NY Pitch 7 assignments
Story Statement.
A lonely young seamstress, struggling against her narcissistic great-grandmother’s tyrannical rule, must win her share of the senior cougar fashion beauty contest money in order to become independent from her great-grandmother, one of the contestants.
Antagonist:
Bedda Harris shares main character status with Skeeter, her great-granddaughter. At seventy-eight, Bedda sleeps with a bevy of young men who prefer senior cougars. Now in Ciudad de las Pumas Antiguas, a fictional South American resort where the 4th Annual Fashion Beauty Contest is underway, she suffers from ailing health and needs the painfully shy Skeeter to not only sew for her but to take care of her health-wise. Ever fearful that Skeeter may take male attention away from her, Bedda only allows her to wear baggy clothes in gray, brown, and navy blue, and permits no make-up whatsoever. She encourages Skeeter to see herself as someone who would never attract the young men Bedda wants for herself.
When Skeeter shows up at one of the fashion challenges dressed in a form-fitting mini-dress she’s made for herself, and good Lord, wearing make-up and sporting a new hairdo, Bedda calls the hussy a tramp. Skeeter moves out, living and sewing in a storeroom. Bedda realizes she might have lost Skeeter, and lies and cheats to try and get her back, fearful of dying alone. When a young man who has rejected Bedda later falls for Skeeter, Bedda connives to break them up in order to have Skeeter all to herself.
Title:
The Red Dress - The red dress that Skeeter makes for herself symbolizes Skeeter’s independence from her controlling, narcissistic great-grandmother with whom she’s lived for the past six years since her father has died. Bedda is threatened by Skeeter’s sexuality and tries to keep it from blooming by forbidding her to wear attractive clothing. Skeeter makes the dress from scratch, creating the pattern, as if she is making herself from scratch, creating a new Skeeter.
The Zero-Sexual - At 21, Skeeter has never been kissed much less had sex. She refers to herself as a zero-sexual because she fears she is unloveable and will always remain that way.
The Contest - The 4th Annual Fashion Beauty Contest is underway, but in protagonist Bedda's eyes, she finds Skeeter a threat and competes against her for male attention.
Genre: women’s fiction, coming of age
Comparables:
The Accidental Beauty Queen by Teri Wilson (2018)
Both this work and my work share a pageant as the setting, and involve a young heroine who is used to experiencing life second-hand who is suddenly thrust out of her comfort zone. Both heroines are used to offering support but suddenly find themselves in the limelight.
The Vacationers by Emma Straub (2015)
In both Emma Straub’s funny yet serious family drama and in my work, the setting for the novel is a vacation spot with family relationships at the fore. Just like the Post family in Straub's novel, dysfunctional relationships abound in my novel.
Hook or Logline:
A meek young seamstress, financially dependent upon her narcissistic great-grandmother, must win her share of the senior cougar fashion beauty contest money in order to escape her great-grandmother’s tyrannical rule and create a life, including a love life, of her own.
Core Wounds and the Primary Conflict:
Skeeter’s primary conflict is struggling with her grief after the death of her beloved father when she was fifteen. As a result of his death, Skeeter has dropped out of school, has no friends and because of self-isolating has never been on a date much less been kissed by a boy. She perceives herself as ugly, and Bedda, her narcissistic great-grandmother who she lives with, reinforces this. Bedda dates young men, allowing Skeeter to only wear drab, baggy clothes and no make-up, fearing that Skeeter will draw attention away from her and steal her suitors.
Skeeter’s only outlet is through sewing, and she’s good at it. Secondary conflicts occur when in Ciudad de Las Pumas Antiguas where Skeeter is Bedda's seamstress for a fashion beauty contest for senior cougars. Here, Skeeter makes friends with a young woman her age who encourages Skeeter to sew beautiful clothes for herself as well as for Bedda, and she gives Skeeter a make-over. Skeeter struggles with this new self she is creating, having little confidence that she could be beautiful. When Bedda sees the new Skeeter, she tears away at her confidence by calling her a tramp. When Skeeter later has a love interest and Bedda tries to derail it, afraid that Skeeter will run off with someone and leave her to fend for herself in her old age. Skeeter moves out of the hotel room they share, fighting for her independence by sewing for tourists on the side so she can make enough money to escape Bedda’s clutches in case they don't win the contest money. By the end of the novel Skeeter has enough self-confidence to tell Bedda she will no longer live with her, and is beginning to have the courage to say goodbye to her father.
Settings:
Ciudad de las Pumas Antiguas:
Ciudad de las Pumas Antiguas, or City of the Ancient Cougars, is a fictional South American resort where the novel takes place. It is home to the 4th Annual Fashion Beauty Pageant for Women of a Certain Age Plus More. The resort caters to elderly women and the young men who travel there to be with them, either out of desire or because they are gigolos. The main street includes a breakfast hangout called Crone’s Scones, stores called Hag’s Rags, Spare Hair and Battle-ax Wax. At the town square is the big rent tent, a huge tent where the contest takes place, and at the end of town is a steep hill that leads to the Institute with its different departments, such as The Department for Failing Memory, The Department for Vaginal Rejuvenation, The Department for Hair Growth, The Department for Grief, The Department for Love, and even The Department for Impotence for men. Tourists stay at the sprawling Gina Lollobrigida Hotel, named after the famous actress known for her young boy toy.
Example of the shops along the main street:
She passed a breakfast hangout called Crone’s Scones, people chatting inside, and at the town square a huge red tent-like structure was set up for the contest. Lanterns hung from trees, vendors sold food, the smell of meat filled the air. A string of boutiques lined the street. As Skeeter passed Hag’s Rags, she pressed her face against the plate glass window. Mannequins wore loose-fitting boho dresses in colorful paisley prints. Further down the avenue at Spare Hair, fluffy wigs in different shades of blonde were stretched over black plastic wig heads. Glancing in a window at the very end of the street, Skeeter was surprised to see a girl her age behind the counter. The girl’s skin was the color of coffee with cream, her dark eyebrows arched above her large round eyes. Skeeter saw herself reflected in the window, her red hair fiery in the sun, but her eyebrows and eyelashes were so pale they were almost invisible while her plum-colored eyes seemed empty. Next to this beauty, Skeeter looked like a glass of plain milk, or a ghost.
Example of the Institute:
Feeling sorry for herself, Skeeter hurried on. At the base of the mountain, a shuttle marked Institute waited, but Skeeter decided to walk, for after all, she was young. As she reached the halfway point, the shuttle passed her, gears grinding as it bucked up the hill. Ten minutes later, she reached the top and stopped to catch her breath, sweat dripping from her forehead as the sun beat down on her. A row of white buildings glittered in the sun, the shrubbery trimmed in the shapes of circles and stars, fairy lights strung around the trees, which must have looked beautiful at night. The place seemed magical, as if great things could happen up here, exceptional things, and she wished something magical and exceptional could happen to her. A manicured lawn, fancy wrought iron benches, a gravel pathway, a shiny marble directory... Old women in sun hats and sundresses strolled about.
She consulted the directory and found the Department for Vaginal Rejuvination listed in Building A2. She wound around the gravel path until she found it. “I need some...” she started, but couldn't get herself to say the words. Embarrassed, she opened her purse and handed the clerk the packet. “Six of them,” she said. She paid with Bedda's Visa card and hurried out the door.
Example of the Gina Lollobrigida Hotel:
The town looked forward to the revenue that would pour in from the pageant. While bellhops in dark blue uniforms privately rolled their eyes at the age differences and Father Miguel, the town priest, prayed inside his rectory for all these sexual sinners who had lost their way, the town was about to make more money in the next six weeks than at any other time of year. The sprawling Gina Lollobrigida Hotel with its orange fresco walls and tall arches, its chandeliers twinkling with tiny white bulbs that shone like diamonds, its red leather couches and plants with rubbery leaves stationed in every corner would be home to the tourists for the upcoming weeks. The hotel had tripled its staff, restaurants and cafes would soon be booming, nightclubs swelling, boutiques thriving, selling everything from evening gowns to micro-bikinis to G-spot vibrators to CandyMan thongs. The local shuttle, running every seven minutes from the hotel down the main street, would climb the grade to the world renowned Institute that loomed high on the hill with its many departments: The Department for Failing Memory; The Department for Vaginal Rejuvenation; The Department for Hair Growth; The Department for Grief; The Department for Love…
The shuttle came to a stop in the hotel’s circular drive-way, international flags hanging from the edifice, almost hiding the small simple flag of the host country with its diagonal red and black stripes separated by thin gold lines, plus Ciudad’s flag of a very old woman in a low-cut dress surrounded by smiling young men. Bedda rose to her full height of five feet ten and squeezed the driver's hand as she carefully stepped down. Skeeter, her great-granddaughter, whose only gift in life was that she could sew, trailed behind her.
The print shop and Reina’s kitchen:
Skeeter became friends with two young townspeople her age. The first is Luna, who manages the local print shop, Imprenta al Final de la Ciudad, that does all the advertising for the contest. Luna, into make-up and hair, gives Skeeter a make-over in the print shop bathroom, boosting Skeeter’s self-esteem. It is at the print shop that Luna encourages Skeeter to like herself. Luna also allows Skeeter to live in the cave-like storeroom out back of the shop when Skeeter flees the hotel after Bedda calls her a tramp for wearing a pretty dress. Jamie, a close friend of Luna’s, lives with his elderly relative named Reina, last year’s winner of the contest. It is in Reina’s kitchen where Jamie cooks and bakes, nurturing Skeeter and encouraging her not to think of herself as a zero-sexual.
Example of the print shop:
Luna had been sitting before the computer screen amid the familiar smell of heated paper, the copy machine whirring, spitting out copies into the waiting tray. Serving Ciudad for More than Thirty Years, a sign above her read, her uncle’s shop a fixture in the town. Ask About our Photographic Services, another sign read, displaying a picture of Luna behind a camera. She did everything from photo enlargements to private shoots for couples to events to taking shots for flyers and posters. Another sign advertised prices for prints, posters, copies, banners and business cards.
She’d run the shop for the last five years, ever since leaving the States to get away from unwanted male attention. In Ciudad, the male tourists were rarely interested in someone young. To help with her nostalgia, she’d personalized the hallway between the shop and the bathroom with posters of New Mexico - one of a winding highway, the mountains in the distance, one of the Carlsbad Caverns with its hanging stalactites, another of adobe houses in Santa Fe like the one in which she’d grown up. She kept an Out of Order sign on the restroom door to keep that room private.
Example of Reina’s kitchen:
Skeeter had made a friend through Luna. His name was Jamie and he was gay and young and perfect as a friend.
She walked to his home through the wealthy neighborhood, houses like bright dresses lining the street, puffs of flowers with lime-colored hearts, trees with leaves like big red hats. When she arrived at the grape-colored house for the pie-making, Jamie showed her into the cheery yellow kitchen, the sun shining through the sliding glass doors. Outside, Skeeter could see Reina floating in the shade in an inflatable lounge recliner, five or six men hanging about the pool.
So many cuckoo clocks on the kitchen wall, the pendulums swinging back and forth, ticking in unison... Skeeter eyed Jamie’s essentials on the kitchen table. A rolling pin, four Granny Smith apples, a glass pie dish, seasonings, a lemon, a bag of flour and one of sugar, mixing bowls, measuring spoons, a measuring cup. No one had ever shown her how to bake before. No one had ever explained how to get guys to like you, how to be a woman, except for Bedda’s ideas that most often made her feel weird.
Jamie wore a full-sized apron, Baking Queen written on the front, a fancy gold crown above the words. He looked really cute, and as he peeled the apples and then cored them, tossing them in a bowl with the juice of half a lemon, along with the cinnamon and nutmeg, she asked him questions like what was his relationship to Reina.
Ombu Park:
Ombu Park, the local town park, has a special section devoted to grief ceremonies where widows arrive dressed in black, and assisted by Father Miguel, the town priest, plus paid cryers, also wearing black, speak of their late husbands before writing their husband’s name in something called The Book of Names, a large book sitting on a podium, its pages weather-proofed. It is here that Skeeter comes by herself, near the end of the novel, to write her father’s name in this special book, feeling she is finally ready to confront her aching grief.
Example of Ombu Park:
She helped him with the dishes and they left. They walked down the road to Ombu Park. The grassy park was large, broad, with tall trees that extended way back, and a well-kept lawn and black metal benches. They walked inside the gate and came to a big ole tree with branches like a huge umbrella. Jamie said it was an Ombu tree, and it had these gigantic above-ground roots.
When they sat down between the claw-like roots they heard chanting, women's voices followed by a chorus of men’s deep baritone ones. A procession led by a priest with dark wavy hair followed, women in black dresses with black veils covering their faces slowly moving behind him. As the women got closer, Skeeter could see rosaries hanging from their hands, and each woman carried a long-stemmed white rose. Soon, a group of men appeared behind them in lightweight black suits.
“What’s this all about?” Skeeter asked.
“I’m not sure,” Jamie said.
They decided to follow from a distance. When the mourners came to a woodsy path with overhanging branches, the light grew dim, the trees forming a canopy overhead. The mourners formed a single-file line, she and Jamie at the end. A few minutes later they came to a small clearing with a podium in the middle, a few large glass vases in front of it. One by one, the veiled women placed the white roses in the vases. It seemed so formal. The mourners fanned out in front of the podium where one woman, her face hidden by a black veil, stood next to the priest. The woman was crying, her sobbing making small hiccup sounds.