      “I just want them to find Leon, put him back behind bars.” She couldn’t believe that her most famous stalker, crazy Leon Hicks had found her again.

 

RH: This surprised me. Who is Leon. How does she know he was the one? Can you give us a lead in to this character? Or let his name be in the dialog. “I just want them to find Leon… the detective said it looked like his work. I can’t believe he found me again.”   SMW:  See changes!   Three restraining orders, and finally a stint in prison – LEON WAS OUT AND AFTER HER. AGAIN. wouldn’t the guy give up?  SMW:  I like my question here better – I feel like it’s closer POV.  Wouldn’t the guy give up?  She returned to the table, picked up the cup of chamomile tea Greg’s housekeeper had prepared for her and sat on the lounge chair next to him. 

“LA police picked him up yesterday.  Unfortunately, he’s lawyered up, but they’re still holding him while they track down his alibi.”  Well, at least she wouldn’t have any more exploding elephants on her doorstep. RH: Good!

MacKenzie took a sip of her tea.  Her cup rattled as she set it back into the saucer.  She ran her thumb down the handle.  “Poor Marissa.  She didn’t know it wasn’t a gift – she thought it was from Nils.”

As did the entire country, thanks to her babbling.  She just wanted to grab those hours back, not only the ones outside the hospital, when she accompanied Tony into the ER, but going back further, before the elephant, before even Nils, maybe all the way back to the day she’d packed up her Ford Escort and headed to Duke University, riding high on her academic scholarships.  Maybe a look backward, to the girl she’d been — at her mama waving goodbye from the front porch, and her daddy, hands thick with grease, standing in the door of the barn — would help her remember who she should be today.

Whether she should run, and hide, like Greg wanted, or stand her ground.

“Listen, we both know the press is having a heyday with your run of bad luck.” 

 

RH: WE kind of know this. WE see this picture. I recommend deleting and getting to the discussion of Kenzie leaving town. SMW:  I think it goes to the Hollywood press problem…they are combining everything and putting it into a package with the Indy film.  I think I’ll just tweak alittle.

“It’s hardly bad luck to have someone try and kill you.” 

Greg held up his hand.  “Agreed.  But negative press of this kind isn’t going to help you raise funds to promote your indy film.   The press will only predict that the film is a flop, and you’ll be getting negative reviews before it’s even screened.  You’re better off laying low for a while.  Take a look at those scripts I left on your bureau—”

 

RH: Earlier it appeared like she didn’t want to do an indy film. Remember, the press was recommending her to do an indy film. Just fix to show which one works for the story. J SMW:  See previous changes…

 “Stop!  Can you hear yourself?  I have a stalker after me – and all you can think about is what bimbo part I’m going to play in my next movie.  I told you – I don’t want to do those kind of films anymore.” 

 

RH: Hmm, this reaction feels a bit jarring. The line above Greg is talking about her indy film and now Kenzie’s talking about bimbo parts. Can you add a line or two of dialog to show us where Kenzie wants her career to be.  SMW: Good idea!

Greg’s mouth tightened into a grim line.  He wasn’t that much older than her – maybe ten years, and despite his efforts to shave the good ‘old boy persona from his demeanor, he still emitted a certain southern boy charm that netted him the right tables, and handshakes from top-level studio execs.  That southern charm had been exactly what made her trust him when she’d arrived in LA, her escort packed to the roof, his name scrawled on a strip of paper.

He wielded his inner gentleman now as he gave her a sad look. RH: Lovely!  “Sweetheart, those kind of films pay your bills.  And, right now, unless I’m mistaken, producing your Indy film has sucked every morsel of cash from your account.  You need a “bimbo” part if you hope to fund any more deep, probing, life-changing movies, or even promote this one.”  He touched her hand. 

“Kenzie, I’m on your side.  You need money, and I know how to get it for you.  You’re a good actress, and directors are lining up for you.” 

 

RH: Again, earlier we see her career as failing. Why is it failing or faltering? Why would directors want to be with her. I think we need more on her desire to do the indy work, but Hollywood loves her as an action figure.

She couldn’t help the harrumph that burped out at his words.  “Then tell me my ex got the academy nomination, and I got ‘best dressed of 2008’ by Hollywood Tonight.” 

“Because you are beautiful.”

“I want to be brilliant.” 

“I think you’re brilliant.”

“I pay you to say that.”  RH: Good! LOL

He smiled.   “Whatever you say, honey.  I call it like I see it. The fact is you have plenty of roles you can choose from — just not with the parts you want.” 

“What if I want to be more than Hayes O’Brian, super spy?  I want to be taken seriously, and offered roles that will impact people, change lives.”

“Like your indy film?” 

 

RH: This conversation needs to come earlier.

She lifted a shoulder.  “Maybe.  Hopefully.  People need to know about the horror of human trafficking. 

RH: This seems like we’re broadcasting to the reader what the film is about. Can you weave it in a bit smoother? Maybe hint in earlier dialog?  Okay, I’ll read it and see if I agree, and then maybe I can do that in the next version – it’s hard to see it when it’s in parts like this.  Look for any  changes in the final edit…

What it feels like to have your identity, your choices, your life stripped from you.”  Sort of how she felt right now.  She pressed her hand to her stomach.  No, she’d seen the truth in the empty eyes of twelve year old girls.  Her life wasn’t anything like the terror of victims of human trafficking.  But, she had a glimpse and that made her even more resolute.  “Yes, I want my film, my roles, my life, to make an impact for good..”

“I get it, Kenzie, I do.  But give it time.  Right now, you’re broke, you have no place to live, the cops are trying to nail evidence on your attacker, and it doesn’t take a therapist to see how badly you need R and R.  I know you’re roaming my house at night.  I also know how much warm milk you’re going through—”

“My mama’s favorite recipe.”

He smiled, and she warmed to it. 

“Why can’t I just go home? Back to North Carolina?”

“For the very reasons you’ve never told anyone your real name, or the truth about your parents.  The press could so easily track you there, and then what?” 

Mackenzie closed her eyes.  Yes, that would be the last thing her parents needed.  A convoy of vehicles tearing up their front yard, the gladiolas along the side of the trailer.  She couldn’t bear for anything to happen to them.  Childhood habits weren’t easy to escape. RH:  Excellent!

“Where do you suggest I go?” 

Greg finished his drink, set it on the arm of his chair.  “My family has a little cabin, set back in the woods in Tennessee.  It’s clean and safe, and no one would suspect it.” 

“Aw…”

“Listen, you love the Blue Ridge Mountains, and this place is right on the Appalachian Trail.  Gorgeous.  Fresh air, magnolias and the song of mourning doves.” RH: Good! J I’m there.

“Oh, you make it sound so romantic.”

“Could be.  You never know.  That wouldn’t hurt you either.”

MacKenzie shot him a bare smile, then set her own half-empty cup on the ground.  “I don’t know.  What about my film?  What about Tony?  And Marissa is scared to death, not to mention, jobless while the house is repaired.”

“I’ll check in on Tony and Marissa.  And I’ll keep an eye on your house.  Most of all, you’ll be out of the way, safe, which will let the cops nail Leon for his crime.” 

“And it’ll keep me off the front pages.”

The sun had shuffled below the horizon now, leaving the summer of orange on the horizon.  The black tufted outline of palm trees scrubbed the twilight.

 “We’ll tell the press you went to a private spa in Turks and Caicos.”

“Couldn’t I go there instead?”  

“The best part is, I have a cousin who lives out that way.  He’s former military.  I’m going to ask him to check in you now and again – “

“Greg—”

“Don’t give me that tone.  You do as I say, let me straighten out things here, read through those scripts and decide which one you want to do.”

“What if I don’t want to do any of them?” 

He sighed.  “Then maybe you need to figure out who you are – actress, or broke producer.  RH: Did we know she was a producer? SMW: I hinted above (in this draft) Because at this point, you don’t have enough money to do both.” 

Oh. 

“Go home, sweetheart.  Eat some grits, drink sweet tea, swing on the porch swing, walk Roan Mountain.  Relax.  Leon Hicks won’t track you to the hills of Tennessee.  And if he does, I promise, my cousin Luke will know exactly what to do.”

 

RH: Excellent!!!

AGAIN, Susie does a great job with pacing, scene and setting. We are there, involved with the senses and with Kenzie’s plight. She’s savvy and sympathetic. J

Great edits, Rach!  I can’t wait to paste it all together!