Oh, this is good stuff by Susan! One of the things she wanted me to mention is, like with all editors, authors have feedback on all suggestions – because that is what they are, suggestions. But, as evidenced by this edit, Editors really know what they are doing, and it has to be something I feel strongly about if I am going to disagree. Great job on this piece, SK! I’m going to accept changes, make a few more tweaks and it’ll go in the hopper!
Chapter 2.1 Rough Draft C with SKD line edits.
“It just feels like running to me, Greg, and the truth is…I never run.” [SKD: I had to read this sentence over a couple of times before it sank in that she wasn’t referring to jogging. Would conceding defeat be too out of character? Maybe hide/hiding?] MacKenzie walked to the railing of his [SKD: This pronoun sounds like you’re saying MacKenzie is a “him.” Either insert Greg or use the instead.]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 [SKD: insert Pacific here to further cement which ocean she’s overlooking.] ocean surfing up the store [SKD: assuming you meant SHORE here and not store?], [SMW: J]reaching [SKD: reaching not necessary.] past the last gilded rays of the day into twilight’sthe shadows of twilight. [SKD: more efficient to just say twilight’s shadows.] [SMW: it is more efficient, but I prefer the beats of “the shadows of twilight.] Palm trees, and volleyball nets along the shore shivered in the wind, and the sun iced melted [again, I like the idea of iced – like frosting, and also the feeling of cold] the roofs of then neighboring homes into hues of gold.
“No, Hayes O’Brien, 006, [SKD: why italics? I’d set in roman type unless it’s a movie title.] [SMW: or, sometimes for emphasis, which is how I used it here.]never runs. [Jogging again. J] You, MacKenzie Grace, are allowed to run. To hide, to go far, far away and lie low while the media forgets.”
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. The night crept through the holes and into her skin. “I’m just so tired of being the top headline where everyone is deciding how I might resurrect my career, or declaring my career’s over, or even questioning why I would make an indyindie 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.”
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. “They’ve practically eviscerated [WOW! What a B-I-G word! LOL] me. It’s not enough that my home is half-torched and that my bodyguard has second– degree[SKD: refer to Chicago Manual of Style section 7.90 for explanations of hyphenation of adjectives.] burns from protecting me, but now Nils has me practically framing him for the attack!”
“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 me for the press’s feeding frenzy on me?”
“I’m just saying that maybe you shouldn’t have given a statement right afterward. Especially one that implicateding [SKD: an “-ed” verb usually comes across with more power than “-ing”] your ex-husband.”
“I did no’t [SKD: more emphatic when not contracted.] 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. [SKD: gentle reminder—only one space, not two, following period.] [SMW: this is a good point – Just a note to the readers out there – the last thing to do before handing in your ms is to do a double space find/single space replace. I usually don’t do it until the very end, but it’s a good thing to remember.] You can’t expect his camp to sit on that without responding. And the Star’s [SKD: newspaper titles are set in italics. See CMS. 8.__] headline certainly didn’t help.”
MacKenzie cringed. MacKenzie Grace suspects ex-husband, Academy Award winner in attack.[SKD: Is this set in italics to denote internal thought? If so, let stand. If not, set in quotations.]
Yes, that was an unfortunate piece of newsprint.
“Okay, I can admit that I should have just ignored the flashbulbs and micsmikes – 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 [SKD: magazine title set in italics]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.”
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.
“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.
“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.
Three restraining orders, and finally a stint in prison – 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 himGreg.
“LA police picked him up yesterday. Unfortunately, he’s lawyered up, but they’re still holding him while they track down his alibi.” [SKD: who is speaking? If it’s Greg, I’d have the next sentence in another paragraph.]
Well, at least she wouldn’t have any more exploding elephants on her doorstep.
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 the elephant [SKD: I wondered at first if she was referring to the teacup.] 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 to the girl whoseher mama waveding good–bye from the front porch, and her whose daddy, hands thick with grease, standing stood in the door of the barn. Maybe a look backward to that girl — would help her remember who she should be today. [SKD: not sure I improved it, but the original version felt awkward and hard to follow.]
And help her decide Wwhether shethe girl she had become now 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.”
“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 indyie 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—”
“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.
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– ‘ol’d– boy persona from his demeanor, he still emitted a certain Ssouthern– boy charm that netted him the right tables, and handshakes from top-level studio execs. That Ssouthern charm had been exactly what made her trust him when she’d arrived in LA, her Eescort packed to the roof, his name scrawled on a strip of paper.
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 indyindie film?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Maybe. Hopefully. People need to know about the horror of human trafficking.
To know wWhat 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.[SKD: This action has come to often hint at/foreshadow news of pregnancy. Are you sure it’s her stomach she should press? Or her heart?] [SMW: interesting. I would have thought it suggested an upset stomach. Something to think about as we consider genres, audiences, etc!] No, she’d seen the truth in the empty eyes of twelve– year– old girls.[SKD: hyphenate age terms in both noun and adjective forms. See CMS 7.90] Her life wasn’t anything like the terror of victims of involved in 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.”
He wielded his inner gentleman now as he gave her a sad look. “Sweetheart, those kind of films pay your bills. And, right now, unless I’m mistaken, producing your iIndiey [SKD: not capped unless you’re referring to the abbreviation of Indianapolis.] film has sucked every morsel of cash from your account. You need a so-called “bimbo” [CMS 7.59] 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.”
She couldn’t help the harrumph that burped out at his words. “Then tell me why [SKD: missing word?]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.”
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.”
She stared out at the sky, the sun just a rim of light on the black horizon.
“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 and, 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.
“Where do you suggest I go?”
Greg finished his drink then, set perched 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.”
“Oh, you make it sound so romantic.”
“Could be. You never know. That wouldn’t hurt you either.”
MacKenzie shot him a bare [SKD: I’m not sure I know what a “bare” smile is?] [SMW: maybe a thin smile. J] 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., safeSafe., whichWhich 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 [SKD: word choice??? Did you mean sliver?] [SMW: LOL, no, I meant A SIMMER]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., letLet 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. Because at this point, you don’t have enough money to do both.”
Oh.
“Go home, [SKD: But he told her NOT to go home. He sent her to the Blue Ridge Mountains, not home to Mississippi Could you change to: back down South?]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.”