Ellyn Oaksmith
Romantic Comedy/90k
Being overly kind
isn't in Kylie Harrow's nature. This has never been more evident than when
Kylie vents her frustrations to an innocent employee—and the whole scene is
posted online, tanking her career and earning her the dubious distinction of
"World's Worst Boss." But when she flees home to the South, Kylie
finds her childhood home has changed. The high school quarterback is now the
hot and handsome sheriff. Her mother has turned her home into a nudist colony.
And worst of all, having heard about her daughter's exploits, her mother won't
let her in the door until Kylie completes fifty kind acts in fifty days.
The task seems easy enough at first—and may even help repair her media image—but it quickly turns into a hilarious quest that leads Kylie down a bumpy road filled with new challenges. What started as a gimmick to save her career evolves into a mission to save a spunky old woman and her little dog from homelessness. As Kylie learns about the nature of kindness, she finds the path to happiness and, for the first time ever, maybe even love.
The task seems easy enough at first—and may even help repair her media image—but it quickly turns into a hilarious quest that leads Kylie down a bumpy road filled with new challenges. What started as a gimmick to save her career evolves into a mission to save a spunky old woman and her little dog from homelessness. As Kylie learns about the nature of kindness, she finds the path to happiness and, for the first time ever, maybe even love.
Guest Post -- When Nudism Pops Up by Ellyn Oaksmith
Comedy
is about funny moments that are both weird and relatable. The funniest moments
in a book or movie are awkward situations that you’ve almost been in but taken a
hundred times further. The main character in my book, Fifty Acts of Kindness is forced to go home when she’s fired
and finds out that her mother is running a B & B in her childhood home. Bad
enough, right? Your childhood home is
full of strangers. But what if those people were all naked?
Oddly
enough, the first reader of Fifty Acts of
Kindness thought that the first draft, without nudism, was great but I just
wasn’t happy. So much of writing is figuring out just when a manuscript is
great. Sure, you can fiddle around with it until your husband accuses you of
being afraid to let go, as mine has, but the non-nudist draft of Fifty Acts of Kindness was just too
sweet. Sure, it had a strong love story and character arc but it needed an
edge. And yes, nudism was the way to go.
Writing
scenes where everyone is nude and the main character is rather disgusted by the
situation is tricky. Synonyms for male and female body parts had to be found.
Men were described with details that weren’t erotic or loving. Imagine falling
in love/lust with the handsome guy you knew in high school and then, when you
walked in the door at home, you have to face your mother’s guests, who are all
older than you and naked? It makes for
some funny scenes. Throw in cooking and nudism and well, I don’t want to ruin
every laugh. I hope you read the book and see for yourself.
My
experience with nudism is limited and rather amusing. When I was a screenwriter
in LA I had a friend who came from a family of Austrian nudists. Yes, this
sounds like something from a Monty Python skit but it’s true. Suffice it to say
that they were nice people with a lovely home near Palm Springs where they
cavorted in the nude around the pool. My friend had hilarious stories of going
to nudist camps in the summer in Austria. It was almost inevitable that
something from this friend’s life would end up in my writing.
One
of the wonderful things about writing is the crazy roads I can go down.
Throwing nudism into a romance story definitely took the story to a new level
of funny without ruining the heart of the story. It’s about a woman becoming a
better person while falling in love.
I
hope you have a great summer full of good reads.
Excerpt:
"We are a
technology marketing company. People don't want to see our underwear or
ultrasounds or try to run a meeting while you jump up to pee."
"I'm due in
two weeks."
Her whine was
still grating on my nerves, but my recorded words sliced like knives. Was I the
equivalent of that rooster my mom had that pecked at the hens? One morning mom
found him dead, pecked to death. I thought, "Please do not let this be my
barnyard reckoning," even though things were clearly sliding in that
direction.
On screen I plowed
forward. "I cannot do your job and mine. It's killing me. I need you
on the ground running. Oh no wait, you can't run. Which is why you missed the
flight to Miami
Holy cow. I was so angry it blinded me to very fact she was recording.
"I was dehydrated."
We were both so
very tired. "Which is why you ended up lounging in Miami
"I ended up
in the hospital."
"And missed
the flight back to New York
I remembered this
day clearly. Sleep-deprived from a red eye, I'd left Betsy in New York
It was the perfect
storm, and she'd caught it.
I leaned forward
to downsize the screen. "2.7 million views?" She'd titled it "World's Worst Boss?!" There were
lots of comments, many expletives, and a passionate, nine exclamation points in
a row.
Bob dug a crust
from his eye. "It's not something to be proud of."
My mind raced. How
to spin this before he threw something out? I managed a casual shrug. "I'm
in marketing. I can't help it."
"This makes
us look so bad."
It was crunch
time. There was no room for complaints or excuses. "Does it though? Does
it? What I see is that we expect a certain professionalism and energy from our
employees, a requirement that, pregnant or not, they perform to the best of
their abilities." My delivery was very rough, but it was a message she
needed to hear." He wasn't buying. I grabbed for a straw. "Isn't
posting this on YouTube a violation of my privacy?"
"I don't
know," Bob said wearily. "That's 2.7 million negative hits with
MLJK's name attached."
My heart clenched.
I needed a cigarette. Now. "Whatever happened to 'any publicity is good
publicity'?"
He ignored my lame
joke. "She's threatening to file suit. I checked with legal. We can tie
her up in court, but the claim is legit."
I inhaled sharply,
forgetting, in my growing panic, to exhale.
"Breathe,
Kylie."
"S-s-suing
us?" Great, now I was stuttering.
"You called
her fat. She says you created an unhealthy work environment."
My jaw dropped.
This was not the time to point out that, as a former chubette, I never, ever
use the F-word. "The operative word here is work. I was running on vapors."
Bob got up and
looked out the window at his fabulous view. "Stella, by the way,
corroborates everything you've said." My eyebrows shot up in alarm.
"Yes, I've talked to her. I've talked to a few people, but the point is
that sooner or later we all have to deal with this. Pregnant women
deserve…" He stared off into the silver buildings and cloudless sky. When
I'd entered, the view had felt empowering. Now it was an invitation to jump.
"Latitude. We are a family-friendly company."
I snickered
bitterly. MLJK years were dog years. Most of the senior partners were divorced.
"And what about women who aren't ever going to have children? We just put
up and shut up?" I knew this sounded whiney, but I couldn't help myself. I
felt like a tightrope walker studying the tiny figures below, waiting for me to
fall. Then it struck me. I felt like this most of the time.
He gazed at me,
his eyes weary. "Come on. You're what, not even thirty? You don't know
that." Bob was still in his marriage of origin.
"Look at me
Bob. My relationships have the longevity of a fruit fly. I have nothing left at
the end of the day." I have nothing
left right now.
"Maybe it's
time to branch out."
Clearly he pitied
Betsy. It was time to grab the controls. "I can fix this. I can smooth
things out. Get my assistant her own assistant. At least until she's had
it."
"Her baby is
not an it," he snapped.
"Did I say
'it'?" I'd been talking so quickly. It?
Good move Kylie.
"Yes,"
Bob said quietly, losing his starch. Crossing his arms he glanced at a framed
photo: a gap-toothed, pig-tailed toddler on a swing, pushed by his beaming,
very pregnant wife. "You're going to have to leave until this dies
down."
For a second I
felt nothing but a weight pressing on the top of my head, a dull ringing in my
ears. "This isn't Survivor. You can't let random strangers on YouTube vote
me off because I lost my temper."
"They're not.
Lance is."
The CEO? I was in a tippy canoe, and by golly, there
went my paddle.
I made a tiny
bubble of an objection as I sank. "She wasn't doing her job."
"Effective
immediately," he said. I knew what preceded those two words. Terminated.
This wasn't a
break.
This was
permanent.
About the Author:
Ellyn is part of the Girlfriends Book Club which has been featured in The New York Times and USA Today. She lives in Seattle with her family, a rescue dog and a rather rotund cat.
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