When My Real Life and Fictional Worlds Combine

Photo credit: Tyler Mitchell Photography

For the past couple months I’ve been directing Beautiful, The Carole King Musical at The Keeton theatre in Nashville. It closed yesterday. This show is about the first decade of Carole King’s illustrious songwriting career and chronicles the relationship she had with her first husband and songwriting partner Gerry Goffin.

In the scene where Goffin and King meet, they are both in college. She wants to compose pop songs, and he is an aspiring playwright. They decide to help each other out creatively, but then Gerry suggests that they could do “more than just work together.” Next thing you know, they’re kissing. It’s a cute scene, even if it does read a little predatory in modern context.

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​The scene always makes me think of a scene in my romantic women's fiction novel Anything but Graceful. This book centers around a 50-year-old woman who gave up on her dreams of being a professional actress while still in college and lives with the regret of that decision. The story goes back and forth from her current life to the events of her past that created her fears and doubts. 

Early on in the backstory, when Grace is still 18, she meets Tyler, a fellow theatre major, who is handsome, talented and already popular. Out of all the girls in their drama class, he chooses her to do a scene with him.

​Wouldn’t you know it? They’re doing a scene from Barefoot in the Park (which just happens to be the next play we’re doing at The Keeton.) When the two of them are rehearsing, well… we get a little of the same Carole King/Gerry Goffin kind of moment.

A lot of this book draws from my experiences as a theatre major in college. I did in fact date a very cute, very talented actor. We did in fact do a scene together from Barefoot in the Park. Although, in real life our rehearsals weren't as smoochy as this scene in my book gets.
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We actually performed the scene while attending master classes for a half-semester in New York City, with the one and only Uta Hagen as our Drama coach. Yes, doing a scene in front of one of the foremost theatre coaches in the world was intimidating to say the least.
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Uta Hagen asked us to add an element to our scene to help us work on our “fourth wall” skills (where you imagine what exists in the part of the room where the audience is sitting). To prepare, we were to notice three things we stared at in the room while talking on the phone at home and remember that for the scene. This was back in 1988, so this meant using a landline phone where you stay still. Well, this was hard for me to do, because we were staying in a sublet in New York, and we didn't have a phone. I had to use the pay phone down the block, which was outside and didn't have a "fourth wall". I also, realized that I didn't tend to stare at things when I talk on the phone. I doodled. This exercise wasn't working for me, and I ultimately had to imagine the wall and pick three things to look at during our scene.

Surprise, surprise! That didn't go well for me at all. Uta Hagen saw right through me and made sure that I, and everyone in the class, knew it. I adapted this experience and added it to the book as well.
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So, here’s a little excerpt from this section of the novel to enjoy!

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Anything But Graceful - an excerpt from Chapter Three

“Grace! Grace!” I opened my eyes to find Tyler standing in front of me waving two stapled scenes. “I got it. Barefoot in the Park. It’s the best scene up there. I knew the second Dr. Williams described it that I had to do this scene with you.”

What was happening? Tyler, Mr. Hotshot, had emerged from the battle with spoils for me?

“With me?” I clarified. I knew he couldn’t do another scene with Kei. No repeat partners allowed. There were plenty of other talented girls in this class. Cuter girls.

“Yes, you,” he said sweetly. He handed me a script. “I decided on the first day of this class I had to do at least one scene with you this semester, and I’ve been waiting for the perfect one.”

I met his eager blue eyes. “I’d love to do a scene with you. If you think I’d be good enough.”

He wriggled his nose like he tasted something sour. “Come on, Graceful. You’re one of the best in this class, and you know it.”

“I don’t know that.”

“Well, I do.”

I accepted his vote of confidence.

“Besides,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to get to know you better, but we’re both so busy. This’ll force us to spend at least a little time together over the next week or so.”

How could I resist? I caught the glares of six different girls as Tyler and I sat down together and did a quick read-through. I was proud as hell.

Even though Tyler told me not to, I rented the movie from Blockbuster and watched it at home with my mom before the next time he and I got together to rehearse. It was cute and helpful.

Tyler totally noticed that I had adapted my acting style to match what Jane Fonda did and scolded me gently for it.

“Knock that off and get back to acting,” he said. “You won’t impress anybody by being a copycat.”

Only, this is what I’d always done before. I mimicked the actors in the movies. I figured they had mastered the roles and why not borrow their style? In high school, I was praised for my impersonation ability. Tyler said he never watched the movie versions of plays or musicals he was in. He wanted to have his own unique stamp on it. He wanted his opinions to be fresh. He told me that some actors don’t even read the novels that a movie is based on because they don’t want to be biased by anything.

We got together to rehearse in the commons area at his dorm. The room was designed to have a home family room appeal to it for the kids who wanted to gather and watch a movie together or hang out. It wasn’t as inviting as it might have been a decade or two earlier when the sofa had been less ratty, the end tables less wobbly, the coffee table absent of stains and scratches, and the armchairs less worn. The boxy TV in the corner had broken antennas, and I suspected it didn’t have a cable connection. I did see a VCR on the shelf below it, so that was something.

Tyler and I rearranged the furniture to be set like it would be in an apartment. When it came time to perform the scene in class, all we’d have at our disposal would be folding chairs, but we both liked the idea of doing the scene in a realistic setting to see how it felt. Tyler said it would give us “affective memory” that we could call on when we performed the scene in class. When I asked where he learned that, he told me about Method Acting and Stanislovsky. He was excited to share this knowledge with me and didn’t patronize me for not knowing it. Still, I felt dumb being a theatre major in college never having heard of this style of acting or this great theatre guru. My high school drama teacher didn’t have us learn stuff like that. We just had fun. Before I started college, I thought doing theatre was supposed to be fun.

The only thing we couldn’t avoid or incorporate into our acting were the constant intrusions. This was the main passthrough for everyone living in this dorm building. Girls entered and headed to the halls on the right, boys to the left. It was four in the afternoon, so lots of kids were coming in from finishing their classes. A couple of students had the decency to hush up as they passed. Most didn’t even notice us and kept chatting nonstop.

We’d been assigned the biggest scene in the play between the two main characters, newlyweds who had moved into a problematic apartment. It was a big fight between them when they realized they didn’t have as much in common as they had once thought. Every time Tyler and I got deep into our acting, someone would walk through and check to see if we were okay. The fifth time broke Tyler. It was the campus security guard. The man strolled into the room, his thumbs in his pockets, and said, “Is this boy bothering you, miss?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “He won’t stop picking on the way I deliver my lines.”

Tyler collapsed on the sofa and started laughing. It was infectious, and giggles bubbled up in me, too. Confusion washed over the security guard’s features, which only made us both laugh harder. Finally, he figured out that everything was on the up and up, even if it didn’t make sense to him, and he exited the building.

I plopped down next to Tyler. The uneven cushions forced me to roll slightly into him so that our shoulders and legs touched. “I guess we’re getting it right,” I said, as I struggled in vain to get more centered on the cushion. “People think we’re really fighting.”

Tyler ran a hand over his face in a poor attempt to calm himself. “Well, I guess that’s something. This is a terrible place to practice.”

“It is,” I agreed. We both turned our heads to face each other, our noses practically touching, and we burst out laughing again.
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His laugh was high and light, matching his tenor voice. If it was possible, the blue of his eyes brightened when he laughed, like his laughter blew away the clouds in the sky. Our shoulders bobbed up and down against each other, and it was everything I could do to not lean forward a bit more and press my lips to his.

“Can we rehearse in your room?”

Tyler shook his head, sighing. “It’s too small, and Terrance is probably studying in there right now. Could we go to your place?”

“I don’t live on campus. It’s a good thirty minutes from here.”

He groaned. “I’ve got rehearsal in an hour, so that won’t work.”

“Yeah, I have to work later, too.”

I picked up my script from the coffee table and fiddled with it in my lap. Tyler had stopped laughing. I’m sure his thoughts were consumed with finding a quieter place to go. On the contrary, I wasn’t much interested in moving at all. Our upper arms were still touching. He made no effort to get away from me, and I certainly wasn’t going to make an attempt to get away from him.

After a long minute, he put a hand on my leg. The warmth of it went right through my jeans. Why hadn’t I worn a skirt or shorts? Tyler squeezed my leg softly, conciliatory, then gave it a quick pat before standing up. “I guess we’ll have to practice quietly. We’ll definitely have to get together again at least once more before we have to present this so we can practice full out.”

“Sure.” I folded the script long-ways along the same leg he’d touched as if protecting the spot from any other sensation. “It’s a good thing we didn’t do the first scene in the show. We’d really get a reaction around here.”

“What do you mean?”

I tapped the script to my chin, barely touching my lower lip as I debated whether or not to continue with my thought. “Have you seen the movie? Ever, I mean?”

“I don’t think so. My mom likes it. She got jazzed when I called and told her I was doing a scene from it. She’s a big Jane Fonda fan. Does her workout video every day.”

I nodded, tilting my head a little and offering my best flirty smile. “Well, I don’t know if it’s in the play, but in the movie there’s this scene right at the beginning, right after their first nigh as newlyweds, when she won’t let her husband leave for work without giving her a big, juicy kiss right there in the hallway. It’s romantic.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. And she’s only wearing a robe.”

Tyler sat on the coffee table in front of me, his knees on both sides of mine, his elbows resting on his knees. “That sounds like a way more fun scene than this one.”

I leaned forward so that our faces were only an inch apart. “I think so, too.”

He’d been looking me in the eyes, but his gaze drifted to my lips. “Wanna switch and try that scene instead?”

“We probably shouldn’t.”

“No, not for class, anyway. But maybe… Just for fun, you know.”

“Yeah. For fun.”

Tyler closed the gap between us, pressing his lips to mine. His arms reached for me, wrapping around my back and pulling me even closer. I opened my legs so that one of his knees slipped between mine, and I scooted to the edge of the couch. The script fluttered to the floor as I snuck my arms up his chest, over his shoulders, and then intertwined my fingers behind his neck. The kiss intensified. Our mouths opened and our tongues met. A soft moan escaped me as his hands ran up my back, pressing my chest against his.

The coffee table creaked dangerously. Tyler’s eyes widened in alarm. He put his hands on my shoulders to steady me so I didn’t fall into him as he abruptly stopped kissing me. “This could be dangerous.”

“I know,” I said with a giggle. We were both talking about the rickety table—and maybe a little bit more than that. “You sure you don’t want to come over to my house? My mom won’t be home.”

Tyler got off the table and sat beside me on the couch again. He reclined into the cushions and draped an arm over the back. I took that as an invitation and leaned into him, putting my head on his shoulder. “You live with your mom?” I nodded. “Just the two of you?” I nodded again. “Cool.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. It didn’t feel judgmental, but, honestly, he was a good actor. Maybe he liked the idea of having somewhere to go off campus.

“I can’t go now,” Tyler said. He put a finger to my chin and turned my face to his. His blue eyes twinkled. Those natural upward curls of his lips were pronounced. “But I really want to.”

He kissed me again, his fingers brushing my cheek and finding their way to my hair. We heard some whistles from people walking through the common room. He didn’t pause to look up or respond. I put a leg across his. He lowered his hand to my hip and hooked one finger through the belt loop of my jeans and tickled my exposed skin above it with another. A tingle ran through my body, and I gasped from the sensation.

The kisses stopped, and Tyler’s expression grew serious. “I didn’t expect this to happen, Grace. Is this okay?”

I nodded eagerly. “Yes. It’s okay. It’s awesome.”

Tyler smiled. He didn’t take his hand away from my hip. I didn’t move my legs. We were practically nose to nose. “We can’t do this here,” he said. “I want to so much. Wow. You have no idea. But not right here. You know what I mean?”

I gave him my best pout.

“God, you’re so cute.”

I put a finger to my dimple and said in my best Betty Boop voice, “Thank you.”

He gave me one more light kiss and then got up, scooping up my script from the floor and grabbing his from the table. As if nothing had happened, we were right back to rehearsing.

Oh, but something had happened. Our chemistry was lightning now. The scene was brilliant. It was the best acting I’d ever felt come out of me. I decided I might be good at this after all.
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We got together to practice twice more, both times at my house. Both times ending in passionate make-out sessions in my bedroom. Acting turned him on. While I thought of little else but wanting to kiss him while we practiced, he was all business and didn’t get frisky until we’d hit the desired level of passion within the confines of the scene. It was as if our kissing each other was our reward for great work.

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I hope you enjoyed that little snippet. If you’re curious to know if their scene goes over well when they present it in class, how this relationship between Grace and Tyler will wind up, or how this memory affects Grace now that she’s much older and looking back on it, then you’ll need to read Anything but Graceful to find out. Click on the picture to learn more about the book and find links to purchase a copy.

I'd love to hear from you, so please leave a comment.

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