Here’s a 2000-word excerpt from Rising Star that focuses on the relationship between a mother and daughter. Bonnie is the girlfriend of the keyboardist, home for Thanksgiving. It's about a ten-minute read:
Bonnie was seated at the piano, beside her sister, a large, shy fifteen-year-old wearing braces on her teeth. She refrained from accompaniment, marveling at the improvement of her sister's skill. The other members of the family were gathered in the large living room. There was enthusiastic applause at the end of the piece. Bonnie hugged her sister.
"That was so good, Les."
"Encore," said Mrs. Zimmerman, who was sturdy, dark-haired and of average height.
"Only if you'll join us."
The others encouraged her.
"Only if you promise not to laugh or hiss," she said, approaching the piano.
"I knew the ham in her would take over," her husband teased.
She suggested Do Re Mi. Leslie, unsure of it, ceded the bench to her mother, who reprimanded her for not knowing the piece. They laughed as they struggled with it. Mrs. Zimmerman carried her daughters, who mangled the lyrics. Her spirited musicianship inspired them to keep pace.
"You still have it, Mom," said Bonnie, embracing her.
"You must've really loved my Harry to give up the stage," said the elder Mrs. Zimmerman.
"Actually, I got tired of failure. Harry was my next best option."
"Actually," said Mr. Zimmerman, "I impregnated her, knowing her Jewish sensibilities would take over."
"Which reminds me -- the table has to be cleared. Come on, Bonnie, it's your turn. Play, Leslie."
Bonnie followed to the dining room, dreading the third degree.
"Your voice is not up to par. Maybe if you spent less time with your boyfriend..."
Bonnie's eyes pleaded. "Come on, Mom. I didn't come home to argue. We can do that over the phone. I don't have time to practice. My schedule's too hectic. I'm certainly not going to give up what little time off I have to polish a skill I don't need right now."
"Tell the writers you sing. Maybe they can write it into the show."
"I'm in no position to make suggestions."
They wrapped the abundant leftovers, then attacked the china and silverware.
"I wish you'd brought Mitchell. We're all anxious to meet him."
"His family wanted to have Thanksgiving alone this year. I told you that."
"I expect him at the wedding. I'll hire the band if I have to."
Bonnie scoffed. "You'd be shocked if you heard them."
Mrs. Zimmerman looked at her severely. "Who are you mixed up with?"
"I don't understand it myself. He's so intelligent and gifted. I don't know why he plays that kind of music."
"Is this a career threatening relationship?"
"No! How many times do I have to tell you that?"
"But he's not the one who'll have the babies," said Mrs. Zimmerman, entering the dining room, gathering the table cloth and stepping past her daughter, back into the kitchen.
"You're way ahead of yourself. I wish I hadn't told you."
"Just don't forget to take your pills."
"Stop being a stage mother. What daddy said wasn't true, was it??"
Mrs. Zimmerman paused, thinking. "What'd he say?"
"That you quit because you got pregnant with me."
"I quit because I wasn't good enough. You have a chance. You already have a foot in the door, the incentive to keep improving. Don't throw that opportunity away. You can wait ten more years to have children. There's no hurry. If you're truly in love, enjoy it, but don't be foolish."
The door swung open. Mr. Zimmerman entered the kitchen and parked his corpulent frame before the refrigerator. He took an ice cream pop from the freezer and left without a word.
"I forgot how much people in this house eat," said Bonnie, shaking her head. "Poor Leslie's starting to carry excess baggage too. And Mark's already starting to look old."
"Have you been taking your vitamins? You'd better if you're going to starve yourself."
"I'm not starving myself. I'm eating sensibly for the first time in my life. Stop sending the salamis."
"You're not taking diet pills, are you?"
"No! I've learned discipline. Will you stop?"
"I know what some girls will do to get ahead. I don't want you to hurt yourself, especially now that you're on your way. That's why I send you all those articles."
"I appreciate it, Mom, I really do. I just wish you'd stop repeating it over and over. It drives me crazy. I learned your values a long time ago. I'm not going to forget them."
"It happens to girls a lot stronger than you."
Again the door swung open. Mrs. Zimmerman glared at the intruder.
"What's for dessert?" said Mark.
Bonnie smirked. "Like father, like son. You'd better watch out or Sara'll sleep with the milkman."
"Sara has no concept of the real world, of the working class. Despite all she learned at Vassar, she could only mate with money."
"What a rotten thing to say. Why are you marrying her?"
"Because she's amiable and wants the type of home I can give her."
"Do you love her?"
"Only time will tell."
Bonnie slumped. Mark seemed to enjoy her dismay.
"How can you know you love someone until you've lived with them for a few years? I think I'll love her. Does that make you feel any better?"
"What happened to you? You used to be so much fun. Maybe Daddy should make you look for a job instead of handing you one."
"Jealous?"
"Of what? I know I can earn my keep. Can you?"
"Only time will tell," he said, unfazed, leaving with a piece of pumpkin pie.
"What happened to him?"
"He's in shock. The freedom of his college years is behind him. He didn't have time to think about it in law school. It's hit him all of a sudden. He sees the rest of his life charted before him."
"He made the choice, didn't he? No one forced him. Daddy never told him to study law, at least not while I was living here. And I'm sure you're not forcing him to marry Sara."
"Sara's perfect for him. I admire his judgment in that. She'll create the impression he needs and she'll run his home properly. Leslie will be the same way, I'm afraid."
"How can you predict people's lives like that?"
"You're being unrealistic. All women aren't created equal. A few have special gifts."
"Special gifts, my eye. I worked hard to get on that show."
"Of course you did, but you also have a higher base of natural talent than most women. Honestly, Bonnie, your ego's going to have to come out of hiding if you hope to go any further in the business."
"Women don't have to be performers to succeed. They can go into business or science or medicine or law."
"I can't see why a woman would choose something so common over being a homemaker."
"Isn't homemaking common?"
"Only for the unimaginative. And you're in charge."
"But you have to answer to Daddy, just like any woman has to answer to her boss."
"Your father answers to me. I thought you’d've realized that after all these years."
"I don't understand you. Why'd you encourage me if you feel this way?"
"Because I felt that if I pushed you would be uncommon. Few people have the opportunity you have. Do you mean to tell me if you failed as an actress you'd be satisfied making millions in another field? A doctor would have to cure cancer to get the same satisfaction you get from being a successful artist. Do you really believe successful women in other fields wouldn't trade places with you in a minute if they could?"
Bonnie stared. "I'm shocked. I'd always thought you were a feminist."
"What is feminism -- an attempt to make women as common as men? Don't you realize how unique your life is?"
"You have such a romantic notion of it. It's work just like any other. You should know that. And we don't even do the good women in legitimate jobs do. It's just self indulgence."
"The public would go insane without entertainment and art."
"Some groups claim shows like ours make people insane."
"And what about the sponsors? Where are their products made? In factories that employ thousands, whose products shows like yours help promote."
"Then why'd you push me to get good grades? You should've had me concentrate strictly on the arts and home economics."
"You had to learn discipline, to hone your intelligence. I wanted you to be able to make your own choices, and I wanted people to admire my children and myself. I married your father because it was my only suitable alternative to the stage. I can't understand why a woman would settle for less."
"That's only your opinion, and it stinks. There are so many women today who enjoy their success, who handle both a career and a home."
"Either their work or their children suffer."
"Studies prove it works. And a woman can become a success first and a mother later or vice versa."
"Only a rare woman can pull that off. You have a chance if you don't get foolish, if you wait to have children."
Bonnie paused. "You're playing the devil's advocate, saying all these negative things to scare me into locking into my career."
"The only thing I worry about with you is your drive. You have talent. I'm so proud that you didn't succumb to rejection. I was sure you'd be home in a few months without me there to push you. I used to wish you had Susan's determination. There's no doubt in my mind that she'll succeed, but you're soft, and you're in a hard business."
"Do you know how many auditions I went through?"
"I was sure you'd marry the first nice guy who proposed just so you'd get over the rejections. Thank God no one proposed."
"How do you know?"
"You would've told me. You can't keep anything important from me." She looked Bonnie in the eye. "Tell me the truth -- would you have stayed if Susan hadn't been there?"
Bonnie looked away, caught. "I don't know. Maybe she would've come home with me. Fact is, I've made it and she's still waiting tables."
"It's only a matter of time for her. They'd have to carry her away in a coffin before she ever gave up, especially now that you've made it. That must really burn her."
Bonnie was angered by her mother's delight. "I thought you looked down on common career women?"
"There is nothing common about Susan."
"I love the way you twist things to suit yourself."
"I look down on women who are too weak to choose between work and family."
"Maybe you're just jealous that they can handle both and you couldn't." She regretted the remark immediately. "Sorry. You just make me so crazy sometimes."
"You know I love you. I'd just hate to see you fail because of foolishness. If it gets too tough for you, I'd welcome you home. But please don't throw everything away on stupidity. I'd never forgive you for that."
"In other words, you want me to break up with Mitchell."
"Just don't allow him to jeopardize your career or do anything you might regret later. I say I was mediocre, but there's always been that fraction of doubt in my mind. The last rejection broke me, but I'll always wonder if the next audition would've been the one. I don't want you to have to live with that. I loved that life, even though I never did anything significant. Those were my happiest days. I know I drive you hard. I suppose I'm trying to make up for my failures through you, as psychologists say. I hope you don't hate me for it."
There were tears in her eyes. Bonnie embraced her.
"I could never hate you. I love what I'm doing. You were always fair -- annoying but fair. You didn't drag me to auditions when I was a little girl, like some mothers do."
"Fools."
"I had a very happy childhood."
Mrs. Klein's expression became grave. "Then how will you ever manage to do tragedy convincingly?"
Bonnie chuckled and shook her head. "You're hopeless, Mom."
"I miss you so much," her mother choked, kissing her.
Vic's 5th Novel: http://tinyurl.com/okxkwh5Vic's 4th novel: tinyurl.com/bszwlxh
Vic's 3rd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic's Short Story on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/k95k3nx
Vic's Short Story Collection: http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic's 2nd Novel: http://tiny.cc/0iHLb Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/kx3d3uf
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tinyurl.com/l84h63j
Vic's Short Story Collection: http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic's 2nd Novel: http://tiny.cc/0iHLb Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/kx3d3uf
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tinyurl.com/l84h63j
Vic's Rom-Com Screenplay: http://tinyurl.com/kny5llp
Vic's Horror Screenplay: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f
Vic's Blog: http://vicfortezza.blogspot.com/
Vic's Web Site: http://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
No comments:
Post a Comment