Tag Archives: Blowsy

A final illustration from my novel about teenage chorus girls, written at age 12

Look at how meticulous I was with Cherrie’s fishnets. I have to say, I like how I rendered Blowsy’s left foot. I think that is rather good. Here are Blowsy and Cherrie, BFFs. (Uhm – BLOWSY and CHERRIE???) They sit … Continue reading

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Yet another excerpt from my novel, written at age 12, about Blowsy the teenage chorus girl

CHAPTER 3 Going to “Sleep” “Hi, guys!” Blowsy greeted her preparing for bed roommates. “Where have you been?” Irene asked, vivaciously rubbing cold cream into her cheeks. “With Jeremy. Of course.” Mitzie supplied, with a disgusted roll of her eyes. … Continue reading

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Another Blowsy illustration

Because my humiliation isn’t quite complete. Here is Blowsy, on Jeremy’s shoulder – this is from when they are in the rehearsal room going over their Charleston number. I like the girl huddled over the victrola. Also, check out the … Continue reading

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Blowsy and Jeremy sittin’ in a tree: The illustration

Jean – as you requested – here is one of the MANY illustrations I added to my novel. A couple things to note: 1. I added Blowsy’s earrings with a different color pen. I obviously had gone back to edit … Continue reading

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The adventures of Blowsy, the teenage chorus girl, continued.

Chapter 1 is unforgivably long. Let’s move on. The show is over, and Jeremy and Blowsy walk home together. This appears to be a novel with ZERO conflict, except for the fact that poor Dolly has a “terrible inferiority complex”, … Continue reading

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More from my novel about some Ziegfeld girls – written at age 12

Okay, so you want more? Here’s some more. I winced reading this, wanting to tell my younger self to wrap it up – PLEASE. There is a CAMEO here from a famous person – which doesn’t quite work, timewise – … Continue reading

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My novel about some Ziegfeld girls – written at age 12

In unpacking my new place, I found a battered cardboard box that I don’t believe I have looked in for 76 years. I glanced in it yesterday and saw a pile of papers with my childish writing on it. I … Continue reading

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