, , ,

Your blog is about to be recorded into an audiobook. If you could choose anyone — from your grandma to Samuel L. Jackson — to narrate your posts, who would it be?

My novel The Chic Bootlegger is still being worked on in my head; I have the last third to finish, maybe I am waiting for the kick in the pants of NANOWIRMO to get it done, I don’t know. This daily prompt is neat in that I could easily see Audrey Tatou in the role of Madeleine and her voice would be perfect for the part. Audrey has a wonderful youthful and innocent quality to her voice and that suits Madeleine I think perfectly. It is giving me an additional layer to work with while Madeleine is exploring New York circa 1925/1926.

Imagine Audrey speaking these words:
an excerpt of The Chic Bootlegger

Which brings me to my mother, I love her so much and yet she makes me so mad! I see her and I know that she is smart and she was beautiful. There should have been more for her to do than just marry, have babies and then work in the factory. But who am I kidding, just because it is the new century, it doesn’t mean that France would strip away centuries of how things are done. That phrase “how things are done” should be banished forever. In our class, that is what we do, we go to school to learn to read, write and do a little math. We are women; it wouldn’t do to know too many things, for the most part anyway. There are some really smart women but you have to be so smart and so stubborn to stay in school, that really isn’t for us Martins.
We are of the “ouvriere” class, the factory workers, we are the small parts of a big machine that makes things so that others can buy those things and make their own things and the circle just goes around and around. Everyone has their little place in the circle and no one should leave their little place because then it would upset the wheel and throw it off track. God forbid if that would happen, who knows chaos might happen and then where we would be? Who would remember their place?

I must sound like a spoiled bitter unmarried woman. Too old to be still living at home, bitter because I’m almost at the spinster stage in life, spoiled because I should be grateful for a roof over my head, a room to myself, family that loves me, food on the table, clothes on my back and a job. I know all this, I hear it quite often. I do try to be cheerful and thankful, I really do. It is just so hard sometimes when people around me annoy me like my little sister. She annoys me, I love her, you can’t help but love her. She is a sweet little thing; she brings out the protective instinct in everyone who meets her. She isn’t helpless, mind you. There is simply something about her that makes you want to take of her and that just grates on my nerves sometimes; I rebel against her magical power. Her two little girls are sweet, the oldest Georgette reminds me of me. We get along so well, she is curious and loves to read, as do I. The baby of the family Andree is still too young to be anything more than a little bundle of cuteness. For these two I am glad to be the one working full time so that Maman can get some physical rest so that she has it in her to be in charge of the two little ones, because my sister just isn’t up to raising the girls. She is still mooning over the two “loves” of her life and how miserable her life is without them. She also hasn’t been looking to well lately and we are all worried about her, hopefully the two little ones don’t notice it too much. I can’t tell for sure with Georgette because she is very clever, it is so sweet to watch her come and try to baby her own mother. I have such a special place in my heart for that one.

Madeleine has come a long way from that introduction; I need to finish her story in New York and then I can put the novel to bed.