that he’s not proud of me. He
just has very, um, narrow ideas
about music.’
Flashback
Having ended the fi rst scene
with a mystery, it was time to
meet Nita’s dad, via a fl ashback:
Nita could still remember the
day, when she was 12, that she’d
told her parents, over dinner,
that she wanted to study music
seriously.
‘There are only two words you
need to know about music.’ Rahul
Choudhary raised his fi nger for
emphasis. ‘Elvis Presley!’
Grinning like a loon, he
gestured to the shrine in the
corner of their living room: the
Wurlitzer jukebox, the life-size
cardboard cut-out of Elvis in a
white rhinestone jumpsuit...
The scene continued by
describing the constant
embarrassment that her
dad’s obsession caused Nita
throughout her childhood.
But what made a working-
class girl raised on Elvis music
become interested in the
violin? It was an important
part of her story to include, but
I didn’t want to use another
fl a s h b a c k.
There’s more than one
way to convey backstory,
however. One of the best is
through dialogue. So as I
also wanted to develop the
romantic subplot I cut back to
the present, where Jamil and
Nita are sharing a lunchtimecafeteria table
and he simply
asks her:‘What made
you take up
violin?’
‘There was a
music teacher at
primary school- Mrs Bell. One
day at assembly
she decided
to bring some
culture into our
lives by playing
a Beethoven
CD...’
The scene
revealed how
Mrs Bell had
eventually
helped Nita
obtain a
scholarship
to the Royal
College
of Music.
However,
the passage
ended with
Nita inwardly
recalling how
her eff orts to
turn her dad
on to Debussy
had proved fruitless:His hunched shoulders and
pained expression always forced
her to change CDs and spin
Are You Lonesome Tonight or
Suspicious Minds, to cheer him
up again.
On the train to college, she’d
wondered how she could ever
make him sit through a concert of
her own.That note of despair provided
the ‘black moment’ that every
story needs before the happy
ending resolves things.
For the penultimate sceneI moved swiftly on to the
opening night of the tour,
where Nita is pacing in the
wings but still has time for an
intimate exchange with Jamil:He looked away, shyly, then
turned back to face her, his
expression so earnest that her
heart skipped a beat.
‘Can I just say, you look
beautiful in that dress.’
Nita found her throat too dry
to answer, but as she gazed into
his gorgeous dark eyes, the craziest
thought shot through her mind:
dressed up as they were, with her
stomach full of butterfl ies, she
imagined them standing on an
Indian beach at sunset, about to
be married.Finale
In the context of a subplot,
I thought that brief fl ash
forward – in Nita’s mind, at
least – was enough to suggest
a happy ending down the line.
So I broke the romantic
moment with the arrival of
Rachel and Evelyn for the start
of the concert, and the story’s
real ending.
The closing scene found the
musicians on stage where I
fi nally revealed that they were
backing the celluloid Elvis:The entire audience was on
its feet, dancing, and no one was
enjoying themselves more than
Rahul Choudhary. Standing on
his seat, with both thumbs in
the air, there were tears of pride
streaming down his cheeks as he
watched his beautiful daughter
playing violin with the king of
rock ’n’ roll.I fi red off the story, with the
topical tie-in fl agged up in my
covering email, and happily
the Friend snapped it up to
run in the week of the real-life
concert. The Elvis factor had
worked again.violin?’CD...’eventuallyscholarshipAS Nita
Choudhary
strode across the
zebra crossing,
coffee in one
hand, violin in the other,
she noticed a trio of young
backpackers raise their
phones to photograph her.
The twenty-six-year-old
musician smiled at what
was becoming a twice-daily
occurrence.
It wasn’t that she was
famous.
The sightseers were
really snapping the black
and white stripes John
Lennon, Paul McCartney,
George Harrison and Ringo
Starr had walked across 50
years earlier, turning the
crossing into the most
recognisable set of road
markings in the world.
A short walk on, Nita
found more tourists
gathered outside the
white-faced Georgian
townhouse that housed
Abbey Road Studios.Hundreds more had
signed their names on the
low white wall that bounded the car park.
Though the wall was
repainted every three
months, the well-meant
graffiti always reappeared.
Inside, Studio Two was a
hubbub of chat and
laughter as a 70-strong
orchestra, casually dressed,
set up in the most
acoustically perfect room in
London.
As Nita passed the black
grand piano at which Paul
McCartney had sat to
record “Yesterday”, she
could barely believe she
was there.
From the beige walls and
brown drapes to the
parquet floor that shone
like a mirror beneath her,
she doubted the studio hadchanged much since it
opened in the 1930s.“Over here, Nita!” Rachel,
another newbie, waved
from a knot of gypsies, as
the violinists were
nicknamed.
“How are you today?”
Evelyn, the sixty-year-old
matriarch of the string
section, studied her over
the gold-rimmed glasses
that rode low on her nose.
“Fine, thanks. I still get
chills thinking about the
music that’s been made in
this room,” Nita admitted.
“Everything from Pink
Floyd to Elgar. It’s a lot to
live up to.”
“I’m sure we’ll do fine.”
Evelyn smiled reassuringly.
How fortunate and
honoured Nita felt to sit in
the string section next to a
musician who had played
every great concert hall in
the world and was probably
still the most skilled player
in the room.Evelyn never made an
unsolicited comment about
another musician’s playing, but always had advice to
pass on if asked.
Most of all, Nita took
inspiration from the
enthusiasm with whichEvelyn threw herself into
every piece, whether it was
the tense demands of
Shostakovich, a thrilling
film score or the romantic
backing for a Kylie
Minogue song.
The Royal Philharmonic
Orchestra could turn its
baton to anything.
Just then Rachel jabbed
an elbow into Nita’s ribs
with the subtlety of a fire
alarm.
Nita turned and caught
her breath as Jamil, a
young trombonist, wove his
way between the chairs and
music stands towards her,
his head a mass of
bobbing, glossy black curls.“Morning, Nita.” He
grinned. “Like a coffee?”
“I’ve got one, thanks.”
She showed him her
takeaway cup.
“Ah.” Jamil looked at the
steaming beverage he held
in each hand. “Looks like I
have two, then!”
He looked as
embarrassed as Nita felt.
Inwardly, she kicked
herself. Why couldn’t she
just have accepted the
drink he offered her?
“I’ll have it,” Rachel
offered.SHORT STORY BY JULIA DOUGLASNita loved
classical music.
Her dad,
however,
preferred the
king of rock
and roll...“There you go.” Jamil
gave her a cup. “So, Nita,
are you looking forward to
the tour next week?”
“I’m nervous,” Nita
confessed. “Especially
Manchester. It’ll be the first
time my dad’s ever seen
me play.”
“He’s never seen you play
before?” Rachel looked
astounded.“It’s not that he’s not
proud of me. He just has
narrow ideas about music.”Nita could still remember
the day, when she was
twelve, that she’d told her
parents she wanted to
study music.
“There are only two
words you need to know
about music.” Rahul
Choudhary raised his finger
for emphasis. “Elvis
Presley!”
Grinning, he gestured to
the shrine in the corner of
their living-room: the
Wurlitzer jukebox, the
life-size cardboard cut-out
of Elvis in a white
rhinestone jumpsuit,
countless other framed
photos and posters that
hung on the wall and the
set of figurines that
stood on theAll Shook UpIllustration by Jim Dewar.79How to Write and
Sell Fiction to
Magazines by
Douglas McPherson
is available to
download from the
Kindle store.MIXING FACT AND FICTION
Writers sometimes wonder if it’s permitted to use real people,
places and brands in a story. The general rule is it’s OK as long
as you don’t show them in a bad light. In this case, the People’s
Friend fi ction editor said: ‘We had a slight doubt over putting fi ctional
characters into such a defi ned real-life orchestra and event, but we can’t
see anyone objecting as it’s all very well intentioned.’