Novel Treatments / Sabbatical from life, take 1
Jillian:
“Damn those hills.”
If it wasn’t for those hills being so steep I could be a magnificent runner. I bet I could run 5 miles no problem. No, screw 5. I could do like, 15. And, that would be my easy day. I would wake up early, cook a hearty breakfast of wheaties and sprint through all 15 of those miles without so much as a heavy breath. Right now though, the part of my brain that controls movement in the legs has officially shut down and I’m sprawled out on my neighbor’s lawn reveling in the fact that the sprinklers are on.
“Don’t fret Jill, three blocks is a great improvement..” She stated while sipping her morning cocktail.
“Yeah, this place is just so godamn hilly. Why can’t we have normal terrain. Like, you know, San Francisco or something. If there weren’t so many hills here I’d be doing like 6 miles by now.” I didn’t want to let Mariella know that I could probably do 15. She’d only try and one up me.
“Yeah… well, I bet I could do 7.”
See, I told you.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you try it?”
“Huh? Oh, well I just swam 50 laps,” she proclaimed while stretching her furrowed old arms above her head. ”Besides,” she said placing her hands on her chest, “the more these things bounce around the lower they get. I’ve got to do as much as possible to fight the natural course of life.
Mariella is my favorite neighbor. She tells it just as it is. Except, of course, when she’s bantoring about her capabilities. Yeah right she can swim 50 laps and run 7 miles. The woman, in her 60s, mind you, never gets her wee self off of the lawn chair on her front porch.
“Say, You still planning on going whale watching with us?” she asked.
“Whale watching?”
“Yes, whale watching. It will be a good time. Mitchel promised to bring some single friends. And, you know his friends are all under 50.
“Lovely Mariella, however I kind of prefer my men to be within 2 years of my own age. 23 to 27.” I flashed her a whitty smile.
“Bullllll Shiiiit!” Mariella exclaimed. We both chuckled. I sat up, facing Mariella.
“How much longer do I have?”
“Oh sweety you’ve got about 10 more minutes.”
You see, I had convinced my roommates that I was off running the entire 45 minutes I was gone every morning. And you know what, the ding bats actually believed me! Most mornings were simply spent right here on this lush mini meadow. I always tried to make it there while the sprinklers were on. Of course my first goal was always to run as far as possible. But, by the time my heart would start racing I figured it was best for me to just relax. Besides, by the time I walked home I’d need to look like I had been sweating.
(I HAVE SOME DIALOGUE THAT IS SUPPOSED TO GO HERE WHRE MARIELLA ASKS JILLIAN WHAT SHE’S DOING TODAY AND THIS IS WHERE SHE MENTIONS THAT SHE’S GOING TO SEE HER PSYCHOLOGIST THAT DAY. I JUST HAVE IT SAVED ON MY COMPUTER AT HOME BUT IT FITS HERE
SO WHAT DO YOU HAVE PLANNED???!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11 Have an appointment with psychologist.)
..........................................
“So you’re gonna go for it?”
“I’m gonna go for it!”
“Alright, make sure you come and see me once it’s a success!” I flashed a smile crooked with insecurity and curtsied my way out the door. What have I done? I just made yet ANOTHER promise that I’m not so sure I can keep. You see it was my psychologist Dr. Bowman to whom I had just made that promise. He told me that since I had just been fired from yet another job for insubordination I just needed to suck it up and channel all the energy I had wasted on crying into making my lifelong dream come true.
“I’m going to start a successful business! I’m gonna start a business?” Saying it aloud invited insecurity.
You see, I’ve started businesses before; none of them successful. My very first venture was at the tender age of 5. It was a lemonade stand. Cliché right? Well mine was lemonade with a kick.
I didn’t know Scotch didn’t taste like butterscotch. But, I did know that everybody loved candy. Soo, adding some of that butterscotch flavor to my lemonade would have to taste delicious right?
I made my way to the cabinet where the liquor was kept. Looking back and forth to make sure no parent figures were around I poured half the bottle of Scotch into my pitcher. And guess what, it worked. Sales were through the roof. I sold about 50 cups the first day. About 15 of those sales were to the neighborhood kids. The rest were to Al, the grey haired wrinkly man who lived on the corner.
I didn’t realize he was an alcoholic until many years later. In those days I just assumed he had a really bad cough. I had never heard him cough, but he said he had a bad cough. I assumed his cough medicine simply kept the cough at bay, because he drank so much of it out of the pretty flask that he carried around. (SUGGESTSIONS ON HOW TO REWORK THIS SENTENCE PLEASE) He stumbled quite a bit and every word he said was slurred. I remember his wife popping her head out the front door to see what he was doing. “It’s jut lemonade dear.” Just then a pair of cops pulled over in their patrol car. I was so proud when I realized they had heard about my lovely lemonade and wanted to try a cup. I made sure to serve them extra large portions. “What the hell did you put in this lemonade kid.” “Butterscotch flavoring.” “That’s a little more than butterscotch.” And that was the end of the lemonade stand.
That was the first of many failed businesses. My pattern is to always get in trouble for the extras that I included with the services. I once started a massage parlor and since one down the street had just been shut down I invited all the practitioners to come work for me. And, bam, I had a full staff ready for work! 6 months later I was being shut down. Seems those experienced workers were a little too experienced if you know what I mean.
Anyway, I’m the queen of failure, but this time I was going to GET IT RIGHT!
I had already exited Dr. Bowman’s office when I turned myself around and went to the receptionist’s desk. “Can I see the yellow pages?” I asked. I closed my eyes flipped through, and on the count of 3 stuck my finger on what was to be my next big business idea. And this, turned out to be the pivotal moment of my entire existence.
…………………………………………………………………
Jade:
It all started with what used to be my boring little life in a boring little town. In Beasley there was nothing to do except for boring little things, and nobody to know except for boring people. Up until last year the most exciting thing to have happened in my little town was when Mrs. Hannover’s husband once caught her cheating and pulled out a gun to shoot the man she was cheating with, but shot himself in the crotch instead. Don’t ask me how you pull that one off.
Well, mom and I were out shopping when I was checking my fiance’s cell phone voicemail.I must have misheard that. I thought. I replayed the message. No, no, I know this isn’t right.
My body went numb and fell out from underneath me. This isn’t happening. “Oh no, this isn’t happening”, I said in shock.
Mother rushed over to me and placed her hands under my head. ”Jillian, Jillian what’s wrong?” I just sat there in utter disbelief. It felt as if my stomach was going to burst inside of me. I choked out a small sentence: “mama, I don’t think there’s going to be a wedding.”
...........
I woke up on the couch 4 hours later next to my 14 year old Shitzu. Oprah was on the television discussing favorite getaway destinations and crusted drool decorated my cheek. I wasn’t sure what to make of the day. I didn’t know if I had been dreaming.
I heard the doorbell ring which somehow snapped me back in to reality. The horrible message that was left on my fiance’s cell phone played itself in my head; The message from a man.
I heard mama’s voice from the other room. “I don’t think it’s such a good idea for you to be here right now Martin. You should leave before Jillian or her father notices that you’re here.” My mother’s voice was low and stern. I could just imagine her stare. Whenever her voice took that tone her eyes were fixed and cold with warning.
I stood up suddenly; my body numb from the sleeping pills I was sure Mama slipped me. I walked as quickly as my heavy legs would take me. I wanted to see him. I wanted to know if he really loved me. Did he still want to marry me? I would have married him anyway. I still loved him.
I made it to the foyer just as my mother had closed the door. ”Hello darling. You should be sleeping.”
“I heard his voice, mama. I know he was just here. Let me see him.”
”Let you see whom dear? You should be sleeping.” Mama grabbed my wrist and led me back to the couch. ”I’ll bring you some cocoa.”
”Mama I don’t want cocoa. I want to see Martin.” My mind felt like it was twisting around inside my head and I could keep my eyes open only enough to let in the slightest bit of light. When I reached the couch my body crinkled right down onto it.
I let my tingling eyes roll back as I thought over the events of the last few months. I thought about the moonlit proposal, the wild weekend we spent in San Francisco to celebrate, and the amazing engagement party stuffed full with all of the people Martin lived to impress: his mother, his biological father, and all his business associates. I thought about the night we told our parents we were getting married, and about what my heart felt like when I heard the voice of my fiance’s male lover.
I searched my memory bank for images of a man that was unusually close to Martin. Nobody came to mind. I entertained the idea that maybe that was a mistake for me to have refused to live with him until we got married. Maybe I could have kept a closer eye on him had I been there with him every night. I decided I needed to hear his voice.
“Hey Martin. I need to know… did you love me? Do you… do you still? I don’t know what’s happening Martin. This is all too much for me. Please call me back. Goodnight.”
That was the first of at least 100 messages I left on his voice mail over the next 10 days. He never called me back. That was, until, what was to be our wedding day.
………………………
I woke early that morning as if my internal clock had no sympathy for the fact that all I wanted to do was sleep the day away. I couldn’t blame it. It had been programmed for that date. I lay in my bed with my eyes fixed on the ceiling for a good two hours or more. The brightness of the rising sun eventually stung my eyes and forced me fully awake. I could hear hustling and bustling throughout the house and decided to investigate.
Walking down the stairs revealed 5 neatly stacked pink boxes from Pete’s bakery and an assortment of long stemmed perfectly white Calla Lilies and Wisteria. The house smelled of baked duck and a delicious vegetable concoction. I moved with a slow, weightless gate as if walking through liquid. My eyes began to tingle, and they swelled up with tears. Exploring further down the hall I saw pink roses and the little candied almonds that were to be passed out as favors at the reception. My heart suddenly became as heavy as a rock and fell right into my stomach, causing me to vomit without warning.
Grandma wheeled into the room. “She’s awake! Meghan, she’s awake and she’s puked all over the place!” I stood hunched over when mama came rushing into the hall. Grandma shook her head and wheeled out of the room as quickly as possible.
“Baby what are you doing up? It’s 6 in the morning. March right back upstairs and get in the bed. You’re not well.”
“Mama, it’s too late,” I said sobbing. “I’ve seen everything. Can’t we just stop pretending everything’s OK; it’s OK for me to sleep my days away with codeine, it’s ok that I go on living as if nothing’s happened, it’s OK for you to attempt to hide all of the food and the flowers and the cake. And you’re not doing a very good job of it I might add. It’s all so discreetly strewn about the house!”
“Come here,” mama said sweeping me into her arms. She led me out to the backyard. I glanced at the sky and dared it to rain. It was taunting with clouds that looked like they would soon burst. A wedding day with rain meant good luck. I may not have been getting married, but it was still my wedding day, and all I wanted was for something good to happen.
We sat down on the swing that hung from an old Oak tree that also provided cover for the fort my brother and I had created as kids along with our father and grandfather. “Honey there’s something I need to tell you,” mama said. I married the sexiest, studliest man around. He was so sweet at the beginning of our marriage. We danced every night and he held me so tight and made me feel like the only woman in the world.
“I already know daddy’s a good man, mama. Why are you telling me about how good things were for you on a day like this.”
“Im not talking about your father dear. I’m talking about Jonathon Pierce.”
“ The Jonathon Pierce? Of Pierce & Associates law firm.”
“ That’s him, the richest man in town. We were married for 2 years before I met your father.” I was shocked.
“How come you never told me about this before, mama?”
“Never felt the need. There’s something I want you to know. There was infidelity in that relationship.”
“Men are all dirty dogs aren’t they.”
“Well I was the dirty dog that time sweety.”
“What Mama, you cheated on him?”
“I never thought I would ever do something like that to any man. Your father didn’t know I was married. I met him on a night after Jonathon and I had a fight and I had thrown my wedding ring at him. I was out walking in the rain and your father offered me his umbrella… and the rest is history.”
“So you’re telling me I’m the daughter of a cheating mother and a dimwitted father?”
“I am telling you that sometimes things just happen.”
“You don’t just happen to become gay though mama.”
“Yes I know, sweety,” she said, “but sometimes your heart just wanders and it turns out better for the other person. Jonathon never would have gone to law school and become the man that he is today had we stayed together. He wouldn’t have been blessed with all that money. He’s got a great wife and family now. They’re the best thing for him. People get over things. They grow and move on and have wonderful lives. I expect nothing less than that for you.”
We heard the phone ring and grandma stuck her lips up against the screen door. “Meghan, there’s a phone call,” she said. I could tell from her tone that it was Martin.
“You ready to talk to him baby,” mama asked.
“I am,” I said. She retrieved the cordless for me and I took it into the fort. “H- hello,” I managed.
“Princess?” Martin’s voice was apologetic.
“Hello Martin.”
“Look, I want you to know that I really am sorry.”
“Look it’s OK Martin. I still love you. We can still get married. Please come today. We’ve got all the food and all the flowers here. Everything’s here.”
“I can’t come Jillian. I’m leaving for California in the morning.” I dropped my head.
“Martin,” I whispered, “please don’t do this to me. I love you, I can look past this.”
“I can’t look past it Jillian,” he said. “I have to go.”
After he hung up on me I sat sobbing in the fort for at least an hour. Mama came out to get me after she figured I’d cried enough. “How’d you like to go for a quick walk,” she asked. I obliged. To get to the outside world from the backyard we had to maneuver our way through the fort. Building that had been quite a feat. We had booby trapped it quite well. Of course I knew of its every crack and crevice, but Mama still had a hard time getting through it. I ducked as we passed under the Passage of Thorns and stepped just perfectly around Holes to Haides.
“When we were kids, mama, mean old Mr. Johnson would come chasing after Benny and I after we’d been playing on his lawn and we’d run right into the fort thinking its magical powers would stop him from getting through.”
“Oh is that so?” Mama said, pretending not to know. The truth is that Mama knew everything. She wanted us to think she didn’t know anything about our wild ways. But we knew that while some moms only had eyes on the backs of their heads, our mama had hers on some giant satellite that watched over us from the sky.
“We were so silly. But you know, he never did make it through. I wish I had this fort around when I met good ol’ Martin McNeery.” Mama sighed and placed her arm around me. “I just wish mama, that I had been smarter.”
“Sometimes, baby, the smartest thing for us to do is just follow our heart,” she said.
Mama held me close as we walked down the street and underneath the maples that stuck their necks out far over our heads to protect us from that ominous sky. I found its darkness to be beautiful ..........................
“So, I think I need to get away.” I said, shifting my weight between my legs nervously. I need some time for Jillian. I want to see things I’ve never seen before, do things I’ve never done before -”
“Sleep with men you’ve never slept with before.”
“Grandma!” The whole family chimed.
“What? It’s not like you weren’t all thinking it. Besides, she’s got that strong Brocket blood. We Brocket women are like chinchillas in heat!”
“So as I was saying, I’m just going. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone or what I’ll do, but I’m just going.”
“Can I get her room?” Grandma belted out.
“Grandma!,” chimed the family once more.
“What, she’s got the biggest room in the house with a big bay window and the private bath. I could fit my whole poker group in that room!”
My father looked up from the floor. “Baby, we all want you to do whatever you think is best.”
“Today was supposed to have been the greatest day of my life. And, you know what?” I said as a single tear careened down my cheek. “It was. Today was the day that I realized that my family and friends love me so much more than any old stinkin, sinning, cheating, man loving – man ever could.
My mother grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly. “Baby, we do love you,” she said. I smiled.
I walked over to my grandma and kissed her cheek. “Gotta love ya grams,” I said. The rest of my family got up and all hugged me solemnly as I wept for the marriage, wedding, and honeymoon, that I deserved, and should have had.
………………………………………………………………………………………………
“Make the next one a double,” I demanded. I tilted my head back, let the liquid summersault down my throat, slammed my shot glass on the table, and ran the back of my hand against the corner of my mouth. This is the best place I could be right now, I thought. Sitting her at Mac’s Bar and Bar all by Myself. Of course I wasn’t drinking anything more than caffeine free sprite, but the thrill of slamming a shot down my throat was enough to help take my mind off of what had just occurred.
Next to my drink lay a copy of the San Diego Union Tribune, the New York Times, and the Bangkok Weekly. I needed to figure out where I was going and fast. The longer I spent in Beasley, the more I’d stew in my situation.
“Mac’s Bar and Bar,” I chuckled aloud. Mac had thought of that name himself. He’d wanted to make sure nobody was confused about what was to be done inside of what he affectionately called his “not so classy joint.” Of course, nobody that walked through the doors could mistake the low lighting, and putrid stench for anything remotely related to class. Where else could a girl go and get asked by an alcoholic bum to borrow five bucks while she’s pulling cash out of the ATM?
After a few hours of being stared at by old men with drinking problems, Mac came in. He saw me sitting in the corner booth and sat down with me. “How’s it goin’ Jill?”
Mac was such a good listener. He listened with his whole heart and even though he was always half drunk, his advice was better than anybody’s. “Not so good Mac.” He looked at his folded wrinkling hands and appeared to be thinking hard for a moment. The corners of his eyes turned down.
“The wedding was supposed to be this weekend huh,” he asked.
“Yep, it was supposed to be this weekend,” I replied.
“Selfish Jerk. You know all men are Jill. Except for that one that will truly be yours forever. And, you’ll know he’s the one when you see that he’s not selfish around you. He’ll be a gentleman. He’ll open your doors, make you dinners, spend time doing what you want to do, and he’ll hold you close. He’ll hold you so close you’ll think he’s insane. But he’s not insane, Jill. He’s in love.”
With half a smile and half a frown I asked, “you think he’s out there?”
“He’s out there.” I gave Mac my best big girl smile and he patted me on the head.
“Mac, you sure do know how to make a girl feel better.”
“It’s not me hunny, it’s the alcohol.”
“But I’m not drinking Mac.”
“No, but I am,” he chuckled. He stood up and motioned for me to do the same. While flashing a smile he shooed me out of the bar, saying, “you’ll never meet anybody but drunks in here. Now get out.” His positivism was exactly what I needed at that moment. It helped me strengthen my resolve to get over the horrible events of the past month. I flashed him my best big girl smile and while he was still shooeing me I put my arms around his pudgy shoulders and gripped him tight. “Thanks Mac.”
By the time I left rush hour was just about to cram the streets. I imagined myself speeding home from my children’s soccer practice instead of work. I’d have cooked a pot roast with yummy potatoes and veggies and some rich delectable desert. The house would be spotless, and the babies would be fat and happy. My husband would walk in and be so thrilled to see me he’d kiss me for a whole five minutes. We’d laugh like crazy as we played duck duck goose with our five year old, and he’d wrap his arms around me as we stood in the doorways of our sleeping children admiring the family we’d built together. A honking horn from a car that had been cut off snapped me back into reality. I looked down at my bare ring finger and remembered that my house was empty. Not wanting to endure another frozen dinner and late night session with Nick at Night, I decided a trip to Sunset Cliffs was in order.
The cliffs were always alive with the buzz of nature. No matter what mood one was in they were always comforting and relaxing. I had decided to bring the quilt grandma had made me on my 21st birthday. The thing was pretty well worn, but it represented the good ol days back before grandma got wild and joined a biker gang. Grandpa died the summer of my 23rd year and Grandma kind of went crazy reinventing herself, eventually landing on just plain old and nutty like the funny grandmas you see in film noir. She then moved in with mom and dad who make sure she doesn’t get herself in too much trouble.
The mist from the water slamming up against the cliffs brushed my face, and I enjoyed the fact that I could just sit up there anonymously and let the sunset be my sole companion. I pulled out my trusty newspapers and proceeded to peruse the classifieds. I needed a completely fresh start. I needed something to make my life that much more exciting.
[HERE’S WHERE SHE READS THE CLASSIFIEDS. I HAVEN’T WRITEN THEM YET SO JUST PRETEND THE FOLLOWING ARE THE CLASSIFIEDS]
Wanted: Experienced waitress.
Wanted: Exotic Dancers
Wanted: Typists
Wanted: Undercover Agent
Jillian:
Chapter Two: Getting started on getting it right, this time
I had a great idea, some good contacts, and I was only 75% afraid of failure. Now it was time to assemble my team.
Miranda was not a clever girl. She was ust plain stupid in fact. But, she was gorgeous, charming, seductive, and sweet. Just the kind of team member I would need. I watched her for about 20 minutes while she attempted to Parallel Park in front of the restaurant. It was really quite amusing. The spot she was getting into was about 30 feet long and she still managed to bump the Mercedes in front of her and the Dodge in back, as well as produce a nice long scrape along the side of the Mercedes. When she was satisfied with her handiwork, she hopped out of her car with paper and pen in hand, and stuck a note on the car with the new decorative scrape.
Her long legs sauntered up to the table and we gave each other our customary cheek kiss. “So we’re gonna be in business huh?” She gushed in her California Valley Girl style accent. “That’s right.” “Ooo, that’s so exciting.” “And you, are going to be an integral part of the team. I have one more person in mind, but I’m not so sure how she’ll work out just yet.” “Well who is it?” “You know Melanie Campbell.” “You mean the big girl with the butch hair? I think she’s like a nice girl and all, but she’s like not so clever. Besides, do you really want to work with a lesbian?” “She’s not a lesbian. She’s just a big girl with a bad haircut and very very bad sense of fashion.” I said shaking my head. “Very bad.” Well anyway, she’s got what we need to make it work. I’ve also placed an ad in the local paper.
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I can see how some of it is mixed together, I’m beginning to have a hard time reading it. I always thought it I were to put something online it ought to be more complete but from the prompt it seems like you need more direction in where you’re going with this?
Well I like the tone, atleast in the beginning.
The suggestion on the flash sentence, I like the line, but first why should the reader care? If you feel it’s important to keep in the story then rewrite something about it. Did it always gleam in the light? Did it have some funny symbols on it or did it reminds you of the cowboys in them movies? Something about that flask is so important to the memory but why?
The whole thing about the cellphone, it’s different. It went from story telling to being in the story and that didn’t flow right. It seems a lot of sentences are too long and too wordy. For instance; ” I woke early that morning as if my internal clock had no sympathy for the fact that all I wanted to do was sleep the day away.” I read that aloud and I was exhaused! Reading is worse! I’m been taught to read it outloud, if it sounds funny read aloud change it. Shorten it. I like some of the feeling descriptions which i’m a fan of just keep it constant. You’ve got an knack for it. Also the line “My heart suddenly became as heavy as a rock.” I would change the line something to ” my heard suddenly fell to my stomach as if it was a rock.”
This is a tuff thing to suss out!!
The speed in which the story flows is a bit fast. I don’t think it needs to be slowed down to much but a few extra sentences to correspond with the actions or something that was explained.
Also i want to sympathize with Jillian so mad but there is something about her that seems out of place. I want to know her more. I want to know more about the would have been wedding. Was she really ready? Marriage is huge.
So where is Jillian going with this?
- add/view comments (0)
When I read your note, I though ‘Oh crap, another author too lazy to get it together before they post, but there was something entirely refreshing about this piece. Trust me, I was in a bad mood when I sat down to review this and thought, ‘Well I can always back out if I get too nasty.’ But it’s charming. I don’t know where you’re ultimately going with this – the exotic dancer and udercover agent are tremendous prospects, but just what I’ve read has a wonderful voice, good charaters (but, see notes on Mac), nice plot advancement, and you managed to keep my interest. Very nicely done.
All the very best,
Dave
From your notes “so if you see that Jade is referred to as Jillian just ignore it”. Since both are purportedly in the story, how exactly will we know when you do that.
“I assumed his cough medicine simply kept the cough at bay, because he drank so much of it out of the pretty flask that he carried around.” -vs. “I assumed he drank cough medicine from that pretty flask he carried. He didn’t talk like us. He slurred his words and stumbled when he walked, but what did I know.
““Butterscotch flavoring.” “That’s a little more than butterscotch.” You could delete this.
“My pattern is to always get in trouble for the extras that I included with the services.” vs. My downfall was that I always included little extras for my services that always got me into trouble.
“Seems those experienced workers were a little too experienced if you know what I mean.” delete this because it’s obvious from the text. Maybe include with the last sentence , and I was arrested for pandering.
“GET IT RIGHT!” Only children capitalize, and, while you’re at it, lose the exclamation mark.
“boring people” it’s juvenile to repeat, but in this instance I’d repeat “little” before people in this sentence because it’s consistant with Jade’s character. Nice.
“husband once caught” delete once
“instead. Don’t ask me how you pull that one off.” suggest during all the excitement. Delete the “Don’t ask me how” bit at the end.
I’m down to “I woke early that morning” and I still don’t know what the message says. It’s getting boring – gee what could it be a voicemail from another girl/woman. You’re probably better the highlight the message in the text. That way at least the reader will have some empathy for the girl. Righ now it’s not a mystery. Later on I see it’s a profession of love from a guy. Don;t waste a dramatic moment. So much more is possible with this scene. The reason “Desperate Housewives”, “All My Children”, and “General Hospital” are so popular and have lasted so long is that people – mostly women (sexist I know, but check the demographics)- can’t get enough drama.
I hate to ccopy so much but this is a pretty important sequence and different the punctuation can add to it; “Can’t we just stop pretending…it’s okay for me to sleep the day away…it’s okay that I go on living…it’s not okay that you go on pretending nothing’s happened…or for you for you to attempt to hide all of the food and the flowers and the cake…you’re not doing a good job of it anyway.”
“I never thought I would ever do” I thought you rushed this bit a tad. Don;t get me wrong its good, but she kind of blurts it out you need to preface it with something like I thought long and hard about this before I decide to tell you this or some other more involved mother/daughter exchange. This is the high point of the drama in the story so don;t waste it. Milk it for all it’s worth.
“chinchillas in heat!” Nice grandma’s cool, but lose the !.
“careened” implies it bounced off things like noses perhaps ears and the like. Use something else.
I like this it’s petulant up the ante a little her by “honeymoon. All the things I deserved, and should have had.”
“summersault down my throat” perhaps slid or burned but not sumersault and definately not backflipped.
“Bar and Bar” suggest you let people in on the joke the first time it is mentioned.
“Selfish Jerk. You know all men are Jill. Except… Several suggestions here. “Selfish Jerk,” Mac said. “All men are, Jill… you also need to rewrite this so its more from an older males POV rather than Jill’s or a gay man’s.
“patted me on the head” this is condescending and quite literally means that Mac didn’t take her or her troubles seriously. Mac appears to be an asshole.
“big girl” is over used it also brings up the question of why she is so subservient to this at best nieghborhood barkeep.
“the funny grandmas you see in film noir” This is a dishionest comparison. Use something else that is concrete and accurately reflects what you’re talking about.
“herself in too much” vs. herself into too much
“water slamming up” mist does not slam.
“and proceeded to peruse the classifieds” I do this all the time, too. and perused the classified.
I’m not sure you have to expand on the content of the classified. I wouldn;t do it unless there is something interesting and special you want to convey through them.
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