I have a plot!

There’s a scene that’s been bouncing around my head all day. It’s from The Facts of Life—that eighties television show that chronicled the trials and tribulations of rich, young girls at an exclusive boarding school. In this scene, Blair Warner, the rich princess, gets a box: in it, her first couture gown. Blair is elated. And I remember she gushes–“Every girl’s first couture gown is a special thing.”

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Why can’t I have great scenes from Fellini films bouncing around in my head? When something momentous happens, why can’t I immediately think of transcendent paintings by the Dutch Masters with their still, light-filled interiors? When tragedy strikes, why do the experimental novels of the Bloomsbury Set remain an ever-elusive touchstone? I am ashamed to admit it but most of my reference points are terrible eighties television shows that my sisters—all older, bigger and meaner–made me watch.

 
So here’s my big announcement: this scene is what has been replaying itself on a loop in my mind for a whole day, because I have a real, bonified plot. And this is a big achievement. My first complicated detective story plot. It was all done last night with friends and drinks. We laid it out on index cards on a burgundy Persian carpet. Everything is numbered…so I can keep things straight in my noggin! Yeah!

And yes, I know it’s terribly demeaning to reference this moment in terms of a scene of crass privilege and materialism from an odious character, featured on a spin-off show that championed superficiality. I’m totally aware of this. But I can’t help how I feel. And I could have gussied up my point of reference but I’m trying to be honest with you here, warts and all.

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4 thoughts on “I have a plot!

  1. To me it doesn’t really whether points of reference are ‘highbrow,’ eighties TV, an action movie or something else. If something you see or experience really resonates you, then what you write will resonate with readers.

    • Thanks for the word of encouragement. You are absolutely correct: you gotta go with what speaks to you…and if it’s eighties television silliness, than so be it: this bad boy must be true to his ever-loving self! I mean, it’s not like I’m confessing that I love country music and american idol, am I?;)

    • Yeah. I heard about that. It’s hard to imagine her no longer being dainty and prissy and princess-y. It would shatter my illusions and I would be left feeling empty. You know, I cling to my illusions. I try always to live in the past…

      Oh wait, last season! That is the past!

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