you felt like no one cared enough to come to your rescue.”
Lottie tried not to let her frustration show. How many times had Gil looked past her needs to tend to Winifred’s? And hadn’t he extended a hand to help Cornelia out of the wagon today, completely overlooking Lottie? Had he thanked her, even once, for all her hard work on his behalf?
Suddenly she felt a bit ill.
Oblivious to her ponderings, Flossie forged ahead. “When that happened, what were you thinking? The key is to take those emotions, all of that very real angst, and transfer it to the page.”
Fanny reached to take Lottie’s hand, gazing into her eyes with great intensity. “Then, when your character speaks those lines, they sound real because they are real. They’re birthed from real-life experience. And your audience members will respond to them because they’ve felt the same way.”
“I—I see.” She did. Perhaps a little too clearly.
“Since we’re talking about the female-in-distress scene,” Flossie said, “I want to challenge your thinking a bit.”
“Oh?”
“You’ve made your heroine too soft. She’s counting too much on being rescued.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s lily-livered. Comes across as weak.”
“Isn’t that the idea? Our heroine—Miss Information—needs a man to sweep in and save the day. That’s what people will expect. And Justin Credible is the man for the job. He’s handsome, strong, and knows just what she needs when she needs it. Won’t the audience be expecting as much in a melodrama?”
Fanny clucked her tongue. “Lottie, this is 1912. Do I need to remind you that women across this country are fighting for the right to vote? Suffragettes are marching with banners and placards so that we can have a fair shake in the political arena. So, while we want to show a strong hero, we have to stay in touch with the times. Understand?”
“Your audience members won’t care much for your heroine if she’s weak or if she counts too much on a man to rescue her,” Flossie said.
“I guess I see your point, but I don’t know how to balance that against the traditional melodrama format. So how do we remedy the problem?”
“We’ve remedied it for you,” Fanny said. “Now, I hope it won’t hurt your feelings, but we’ve taken the liberty of doing a complete rewrite of your play.”
Lottie swallowed hard and said nothing.
“The answer to your dilemma was in front of you all along,” Flossie added. “This place—Estes Park—is loaded with enough real-life drama to transfer to the stage.”
Over the next twenty minutes or so, the twins unfolded their plan for the show. Not only had they completely changed the script, they’d added a host of characters, both male and female. Lottie listened as they described—with great animation—just how the story would unfold. At first the sting of having her original story overlooked was almost too much to take. But as the women shared their vision, reality stared her in the face. These women were a gift from God. She could either accept that gift or reject it. To accept it meant a beautifully plotted show and a happy audience. To reject it meant she would get her way and the show would move forward as currently written—with no depth.
When they finished speaking, Lottie rose and tugged at her overalls. “Ladies, you have misjudged me.”
“We—we have?” Confusion registered on Fanny’s face.
“Yes.” She looked down at them and grinned. “You were worried about hurting my feelings, and I need you to know that my feelings have been spared. This story idea you’ve come up with is brilliant. Better than brilliant, really. I love every single thing about it and can’t wait to see it come alive on the stage.”
“Oh, I’m so glad!” Fanny extended her hand and Lottie reached down to help the robust woman rise. Turned out to be more of a task than she’d imagined. Before all was said and done, Flossie sprang up to help.
“Well,
Lottie tried not to let her frustration show. How many times had Gil looked past her needs to tend to Winifred’s? And hadn’t he extended a hand to help Cornelia out of the wagon today, completely overlooking Lottie? Had he thanked her, even once, for all her hard work on his behalf?
Suddenly she felt a bit ill.
Oblivious to her ponderings, Flossie forged ahead. “When that happened, what were you thinking? The key is to take those emotions, all of that very real angst, and transfer it to the page.”
Fanny reached to take Lottie’s hand, gazing into her eyes with great intensity. “Then, when your character speaks those lines, they sound real because they are real. They’re birthed from real-life experience. And your audience members will respond to them because they’ve felt the same way.”
“I—I see.” She did. Perhaps a little too clearly.
“Since we’re talking about the female-in-distress scene,” Flossie said, “I want to challenge your thinking a bit.”
“Oh?”
“You’ve made your heroine too soft. She’s counting too much on being rescued.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s lily-livered. Comes across as weak.”
“Isn’t that the idea? Our heroine—Miss Information—needs a man to sweep in and save the day. That’s what people will expect. And Justin Credible is the man for the job. He’s handsome, strong, and knows just what she needs when she needs it. Won’t the audience be expecting as much in a melodrama?”
Fanny clucked her tongue. “Lottie, this is 1912. Do I need to remind you that women across this country are fighting for the right to vote? Suffragettes are marching with banners and placards so that we can have a fair shake in the political arena. So, while we want to show a strong hero, we have to stay in touch with the times. Understand?”
“Your audience members won’t care much for your heroine if she’s weak or if she counts too much on a man to rescue her,” Flossie said.
“I guess I see your point, but I don’t know how to balance that against the traditional melodrama format. So how do we remedy the problem?”
“We’ve remedied it for you,” Fanny said. “Now, I hope it won’t hurt your feelings, but we’ve taken the liberty of doing a complete rewrite of your play.”
Lottie swallowed hard and said nothing.
“The answer to your dilemma was in front of you all along,” Flossie added. “This place—Estes Park—is loaded with enough real-life drama to transfer to the stage.”
Over the next twenty minutes or so, the twins unfolded their plan for the show. Not only had they completely changed the script, they’d added a host of characters, both male and female. Lottie listened as they described—with great animation—just how the story would unfold. At first the sting of having her original story overlooked was almost too much to take. But as the women shared their vision, reality stared her in the face. These women were a gift from God. She could either accept that gift or reject it. To accept it meant a beautifully plotted show and a happy audience. To reject it meant she would get her way and the show would move forward as currently written—with no depth.
When they finished speaking, Lottie rose and tugged at her overalls. “Ladies, you have misjudged me.”
“We—we have?” Confusion registered on Fanny’s face.
“Yes.” She looked down at them and grinned. “You were worried about hurting my feelings, and I need you to know that my feelings have been spared. This story idea you’ve come up with is brilliant. Better than brilliant, really. I love every single thing about it and can’t wait to see it come alive on the stage.”
“Oh, I’m so glad!” Fanny extended her hand and Lottie reached down to help the robust woman rise. Turned out to be more of a task than she’d imagined. Before all was said and done, Flossie sprang up to help.
“Well,
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