Saturday Guest Blogger: Jill Monroe!
Many of you here in the romancelandia blogosphere know author Jill Monroe as Blaze author extra-ordinaire, wickedly clever friend of Gena Showalter, appreciator of Monday Beefcake and thief of gnomes. I’m lucky to also know Jill as a fabulously funny writer who’s one of the coolest people I’ve met. I’m thrilled to have her as a Saturday guest blogger today at Plotmonkeys…especially with a topic that all writers grapple with. Welcome, Jill!———————————————-
Show, Don’t Tell…Except When You Don’t
You’ll hear it often, and as a writer, they’re words to live by: Show Don’t Tell. When I was unpublished, I used to enter a lot of chapter writing contests, and would often find “Show Don’t Tell” written in the margins (often with bright red pen and many exclamation marks!!!).
In fact, Wikipedia has devoted an entire entry to Show Don’t Tell, defining SDT as allowing “the reader to experience the story through a character’s action, words, thoughts, senses, and feelings rather than through the narrator’s exposition, summarization, and description.”
However, I think that great admonition is missing something. Show Don’t Tell - But Don’t Give Away The Farm!
Now I’m in a position to judge some of those very same chapter writing contests I used to enter, and I think the advice has really absorbed and resulted in some fabulous writing. But with all good things there’s usually a flip-side - now people are showing too much. There’s absolutely great description, as a reader my senses are thoroughly engaged but it goes on and on for paragraphs. Sometimes pages.
I found Elmore Leonard’s 10 Rules Of Writing (by way of HelenKay Dimon) and rule #10 is this: “Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.”
I laughed out loud when I read this. Sounds so simple, but in actuality can be so difficult. However, I can tell you with some certainty, showing too much is what readers want to skip. I’ll take an example from my own work (primarily because I have it already typed up and I’m all about easy). This is from Primal Instincts, out February 2008 from Harlequin Blaze. The scene opens with him trying to find a place to park:
A few blocks ahead, he finally spotted a flashing parking garage sign, missing several red and yellow bulbs. After another five minutes in the busy one-way traffic of downtown Oklahoma City, he pulled under the awning.
The attendant tugged the earbuds from her ear as he approached.
“Five dollars.”
He fished in his pocket for the bills, glad he’d converted all his Euros into dollars before boarding the 747 that deposited him on the plains of Oklahoma.
The attendant handed him an orange ticket. “Put that in your window,” she said as she returned the buds back into her ears and jammed out to whatever twentysomethings in Oklahoma listened to.
After searching for a spot on the first level, not finding anything on the second, Ian finally scored on the third floor. Ian carefully parked his rental, placed the orange ticket on the dash as instructed, then he fished out the map he’d printed off of google while still in Manhattan. Ian sighed. Two blocks.
The Oklahoma sun beat down on his neck as he lunged between the businessmen and women talking on their phone during their lunch break and grabbing a bite to eat. Hopping place.
Ian glanced once more at the paper in his hand, and the address on the large red-bricked building that looked nothing more than an abandoned warehouse. They matched, this must be the place. He hiked up the steps that led to the intercom system. This had recently had some attention. Still old, but scrubbed clean. He pressed the black button under the only name on the list. Simms.
“Hello,” came a female voice. Sultry and pleasant.
“I’m looking for Ava Simms.”
“You found her. Had lots of workers today. Top floor.”
The buzz announced she’d allowed him entrance, and he picked up his camera, mini-recorder and laptop and walked toward the elevator.
Okay, I could go on and on (and obviously I have), but why would you want to read that?
But what’s the problem? I’m showing, not telling. It’s not bad writing (at least I hope it’s not)…the problem is that I’m showing way too much. It’s not anything to the story. In fact, it’s probably even encouraging people to skip to the dialogue. But what I’ve given there is just conversation, and once again not even interesting conversation at that. Most everyone has parked in a garage. Most everyone knows to display their stub, etc. Sure you want to touch on those universal experiences that tie your reader into your character, but not at the expense of being entertaining.
When looking at any scene, ask yourself these questions:
1. Does this move the story forward?
2. Does this slow the action down?
3. Can this be cut and the meaning still be the same?
This is what that scene became - one paragraph that (hopefully) engages the reader:
Finally he just parked in the red brick garage he’d found, paid his five bucks and hiked the few blocks to her warehouse loft apartment. All while lugging his camera, mini-recorder and laptop. He looked down at the paper in his hand confirming her address. Top floor, of course. She buzzed him in, and he headed for the elevator. He hated elevators. Every family member he had insisted on living on the top floor. He’d rather be chased to the border than be trapped in a metal box suspended by a string.
Sometimes, it’s hardest to find this in your own work, especially when you’re struggling to get those words on the page in the first place, or you might really like that whole earbud scene because that is SO your 16 year-old nephew! But now’s the time to be ruthless, merciless and brutal. Harden your heart, and be ready to cut. If you like something, create a new file just for cut scenes (I do that) you might find a place for that later in the book or in a completely new book.
Since it’s hardest to find the “giving away of the farm” in your own writing, one exercise you can try is to add to a scene of someone else’s. See how the writer kept the story moving forward by YOU slowing it down.
I’ll use a paragraph from Julie Leto’s upcoming book, Phantom Pleasures, out in April 2008. By the way, I chose Julie because she asked me to join you all on Plot Monkeys (and no good deed goes unpunished) and I just don’t get the feeling that Julie gets messed with enough by her friends (see this post on the PlotMonkeys a few weeks ago)
Phantom Pleasures by Julie Leto
Alexa Chandler closed her eyes. The stone against her back, so cold only moments before, suddenly warmed. The heat eased through the thin layer of her clothes and ignited her skin. She could feel the green-gray eyes of the man in the portrait staring down at her. Into her.
Giving Away The Farm of Phantom Pleasures NOT by Julie Leto
Alexandra “Alexa” Chandler closed her eyes. She smiled as she thought of the woman who’d been her namesake. The severe lady scared her with those sharp “you-can’t-hide-a-thing-from-me” looks, but also cultivated her granddaughter’s strong will. A will that gave her the strength to fight her way to the top of her profession - hotel development. Her business card might say Alexandra, but standing in the lower level of her most recent find, she was all Alexa, creative and ready to envision what this property could become.
She leaned against the stone, so cold only moments ago, already warming from her body heat. The heat eased through the thin layer of her pale blue silk shirt, and ignited her skin. Once clammy now she felt red-hot.
“Hey,” said a voice behind her.
She turned to see her brother. “Hi yourself.”
“What are you looking at?” he asked.
She raised her hand, her nails displaying her neat french manicure, “That painting,” she said. Her voice trailing away.
Alexa could feel his eyes, same color as the green-gray of the sea on a stormy, she felt the eyes of the man in the portrait staring down at her. Into her.
*********
I don’t even know if Alexa had a grandmother in the picture or even if Alexa is short for anything, but you can see how showing unnecessary dialogue, unneeded description, and information that could be sprinkled in elsewhere in the story detracts from what Julie has written. That first paragraph was excellent as Julie had it - and really drew the reader into the story right off the bat.
Okay, so do you want to join in the exercise? It’s actually kind of fun. Since Julie was such a good sport I should only be the same. Here is the opening paragraph of my November 2007 Blaze, Tall, Dark and Filthy Rich. Your challenge is to make it give away the farm. I’ll select two winners - one will be random and one will be the “worst” entry. The prize will be one book from my backlist or Primal Instincts when it becomes available. If you live out of the country, and are the winner, a suitable gift certificate will take the book’s place.
Here you go - work it!
Tall, Dark and Filthy Rich, by Jill Monroe
“Ever think maybe you’re in the wrong line of work?” Dana, the reporter from the Atlanta Daily News, asked in a bored tone as she flipped a Skittle into her mouth.
“No. Why?” Jessica Huell shrugged. So much for the great article the reporter planned to write about Atlanta’s Most Interesting Professionals. Clearly, Jessie’s execution of her current job was proving to be a dud, and she’d really hoped the exposure from the proffered feature in the newspaper would swing a little more business her way.
Movement caught her eye. “Wait, get down,” Jessie said, as she pushed Dana’s head below the dashboard.
Comment by Tammy G. — November 24, 2007 @ 7:30 am
[...] Original post by Plot Monkeys [...]
Pingback by Saturday Guest Blogger: Jill Monroe! · Gift Card News and Deals — November 24, 2007 @ 7:44 am
WELCOME to the Jungle, Jill! And :happythanks: Hope your weekend/holiday is wonderful.
GREAT Writing advice! Thanks for reminding us! I tend to write too little not too much but it’s still something I always think about - show don’t tell - and does this scene add to the story.
Another question you can ask: If I cut this scene/information would the story go on and the reader not miss a beat?
Comment by Carly — November 24, 2007 @ 9:01 am
Great information! Thank you for being here and sharing. I just took a “show don’t tell” online course and it was sooooo hard. I felt like I was back in college again but I learned tons and tons. It was more along the lines of showing feelings/thoughts, but I asked the question, “Can’t you have too much?” Well, of course you can. And as punishment for me asking such a question
we had an exercise similar to this one. But again, I learned a lot writing that exercise. I’ll be back later with my rewritten overly done piece…..and thanks again for being here!!
Comment by Jodie — November 24, 2007 @ 9:29 am
I love this! Fabulous advice. Sometimes I tend to go on and on, and others I tend to, well, rush through with too little information. Wouldn’t hurt me to sit back and really think about whether or not it adds to the story (or whether or not I need to add a little more). Great advice here!
Comment by gena showalter — November 24, 2007 @ 9:37 am
Great blog, Jill! And just for the record…no, Alexa is not short for anything and while I’m sure my heroine had a grandmother at some point (two, actually) I have no idea who they are or if they had any influence in her life.
This is one of the reasons why I don’t do those detailed character sketch/resume thingies. If I *know* the information, I’m more likely to dump it on the reader. Therefore, I only know what the reader needs to know…and I make that up as I go along.
Comment by Julie Leto — November 24, 2007 @ 9:47 am
Hi Ms. Monroe, welcome to the jungle…thanks for hanging out with us today…morning jungle friends and
.
Ms. Monroe, your lesson was very intriguing…actually it is really cool to see how you cut out that excess dialogue to make the paragraph scene more poignant…all that extra stuff not necessary…if I came across such a scene in a book, I would finish the book, but never read the author again…
I love the SDT policy, but your addition to the “edict” is much better…It was ironic that you chose a paragrah from your book in the millionaire series…I actually have it, but I haven’t read it yet…I need to get the first book in the series before I can start reading it all…I will…your exercise might cause me to break my rule though…it would be a big deal psychologically because it is very difficult for me to read a series without first having all the books…
I like the contest you suggested and it would be interesting to “see” the entries…I won’t be doing it, but good luck to all those who try…I am not much of a writer when it comes to romances…
Will you be posting the winning entries as well or just the names of the people who won?
It was great talking to you…Have a wonderful time with us today…maybe I will get a chance to talk to you later…
Peace and love,
Paula R.
Comment by Paula R. — November 24, 2007 @ 9:53 am
Gena - a funny story (well, it’s funny to me you might be mortified!), you were the cause of me being in a cyber cat fight!
It wasn’t quite that bad, and if you stop by here on Sat. you might already know this. But I belong to an online chapter of RWA and we can post our wip under a critique section and let the others have at us.
Well….one person took great exception to my hero saying, “her eyes were cold and calculating, not green and smokey like they’d been the first time they met.” She said a guy would never notice those things. So I broke out Nymph King (one of my all-time favorite books) and posted Valerian’s “description” of Shaye when he first saw her. I told her that if a warrior like Valerian could notice an “angelic face”, and a “daintily sloped nose” then my guy could notice smokey eyes. Hmmm…it’s a funny thing, I don’t think she’s critiqued any of my stuff since then.
Thanks for the back-up!
PS - I hope you’ve recovered from your strep throat….
Comment by Jodie — November 24, 2007 @ 10:37 am
Okay - here’s my stab at over-doing…
“Ever think maybe you’re in the wrong line of work?” Dana, the senior, and much more experienced reporter from the Atlanta Daily News, asked in a bored tone as she flipped first a green and then a purple Skittle into her mouth.
“No. Why?” Jessica Huell shrugged. So much for the great article the reporter planned to write about Atlanta’s Most Interesting Professionals. Clearly, Jessie’s execution of her current job was proving to be a dud, and she’d really hoped the exposure from the proffered feature in the newspaper would swing a little more business her way .The rent was due in five days, the electric and phone bills were already past due and she just had to get those Jimmy Choo shoes and matching handbag before her date with Max on Saturday night. Of course, she knew shoes didn’t make the person, but they sure did make the person feel better. She sighed. Especially when things weren’t going so great for said person.
Movement caught her eye. Yes! This was it. Finally, all the research of the past three months was about to pay off. “Wait, get down,” Jessie said, as she pushed Dana’s head below the dashboard.
Maybe I’ll get lucky and all the regular Sat. bloggers will be shopping and I’ll win by default…
Comment by Jodie — November 24, 2007 @ 10:42 am
FYI–commenters…because some of the comments are a bit long, they might get caught in moderation. If you post, just wait a bit. I’ll try and check often so I can “release” them to post. It’s not a problem…just our spam filter being overly sensitive!
Comment by Julie Leto — November 24, 2007 @ 10:52 am
Hi Jill! Welcome! We are so glad you’re here today, and your topic is terrific. I tend to give away the farm when first writing, which really fills those pages up. Then, when I’m near the end and I realize this book is so long Brenda is going to beat me over the head with it, that’s the first place I go back to cut.
Comment by Leslie — November 24, 2007 @ 11:37 am
Hi Jill! Thanks for spending your Saturday with us here in the jungle! Show not tell is usually the feedback I receive, but I’m working on it! Here’s my overdone version:
“Ever think maybe you’re in the wrong line of work?” Dana, the reporter from the Atlanta Daily News, asked in a bored tone as she flipped a Skittle into her mouth. It wasn’t the first time today that Dana wondered how she got stuck with little Miss Lois Lane, but she was going to make sure that Bill the prick editor paid for this. I mean really sitting in a beat up Honda Accord for five hours, with no air conditioning, baby-sitting this wet behind the ears reporter, was so not how she wanted to spend her Saturday night!
“No. Why?” Jessica Huell shrugged. So much for the great article the reporter planned to write about Atlanta’s Most Interesting Professionals. After all, didn’t the public have the right to know just what the elected officials were really spending tax dollars on? Clearly, Jessie’s execution of her current job was proving to be a dud, and she’d really hoped the exposure from the proffered feature in the newspaper would swing a little more business her way. God knew she was done doing all the grunt work, she paid her dues. No more Melville the super pig stories for her. And God why did it have to be so friggin hot in Atlanta? She wondered as she pulled her long blonde hair up into a ponytail.
Movement caught her eye. Oh, thank God in heaven, because if she had to spend another minute trapped in this car with Dana the skittle popping bitch, she just might have to slap her. What self respecting adult ate skittles anyway? “Wait, get down,” Jessie said, as she pushed Dana’s head below the dashboard.
Comment by Tina Martinesi — November 24, 2007 @ 11:41 am
Welcome to the jungle, Ms. Monroe,
Thanks for the great advice. It’s great to be reminded about Show don’t Tell. In my first draft I’m like the Energizer bunny then I go back and trim, cut, paste et cetera.
Have a wonderful day all and hello Plotmonkeys and Everyone.
Cher
Comment by Cher — November 24, 2007 @ 11:58 am
Welcome to the jungle, Jill! You know you’re one of my most favorite people!
I’m very guilty of showing WAY too much — that’s why I have Carly to rein me in when I go on and on and on . . .
I hope everyone is having a fun weekend and working off all those extra Thanksgiving calories by power shopping! :santahat:
Comment by Janelle — November 24, 2007 @ 1:08 pm
I am not excellent with english… my 3rd language… and I am not sure I understand the exercice. To re-write an opening? I am not sure why! I am really clueless!
Comment by Nathalie — November 24, 2007 @ 1:50 pm
Hi Jill~ Thanks for being here and giving such great information. I’m finding it is hard to find just the right balance of showing and telling. Especially when you’re trying to reach a certain word count.
Here’s my try at giving away the farm. I think I read it a little differently than Jodie and Tina.
“Ever think maybe you’re in the wrong line of work?” Dana, the reporter from the Atlanta Daily News, asked in a bored tone as she flipped Skittle after Skittle into her mouth, taking care to chew the requisite ten chomps her mother probably taught her so she wouldn’t choke on her food.
“No. Why?” Jessica Huell shrugged. So much for the great article the reporter planned to write about Atlanta’s Most Interesting Professionals. Clearly, Jessie’s execution of her current job was proving to be a dud, and she’d really hoped the exposure from the proffered feature in the newspaper would swing a little more business her way. She should have known by the way her day had gone that tonight would be like this. Her eleven o’clock never showed. The lunch time crowd at her favorite dive made her late for her one o’clock. Mr. three o’clock took one look at her and laughed. Laughed. How the hell did he know what she was capable of? Truth be told, that had been the story of her life as of late. Tonight was supposed to change all that. Tonight was going to break the cycle of mediocre recognition when Ms. Skittle witnessed the thrill of the chase, the heart racing pressure of staying in the shadows. Crap. They may as well be lying on the hood of the car instead of sulking inside it. Maybe she was in the wrong line of work.
Movement caught her eye. “Wait, get down,” Jessie said, as she pushed Dana’s head below the dashboard. The night wasn’t going to be a loss after all. There was still hope. Her career choice wasn’t going to make her mother ‘die an early death.’ She was going to make mom proud with a newspaper article to end all stories. That is, if the conk she’d just inflicted on Dana’s forehead didn’t affect the reporter’s slant. Could this be her “Groundhog Day,” she wondered. She’d even take a “Freaky Friday.” Wouldn’t her mother just love that!
Comment by Robin — November 24, 2007 @ 3:02 pm
Robin - all I can say is
Comment by Jodie — November 24, 2007 @ 3:07 pm
Thanks for having me Carly, Leslie, Julie and Trish. A big thanks to Julie for working with getting me here. Trivia - my first book has a dedication to one of the Plot Monkey!
Glad this article was helpful - and I’m loving some of these entries!
Comment by Jill Monroe — November 24, 2007 @ 4:38 pm
Jodie, I’m so glad I could help!
And Julie, how come there’s no picture of *me* in this entry?
Comment by gena showalter — November 24, 2007 @ 5:10 pm
What the hell was I thinking???
Comment by Julie Leto — November 24, 2007 @ 5:14 pm
Aww, thanks Jodie! I really appreciate that.
LOL Julie! Gina, that’s a great picture!
Comment by Robin — November 24, 2007 @ 5:28 pm
I wanted to play along:
“Ever think maybe you’re in the wrong line of work? And by wrong line of work I mean are you happy with what you’re not doing in life or are you happy with what you are doing or do you wish you were doing something else that would make you happy?” Dana, the reporter from the Atlanta Daily News – the top newspaper in the state, if not the world, if not the universe — asked in a slightly bored definitively uninterested tone as she flipped a red, yellow and green Skittle into her (gorgeous) mouth. Damn, but those Skittles tasted good. Almost like heaven in hard round shells. For the first time in her life, she truly felt like she’d tasted the rainbow.
“No. And by no I mean that I’m pretty sure bordering on positive that I didn’t not pick the wrong line of work but rather probably did pick the right line of work. Relatively speaking. Why?” Jessica Huell shrugged her delicate shoulders and pondered everything that had happened that day. And a lot had happened. From waking up with a strange man in her bed (yum!) to finding out she’d inherited her BFF’s dog (yuck!). But none of that had any bearing on the moment at hand, so she struggled to bring her crazy mind in line with what she should be considering. Namely: so much for the great article the reporter planned to write about Atlanta’s Most Interesting Professionals. And by “great” she knew that now meant “horrible”. Someone was going to be trashed and it was someone whose name started with a J and ended with an E. (That name was Jessie. Her name.) Clearly, Jessie’s execution of her current job was proving to be a very real, very uninteresting dud. Didn’t that just suck! But it wasn’t her fault. Waking up with a sexy, naked man had been very distracting. Cleaning dog pee had been trying. Anyway, she’d really hoped the exposure from the proffered feature in the newspaper would swing a little – okay, a lot — more business her way so she could do more jobs like this one. Well, jobs that weren’t such uninteresting duds. Jobs with passion and adventure. Maybe pirates.
Movement caught her eye, and excitement slammed through her from head to toe. Toes that were currently curled up and hurting due to the very expensive hooker heels she’d purchased yesterday. The heels hadn’t come in her size so she’d had to buy a size down. But they’d been so pretty, with red and black bows all over them that she’d had to own a pair or kill herself. Clearly, she’d chosen to own a pair. Because she was currently alive. “Wait, get down,” Jessie said in a gushing rush, as she pushed Dana’s soft blonde head below the hard, black dashboard.
Comment by gena showalter — November 24, 2007 @ 5:32 pm
Julie,
Now that’s what I’m talking about! If only I’d been caught with my pants down, we could stir up a little trouble. . . Next time for sure!!
Comment by gena showalter — November 24, 2007 @ 5:33 pm
Gena - huh?
I have to admit I laughed through your rendition but I’m afraid I didn’t follow.
you guys are too much fun! Glad I thought to hop back on here before I have to leave for Raleigh. My oldest is coming back - 10:00…what the hell was he thinking booking his flight to get in at 10:00 and having ME come and get him (2 hour drive home).
This has been a fun “lesson” today. Thanks again, Jill, for being here!!
Comment by Jodie — November 24, 2007 @ 6:46 pm
Comment by Robin — November 24, 2007 @ 7:34 pm
Okay you guys - make Gena look like an amateur when it comes to writing BAD! Come on - give away the farm!
Comment by Jill Monroe — November 24, 2007 @ 8:34 pm
Okay, Jill. I can “tell” it with the best of them:
See what happens when you ask for bad writing??? ;+)))
Comment by ZaZa — November 24, 2007 @ 8:34 pm
By the way, I think that pic was taken in Texas while we were there for a tea! When you think Gena and Jill, you always think elegance! Good think I never get caught in pics like that, right Gena?
Comment by Jill Monroe — November 24, 2007 @ 8:40 pm
Oh…Jill. You should know not to challenge Gena in a war of wickedness.
Comment by Julie Leto — November 24, 2007 @ 9:51 pm
Thanks for the very interesting post, Jill!
Comment by Fedora — November 24, 2007 @ 10:04 pm
She was going for the Goth look. I’m not sure if she’s quite there yet.
Comment by gena showalter — November 24, 2007 @ 10:16 pm
You guys are too funny! Okay, so I did it wrong the first time. Here’s another go at it:
“Ever think maybe you’re in the wrong line of work?” Dana, the perky, annoying, dress to impress the wrong kind of people, reporter from the Atlanta Daily News, asked in a bored, when will this be over, tone. She flipped Skittle after Skittle into her mouth, taking care to chew the requisite ten chomps her mother probably taught her so she wouldn’t choke on her food. How anyone could chew on tiny candy for that long, Jessica didn’t know. It was irritating. Like a bad rash in the least comfortable spot.
“No. Why?” Jessica Huell shrugged, rolling her shoulders back to take her mind of the fact that the longer she sat there with no action, the longer she had to sit listening to Ms. Reporter chew. So much for the great article the reporter planned to write about Atlanta’s Most Interesting Professionals. This was about as interesting as cleaning dog poop off the bottom of your shoes. Clearly, Jessie’s execution of her current job was proving to be a dud, with a capital D, and she’d really hoped the exposure from the proffered feature in the newspaper would swing a little more business her way. She should have known by the way her day had gone that tonight would be like this. Her eleven o’clock showed up a half hour late wearing a mink stole and nothing else. Not even shoes. No explanation was given. Of course, the stench of whisky on her breath might have had something to do with it. The lunch time crowd at her favorite dive, The Crown & Anchor, where they make this chicken pot pie that’s to die for, made her not five, not ten, but fifteen minutes late for her one o’clock manicure and pedicure. Her toes and fingers were half French, half American. Then Mr. three o’clock shows up and laughs at her. Laughs. How the hell did he know what she was capable of? Just because he was some hairstylist in leather pants and flouncy shirt thing with the proper manicure, didn’t mean he should pass judgment on her. Truth be told, that had been the story of her life as of late. Tonight was supposed to change all that. Tonight was when she released her inner superhero and saved the day, leaping from tall buildings and flinging some golden lasso to catch the bad guys so that Ms. Skittle would write about what a fantastic, smart, one-of-a-kind, superhuman woman she was. Crap. Did she just start choking on the damn Skittles?
No time to check. Movement caught her eye. “Wait, get down,” Jessie said, as she pushed Dana’s head below the dashboard. The night wasn’t going to be a loss after all. She could still redeem herself, even if her nails and toes looked like sh*t. There was still hope. Maybe the bright red T-shirt she was wearing with the caricature of some guy she didn’t know, but had looked cute, so she bought the shirt, would be enough to garner her fashion points when all was said and done. Her career choice wasn’t going to make her mother ‘die an early death,’ like she’d been promising. She was going to make mom proud with a newspaper spread to end all stories. There would be a picture of her on the front page of the W section, and if anybody cared to read that far, they’d see her. That is, if the conk she’d just inflicted on Dana’s forehead didn’t lodge the Skittle in her throat for good.
Comment by Robin — November 24, 2007 @ 10:38 pm
About the pic…all those years of braces wasted!
Comment by Jill Monroe — November 24, 2007 @ 11:40 pm
sounds hot. love the covers Jill.
:elf:
Comment by kim h — November 26, 2007 @ 2:08 pm
was there a winner?
Comment by kim h — December 18, 2007 @ 1:58 am