SPANISH SOAP OPERAS - SYNOPSIS
SPANISH SOAP OPERAS is a mainstream, multicultural novel by Erin McCormack, which uses the device of soap-opera action to look at how one person perceives another’s lifestyle choices -- whether dictated by necessity or created by problems of one’s own making. The story chronicles the main character’s evolution from a good-hearted but judgmental young woman to someone with greater understanding and ability to accept views different than her own. It also examines social networks as a key to survival and a way to overcome cultural and social prejudices. Throughout, the novel is an entertaining account of unlikely friendships in the crucible of 1980’s New York City.
GRETCHEN KEMP from small-town Ohio doesn’t swear, hardly drinks, balances her checkbook, and to her knowledge may be the only twenty-three year old virgin in New York City. But Gretchen is the black sheep of her family, defying her parents by taking an apartment in the city with her best friend, KIMBERLY, and accepting an editing job at Cardiac Digest. After Kimberly is mugged and returns to Ohio, Gretchen faces loneliness and the difficulties of coping with city life on her own. Soon she is befriended by two beautiful, ambitious women, quickly becoming part of their exciting, soap-opera like lives, testing Gretchen’s character and her perceptions.
Her two new amigas couldn’t be more different. MARISOL CORTEZ, a Puerto Rican beauty raised in the Bronx, is determined to leave the barrio behind. Gretchen relishes her role as mentor to Marisol, receptionist at Cardiac Digest and intercedes for her with cocky, good-looking salesman, ROY LATOUR, whom Marisol fears is trying to get her fired. Gretchen gets drawn into Marisol’s turbulent family life, as dramatic as Marisol’s beloved telenovelas -- Spanish soap operas. PAIGE KRENSKY, yuppie extraordinaire, recruits Gretchen to help her climb New York’s social ladder. Gretchen serves as Paige’s right-hand woman at charity auctions and social events where she meets Manhattan’s most eligible bachelors, while benefitting from Paige’s strategies for success.
Before long, problems emerge in Gretchen’s hectic double life. Conflicting demands from her friends force her to make choices for which she feels ill-prepared. The trouble escalates when Gretchen discovers that Marisol’s long-absent boyfriend, DIEGO GONZALEZ, is back in her life, recently released from prison for selling drugs to wealthy Manhattanites. Meanwhile, Gretchen tries to persuade Paige to end a perilous romance with SCOTT HAMMOND, son of a wealthy New York developer and politician, who has a penchant for cocaine.
The tension increases when Marisol points out a handsome face in a photo album: ROBERTO COLON is the drug runner who turned in Diego to the police. But Gretchen also recognizes Roberto as a friend of Scott’s and most likely his drug connection. She keeps this secret, worried that Diego may seek revenge, endangering her friends’ lives and happiness. Quickly following, Gretchen discovers her friends have acted in ways she finds shocking and morally questionable. Paige covers for Scott in a drug investigation, while Marisol steals a painting from the studio of a famous artist, her brother’s lover, who seems intent on revealing their homosexual relationship to the world. Distraught, Gretchen doubts that her friendships can continue.
As Gretchen struggles to deal with her friends’ actions, she develops an ally and admirer in Roy, a fellow Midwesterner also finding his place in the city. A fire in Gretchen’s apartment building lands her in the hospital, causing her to rely on Paige and Marisol, who grow closer as they help Gretchen recover. Moved by their care and concern, Gretchen realizes the value of their friendships in spite of their transgressions; and that no one, herself included, is without fault. She confides her fears to Roy about the dangerous connection between the two, and he promises to help her deal with it. With news of Roberto’s death, the crisis is avoided, and Gretchen is able to continue her romantic relationship with Roy and see a future for her friendships with Marisol and Paige.
SPANISH SOAP OPERAS (blurbs)
Melinda Lopez, Playwright and
Actress
Winner of Elliot Norton Award
for Best New Play, Sonia Flew
"Spanish Soap
Operas is a beautiful story about young women
finding their way through the city, and making the bonds that will sustain them
through life. It's a window into 1980's Manhattan
with a great big view. There's art, crime, commerce, love and santeria-- Cuban voodoo. Everything a great novel needs!"
Mark Ramont, Director of Theatre
Programming
Ford's Theatre, Washington, DC
"Erin McCormack’s novel of friendship and the shifting
grounds that accompany a deepening sense of the world is delightful, funny and
ultimately deeply moving. McCormack is particularly adept at drawing
complex female relationships that breathe with a wide emotional range that kept
me always guessing, always surprised, and always engaged. Gretchen’s
journey is a recognizable one made extraordinary by a keen attention to detail
and a love for the characters that inhabit her world. From first to last,
it is a journey that deepens our understanding of the challenges young people
of all backgrounds and experience face in this country’s most exciting and
harrowing city."
Marilyn Black, Professor of English
Middlesex Community College,Bedford, MA
"Spanish Soap Operas is a unique novel about diverse characters in an extended urban family during the eighties. Readers will relate to the personal and
professional struggles of Gretchen, the central character, as well as to those
of the twentysomething men and women in her life. One of the novel's great
strengths is its accessibility to young adults concerned with making their way
in the world. A dynamic narrative with twists and turns that keeps the reader
engaged!"
Excerpt from novel, Spanish Soap Operas
“But why aren’t we
moving?” Gretchen’s seatmate asked,
gripping the yellow pad against her like a shield. Her pale cheeks now had two spots of color.
“Why doesn’t anyone tell us what’s going on?”
The silver-haired lady raised a hand in the air expressively: the vagaries of life.
Gretchen’s breathing had evened. “It happens sometimes,” she said, making her voice sound matter-of-fact. “Maybe another train needs to pass, or there’s some kind of mechanical problem.”
“I don’t know about that,” the beige lady said darkly. “I read once there was a dead body on the track. It took hours to get clear.”
When Gretchen had first gotten on the train, taking the aisle seat, they had talked for a few minutes about the cold weather and hectic holiday season just past. Gretchen had said something about visiting cousins who lived at the Coast Guard station in Groton. The woman was from Providence on her way to Trenton, N.J. for her niece’s bridal shower.
“Yes, well, bad things happen everywhere,” Gretchen replied, finally.
“To tell you the truth, I don’t like the city,” the woman said, fingering a little cross at her neck. “One time I came with my husband, but we didn’t care for it at all. Left after one night. Too much noise, everyone in such a hurry. And, of course, now, with all the drugs and gangs and homeless people, I don’t know how anyone could live there.”
Gretchen looked down, smoothing the material across the thighs of her pants.
“I live there,” she said.
“Really?” The woman looked shocked.
“I’ve been in New York for about a year.”
“All by yourself?”
Gretchen hesitated. “My roommate from college came out with me,” she said. Then her throat tightened. “But she decided to go back.”
For a second, the woman said nothing, staring at Gretchen. “But why on earth would you want to stay? It’s dangerous and such a…a madhouse.”
Automatically, Gretchen smiled, but no words came out of her mouth. It didn’t seem the right time to say that she was thinking of leaving, that the city had proved too much for her: the stress and worry; and now, the loneliness. She was not about to say that her roommate and best friend from home had been mugged right outside their apartment, ending up at the emergency room.
“Well, it may seem that way,” the older woman across the aisle answered for her. “But, actually, it works surprisingly well for such a crowded place.” Looking over her cat’s eye glasses, she continued, “New York is an amazing city. There’s simply nowhere else like it in the world -- so much going on all the time, art, theater and music. Lots of people live there, when they could live anywhere else. I see celebrities all the time: you know, like Jackie Onassis or Woody Allen; to them, it’s home.”
“I suppose,” the other woman said grudgingly, “if you’re rich or famous.” She pointed at Gretchen, “But if she was my daughter, I’d lie awake at night, worried sick.” She shook her head. “A nice girl like you. I hate to think of what might happen.”
“Well,” the silver-haired lady said, smiling pleasantly, but drawing out her words. “It’s not for the faint of heart. You don’t go there to be safe and cozy. It’s an extraordinary place where extraordinary things happen.” Then she blinked behind her glasses, turning to Gretchen, “You have to keep your wits about you, and have friends who will look out for you. That’s all,” she said, settling back in her seat. “It’s really quite manageable.”
Gretchen nodded, thankful. But she feared her smile was more wistful than confident. She was used to using her wits; the problem was she really had no friends, even after a year in the city. She’d spent so much time with Kimberly; they were a team. Most of the folks she worked with were so much older, and many of them didn’t live in the city. A couple who lived on her floor in the apartment building was friendly, but they were focused on having a baby, likely to be leaving. The single woman down the hall, whatever her name was, barely nodded hello. It was not so easy, at least not for her.
Just then, after almost half an hour, the train lurched into motion. Cheers went up from hundreds of passengers, young and old, English and other languages, along with a few obscenities. The ceiling lights came back on and the fans. In just a few minutes, the train pulled into the platform at Penn Station.
The silver-haired lady raised a hand in the air expressively: the vagaries of life.
Gretchen’s breathing had evened. “It happens sometimes,” she said, making her voice sound matter-of-fact. “Maybe another train needs to pass, or there’s some kind of mechanical problem.”
“I don’t know about that,” the beige lady said darkly. “I read once there was a dead body on the track. It took hours to get clear.”
When Gretchen had first gotten on the train, taking the aisle seat, they had talked for a few minutes about the cold weather and hectic holiday season just past. Gretchen had said something about visiting cousins who lived at the Coast Guard station in Groton. The woman was from Providence on her way to Trenton, N.J. for her niece’s bridal shower.
“Yes, well, bad things happen everywhere,” Gretchen replied, finally.
“To tell you the truth, I don’t like the city,” the woman said, fingering a little cross at her neck. “One time I came with my husband, but we didn’t care for it at all. Left after one night. Too much noise, everyone in such a hurry. And, of course, now, with all the drugs and gangs and homeless people, I don’t know how anyone could live there.”
Gretchen looked down, smoothing the material across the thighs of her pants.
“I live there,” she said.
“Really?” The woman looked shocked.
“I’ve been in New York for about a year.”
“All by yourself?”
Gretchen hesitated. “My roommate from college came out with me,” she said. Then her throat tightened. “But she decided to go back.”
For a second, the woman said nothing, staring at Gretchen. “But why on earth would you want to stay? It’s dangerous and such a…a madhouse.”
Automatically, Gretchen smiled, but no words came out of her mouth. It didn’t seem the right time to say that she was thinking of leaving, that the city had proved too much for her: the stress and worry; and now, the loneliness. She was not about to say that her roommate and best friend from home had been mugged right outside their apartment, ending up at the emergency room.
“Well, it may seem that way,” the older woman across the aisle answered for her. “But, actually, it works surprisingly well for such a crowded place.” Looking over her cat’s eye glasses, she continued, “New York is an amazing city. There’s simply nowhere else like it in the world -- so much going on all the time, art, theater and music. Lots of people live there, when they could live anywhere else. I see celebrities all the time: you know, like Jackie Onassis or Woody Allen; to them, it’s home.”
“I suppose,” the other woman said grudgingly, “if you’re rich or famous.” She pointed at Gretchen, “But if she was my daughter, I’d lie awake at night, worried sick.” She shook her head. “A nice girl like you. I hate to think of what might happen.”
“Well,” the silver-haired lady said, smiling pleasantly, but drawing out her words. “It’s not for the faint of heart. You don’t go there to be safe and cozy. It’s an extraordinary place where extraordinary things happen.” Then she blinked behind her glasses, turning to Gretchen, “You have to keep your wits about you, and have friends who will look out for you. That’s all,” she said, settling back in her seat. “It’s really quite manageable.”
Gretchen nodded, thankful. But she feared her smile was more wistful than confident. She was used to using her wits; the problem was she really had no friends, even after a year in the city. She’d spent so much time with Kimberly; they were a team. Most of the folks she worked with were so much older, and many of them didn’t live in the city. A couple who lived on her floor in the apartment building was friendly, but they were focused on having a baby, likely to be leaving. The single woman down the hall, whatever her name was, barely nodded hello. It was not so easy, at least not for her.
Just then, after almost half an hour, the train lurched into motion. Cheers went up from hundreds of passengers, young and old, English and other languages, along with a few obscenities. The ceiling lights came back on and the fans. In just a few minutes, the train pulled into the platform at Penn Station.
