An Alternative Sample

In just nine days I have an appointment with Anita Mumm from the Nelson Literary Agency to pitch my memoir, Finding Me. I emailed her a query letter on Monday, so I may hear back from her before the appointment. Maybe not. I'm nervous about it. I'm trying not to build up false hope by focusing on the materials I'm going to take with me. A few days ago I blogged here about which sample pages I should take with me just in case she asks for more of my manuscript. One of you offered some really sound suggestions, which I appreciated, so now it's time to look at an alternative choice. The book is divided into an introduction and three parts. Parts I, II and III each end with a big surprise, a twist that will carry the reader into the next section or to the climax. I'm not going to give those surprises away, so I'll have to pick a portion that represents the best of my writing without being too obvious. The least important of the three parts is the first one. In this scene my parents and I have traveled to New York over the holidays and we go to see a play written by Neil Simon, which was performed at his theater. The play is Jake's Women, and the scene I recall is a reunion between a mother and her daughter. So, here goes. There is much more to the chapter, which I can't reveal here, but does this piece work? Is it too much Neil Simon and not enough me? Please do let me know here on the blog what you think - it'll help me make an important decision.  Thanks.


    After dinner that night, we took a cab to 52nd Avenue and the Neil Simon Theater to see Alan Alda play the lead in Jake’s Women.  I’d never heard of it before, but the storyline sounded interesting.  A middle-aged writer, Jake, has imaginary conversations with the women in his life.  As the play progresses the therapist, sister, daughter and dead first wife appear on stage to “talk” with Jake about his various problems and failing second marriage.  It is typical Neil Simon humor and pace.  In one scene, Jake’s dead wife, Julie, asks him to include their daughter in their next “talk.” Julie didn't get to see their daughter grow up.  She asks Jake to imagine that she lived past the age of 24 and allow her to talk with Molly, who is now 21. 
    At first I didn’t realize that we were about to watch a reunion between a mother and her daughter, between Julie and Molly.  But as Molly begins to understand what is happening, and responds with excitement, I know her.   
Molly: Hello.  Mom.
Julie: Hello, Molly.  Would you like to sit down here with me?
Molly: Yes, of course.  I have a million things to ask you.  It’s like meeting someone you’ve always heard about.  Like a movie star.  I feel like asking for your autograph!
Then Jake makes the moment a human one, ”Haven’t we all done this?” he asks.  “Who hasn’t thought about what it would be like to speak to a father or a mother who died five or twenty years ago?  Would your mother still be proud of you?  Would you still be your father’s little girl?  We’ve all played out that scene.”
    Molly goes on to say what I wanted to say, and her mother comforts her with the words I wanted to hear.
Julie: No, it was terrible for me to leave.  You must have been so angry.
Molly: Not angry.  I just never knew where you went.  It happened so fast.  I kept thinking you’d come back.  All I had was your picture by my bed…Sometimes I could hear your voice so clear, so comforting, telling me not to worry, telling me you missed me, telling me you loved me,” Molly says,  …I felt so cheated.
Julie: I’m sorry about that, Molly.  I’m sorry about all the years we didn’t have together. 
    Jake’s imaginary conversation has to come to an end, but Molly doesn’t like it. 
Molly: I’ve been waiting for this day since I was ten years old.  I don’t want her to go.
Julie: Your dad kept his promise to me.  He’ll keep it to you, too.  I’ll come again.  I swear.
Molly: No!  You said that to me in New Hampshire and you never came back.  I don’t trust you anymore.  I don’t trust anybody any more.  I need you to fill in the years we didn’t have together.  Please don’t stop talking, Mom.”
    Like Molly, I wanted my birthmother to talk to me, to say the words that would heal me.