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bumblebee1696

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Carrie’s post she shared in her stories about ‘being difficult to work with’... does she realise that often people say she’s difficult to work with because she’s not a nice person? People in the industry, and not just on tattle, have been saying she’s a nightmare to work with. There’s being ‘difficult to take advantage of’ and there’s ‘being a nightmare’. Very different. But of course, she will never acknowledge that she’s the problem.
 
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@agirlofnoimportance - wow. You absolutely shouldn't feel mean or bad writing that. You have a wonderful way with words and you're also very thoughtful to even consider how what you're writing is coming across. (Unlike Carrie...) - I'd 100% read an abridged version of the novel written by yourself!

I remember on GG - or perhaps it was here - there was a user who did a chapter by chapter account of In The Time We Lost (I might have miswrote the title) and it was thoroughly enjoyable!

I've been MIA from this place for a while but I've definitely timed it right coming back!

Mass respect to Moose if you see this. Here's to a prosperous, intelligent, mature return to the West End for you - surrounded with supportive casts who genuinely support you. Not just for an Insta post or a feature in their YT video. I could go on about Carrie's hypocrisy in how she did what she did and for how she treated you, but karma is a twat and sooner or later it will catch up for her.

Sidenote - as a Libra, it deeply baffles me how Carrie is also a Libran. She stinks of Scorpio vibes!

Anyway. It's good to be back.
Thank you so much for saying that, you didn't have to, so you were very kind to do so! Welcome back.

So I've gone and started a chapter by chapter summary of When The Curtain Falls. This is the prologue to Chapter Five. There are twenty-one chapters, so I'll do the rest down the line at some point if there is any interest. I've put each chapter summary in a spoiler to avoid clogging up the timeline for those who aren't interested. I put some general points for the whole book in the prologue, so if you're not going to read any of the rest of it, that one alone will give you the gist. You can see my will to live declining chapter by chapter as I get more angry with the book, hahaha. Honestly, go and read Carrie's first two books, they're better, I promise.

In the prologue, we fittingly get an overture; the author waxes lyrical about the magic of theatre, and we are told that once a year at the Southern Cross Theatre, an old “stage door man” called Walter converses with the ghost of an actress through a mirror, before a vision of her onstage death is re-enacted. At the end of the prologue, Walter discovers via email that the production in which the actress (Fawn) died, “When The Curtain Falls”, is to be revived at the Southern Cross, sixty-six years later. Concerned, he asks Fawn to “play nice”, as she is in the habit of haunting and causing trouble backstage at the best of times. Walter then finds out who is playing Fawn’s role, Eliza, and says aloud to himself that new actress Olive Green might be sorry she ever agreed to the role.

There are good points to the prologue-it’s the book’s highlight. There is an admirable attempt at tension, which is very hard to write, and the mystery is fairly intriguing. Carrie’s passion for the theatre and storytelling definitely comes through, and I felt genuine sadness when Walter was ashamed of how old he had grown while ghostly Fawn is forever youthful, feeling he’d failed her.

However, small, easily addressable issues with Carrie’s writing begin to show from the start. The most prevalent is that all of her character sound the same-in short, they sound like Carrie. I’ve found this with all of her books (admittedly I’ve not read the latest two, so she might have improved)-every character sounds like Carrie in a different wig. It’s as if every single character in Friends said “How you doing?”. Her style of speaking, which is lovely coming from her-an articulate, slightly old-fashioned manner with plenty of metaphors, similes, and anecdotes-does not sound natural coming from every single character, regardless of background, personality, gender, and situation. Admittedly, there is an attempt at writing a different pattern of speech later for Toby, the stunt co-ordinator-he says things like “dunnit” (doesn’t it) and “bitta” (bit of), but that’s as far as it goes-it feels a bit cheap and forced, almost as if Toby himself is faking an accent like Dick van Dyke in Mary Poppins. All the characters simply have the same patterns and style of speaking (Carrie’s style) and it gets quite draining.

The other issue I find in the book as a whole that starts in the prologue is the unnatural, over-explanation. What I mean by that is unnatural dialogue being shoehorned in for the benefit of the audience to explain what’s going on instead of letting the audience discover things for ourselves. It’s almost as if some characters turn to the camera, like The Office, and say “This is this thing. It happens because of this thing. Got that? Good.” An excellent example of this happens in the prologue. In the email, straight after we see the ghostly re-enaction of the play’s climax and Fawn’s death, we are told that yes indeed “When The Curtain Falls” played at the Southern Cross before, and yes indeed, there was an accident, you got that? There was absolutely no need for the explanation-any child could have figured out the connection. Carrie would have done much better to have provided a shorter email saying that the revival is happening, and to let Walter’s reaction speak for itself. I know books need a certain degree of exposition, but if Carrie’s books were a little more subtle, they would be a hundred times better. There are countless examples of this through the book, and it’s a shame, because they really break your immersion into the world of the story.

Just two more quick points before I move on-I wanted to mention Walter speaking aloud to himself at the end of the prologue when Olive Green is named for the first time. Obviously the writer wanted to get Olive introduced in a dramatic way, but Walter isn’t the only character to talk aloud to himself about Olive when alone, and it is so unnatural. It could easily have been presented as thoughts in their heads, but no, they talk aloud to no one for the benefit of an invisible audience, and it’s very jarring. If I knew them, I’d be concerned for their wellbeing.

Lastly, I wanted to mention the nouns. Carrie has a habit of naming her characters and places in her books sickly sweet names, which is her prerogative, but honestly the naming in this novel for some reason annoyed me more than the others. The Southern Cross Theatre?! I seriously invite you to google the names of London theatres now, and see that, if the Southern Cross was real, one of these things would not be like the others. The only way I can make it work logically is if Carrie had invented a fictional place in London called Southern Cross, and the theatre was named after the location, but I don’t think we ever get such an explanation. Especially as the theatre is specifically on Shaftsbury Avenue. I wondered if it might mean “cross” as an allusion to a headstone shaped like a cross, because the theatre is haunted? But that’s the best I can do. Additionally in the prologue, the production company putting on “When The Curtain Falls” is called “Toastie Productions”. Toastie Productions?! I know production companies be naming themselves dumb things, but the only explanation I can think of for this is that Carrie must have been eating a toastie at the time. Again, this is a constant through the novel.

Chapter One-Enjoy

Prior to Chapter One, we get an entire page of a poster advertising “When The Curtain Falls” at the Southern Cross. Nothing wrong with this, it’s a good way to get exposition across, but it renders Walter’s email in the previous chapter, which gave details about the production including dates and times, even more redundant. I don’t mind that the production is by a “C.H. Fletcher”, I found it humorous, but make what you will of that. The issue I have with the poster is that Olive Green’s name is listed above Oscar Bright’s. Now, Oscar is the famous one, as we find out in Chapter Two, and presumably he’s the name putting butts on seats, so why is Olive’s name first? It isn’t even alphabetical. I don’t know if there’s some kind of theatre tradition where the leading lady is named first, but it just seems weird to me.

Oscar has “short black hair” and a “big toothy smile” so I’ll leave you to wonder who he might be inspired by. He and Olive are carrying out an illicit, secret affair, meeting at the “crack of dawn” (8:55) to avoid the prying eyes of the press and the rumour mill of the West End. Olive is concerned that Oscar is embarrassed to be with her, but he insists he isn’t, and that he’s just trying to avoid the press after a public breakup with a high-profile girlfriend called Zadie. If you ask me, that’s a Strallen name (Zizi, Scarlett, Summer, Sasi…you wouldn’t blink if Zadie was there too). In case you didn’t know, Oscar-I mean Oliver’s-ex is Summer. Anyway, you get the picture. Next, we’re treated to a LONG, and I mean long, monologue from the narrator, exalting Olive’s virtues which she never displays herself. It’s textbook telling, not showing. It’s all about how Olive is a lovely, special person whose career started with immediate ***leading-role*** success straight after drama school, and her only flaw is letting people take advantage of her. That’s a very Mary Sue kind of flaw, and not really a flaw in her but in everyone around her. At one point, someone tells her not to set herself on fire to keep others warm, which I’m sure Carrie has shared on Instagram before. If this is true, you can kind of see why Olive would be worried that Oscar might be taking advantage of her too, but this could have all been laid out much more gradually and subtly. They have breakfast together, and the world and their wife fancy Oscar, but he likes Olive because she’s so different to everyone else-she treats him like a human, because he is one. Revolutionary.

Remember how we got a long, awkward monologue introducing Olive? Round Two Electric Boogaloo for Oscar. He’s basically a soap star who quit to go onto bigger and better things, and lo and behold, it didn’t work out. I quite like this, actually-it feels realistic, and it brings him down a peg, which makes him easier to warm to. We delve into the past where Olive and Oscar first meet, along with the rest of the new cast for WTCF. Tamara, a girl in the ensemble with her eyes on Oscar, asks him who in the cast he would sleep with if held at gunpoint, which I might have suggested was foreshadowing (the weapon in the play is a gun) in any other book. I don’t think he gives a straight answer, but it’s an opportunity for Tamara and Jane (Olive’s first cover) to openly flirt with him. Meanwhile, for some unknown reason, Doug (Olive’s friend who lives to praise her) starts dancing with Olive, and whispers that he thinks Oscar fancies her. The cast then talks about theatre ghosts, and how every theatre has one, with varying degrees of scepticism, but the general consensus is that a wise actor (like Olive, obvs) is wary of theatre ghosts because if you piss them off they can make your life hell. Just as another general point, Olive estimates that they have “four to six minutes” before the director tells them off for chatting. A writer should never be that specific, it sounds dumb. Just say five minutes.

Anyway, the cast go out to a club, and Olive doesn’t want to be there because she’s too deep and cool for clubbing. The bartender happens to recognise her, by the way, because of course he does, her being the most special person ever to have lived, and gives her a free drink. Olive looks down on Jane and Tamara for pole dancing (sounds like fun!) and wearing “slinky dresses and high heels”, which she herself would never wear. So Olive and Oscar ditch the club and go back to Oscar’s flat. Oscar calls her “Miss Green” a lot, which made me cringe, tbh, it’s that weird, old-fashioned tone all the characters have. They make out, and honestly I skipped over most of description of these two eels thrashing around. I’m not a prude, just gay and tired of these idiots.

So the very first line of this chapter announces that Olive managed to buy a flat in London at twenty-two, which she complains about the size of sometimes, so others have to remind her how lucky she is to have it. I’m not going to say this was probably inspired by real events, make your own decisions. Olive has a little chat with herself in the kitchen, OUT LOUD, as I mentioned in the general points. It’s so jarring when she wonders “Does he like me?” etc aloud, when it could so easily be presented as thoughts in her head. Meanwhile, over in Bow, OSCAR IS DOING THE SAME THING. Sitting around alone, talking to himself “Olive Green…is there anything this girl can’t do?” He actually says that. I’ve never sat around talking aloud to myself. Maybe I’m the weird one after all.

So this is the chapter with the infamous coffee scene, where Olive, Oscar, and Jane go to grab coffee and Olive looks down on Jane, her first cover, for ordering some iced peppermint mocha frap. Granted it sounds pretty gross, but girl, you live your life and drink whatever you want. But this scene is so much more contrived than that. While Jane is in the loo, Oscar and Olive have a brief chat and again fail to define their relationship. I do think Oscar is being a bit annoying at this point, not wanting to give Olive a label so that if he wants to jump ship she can’t complain, but we’ve had so many of these will they/won’t they scenes already. In another contrived move, Oscar then goes to the loo, leaving Jane the perfect opportunity to be one-dimensionally bitchy to poor old flat-owning, lead-landing Olive. Jane bitches that Oscar blew Olive a kiss and that Tamara is going to be “furious with you…making him blow you kisses”. She is such a cartoon villain, none of her dialogue is natural, and I actually feel quite sorry for her to be honest. And its Olive that makes me feel that way about the person we’re supposed to take her side over. Olive is so condescending towards her, treating her like a naughty child-she directly calls her childish in a previous chapter. Is it any wonder that Jane doesn’t like her? Granted Jane expecting Olive to pay for her drink is very presumptive and rude, but honestly, I don’t know a single person who would expect someone they’ve just met to pay for their expensive coffee order. Maybe I know disproportionally decent people, who knows. But the whole scene doesn’t happen organically and feels forced and contrived.

Later in the chapter, for the first time, Oscar really pisses me off, telling Olive that they were right to be rude to Jane because “she’s young and never going to learn she can’t always get what she wants if people don’t teach her.” It’s SO PATRONISING. Urgh. That’s my verdict on this chapter: Urgh.

Oscar says he chooses Olive, while still being a commitment-phobe, and Olive references Pokemon in a very Carrie way.

Oscar gets acquainted with his onstage gun, and forcedly working-class Toby the stunt co-ordinator (Dick van Dyke guy I mentioned in the general points) gives him a run-down of the ghost story. Honestly, the way Toby calls the director “big boss man” really put the ick in me for some reason. This is yet another explanation of the story that was laid out pretty plainly for us in the prologue, and it’s fairly unnecessary. Fawn Burrows was shot sixty-odd years ago because some idiots used a real gun during a production of WTCF-we get it. It’s hinted that it might not have been an accident-we know.

A mercifully short chapter ends with a comment about guns looking safe when they’re not in the hands of fools. I think it’s supposed to be profound, but I would argue that guns always look FREAKING TERRIFYING. Maybe because in my country there is strict control so I haven’t ever actually seen one in the flesh, but I think they look very sinister. Anyway, I’m not here to get political, I’m here to summarise.


The show is almost upon us. Tamara and Jane are bitchy to another dancer called Sam because she’s a little bigger than them. Carrie actually describes her pretty nicely, “thick thighs and strong arms…the way she moved was second to none”, but obviously not-skinny Sam isn’t perceived as a threat by Olive, so we’re allowed to like her. But obviously cartoon villains J and T call her a whale, so Sam shows herself to be yet another Carrie with another wig, doing an over-the-top gotcha! comeback which feels like the kind of thing you think of later and wish you’d have said at the time. It’s a bit of wish-fulfilment, I think.

Anyway, Oscar says “leave the girls to it, if they want to fight, let them fight without encouragement from us (the guys)”. Which just feels patronising again with a little sexism thrown in on top! I’m starting to really hate Oscar and his sanctimonious displays. He and Olive deserve each other.

The technical rehearsal gets underway, and it’s stressful because I hear they always are. The cast are quite convincingly worried that they won’t be ready to open in time, which I can imagine would be the case for many shows. I enjoyed the image of the stressed director pulling his hair in all directions-me doing my degree, lol.

But then, we get an extract of the play script itself. I’m not sure why Carrie included it, but fair dos, it’s basically creating more work for herself, so fair enough. Unfortunately, there is no change of tone between the novel and the script-they feel as if they’re being written by the same person. I’ve not read many scripts in my time, but from memories of studying them at school, I don’t think stage directions tend to last more than a page?? There’s more than an ENTIRE PAGE of stage directions alone-really specific stage directions at that. I think this is Carrie helping us as readers to understand exactly what would happen if we were watching the play, but we’re supposed to be just reading the script. Carrie should have taken a break from the script after the dialogue, described what the actors were doing onstage as a narrator, then gone back into the dialogue of the play.

Olive meets Walter. He is friendly, if a little odd. However, when Olive goes back to the stage, he does my FAVOURITE THING in this book and TALKS ALOUD TO HIMSELF. He basically shakes his fist at the sky and moans “Why did they have to cast someone who looks so much like Fawn!” Just to drive the parallel home even more.

Olive and Oscar make plans to see each other, but Olive is adamant that it can’t just be about sex, which is fair, tbh, if that’s what she wants. I have to say, the amount of times the word “sex” is said in this scene is a little jarring-like, look at me in my adult book with characters who have SEX! Although in fairness, I much prefer the word “sex” to cringey metaphors about it. We find out that Olive once had a thing with her leading man in Little Shop of Horrors, and it ended with the guy two-timing her with another actress (being a “starfucker”, shagging his way to the top). The other actress is called Rosanna Lime, by the way. It’s my least favourite name so far.

Oscar gets recognised by a schoolgirl on the tube, and Olive looks down on her for her short skirt and high heels. The teenager says “my mates are gonna be well jel”. I quite enjoyed the attempt at teenage dialogue, as it did make a change, but was also an adult trying to emulate teenage speech rather than actual teenage speech, if that makes sense? It was very “how do you do, fellow kids?” Carrie also uses this chapter to explain that actors are paid the same no matter how many tickets are sold, and that Oscar being stunt-cast doesn’t matter because there’s no way he’d have been cast if he wasn’t actually good. These are both fair enough to be honest, but again, it just felt like Carrie talking.

Back at Oscar’s flat, Olive calls a gin a Ginny Weasley, which again just sounds like Carrie. There is no characterisation here. They sleep together, but oh no, a picture of them kissing in public has gone viral on Twitter. A soap actor kissing an unknown stage actress? Front page news, I should think. Whatever will they do?
 
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Carrieisabadwriter

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I'm going to sound like a negative Nancy here but I take comments claiming they know her with a grain of salt. Not that it's not possible for her to be a whole nightmare, I just think it's too easy to claim something
 
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ChubbRub

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Ok who said this? 😂
It was me on a throwaway account and I was surprised at how quickly she put that in her story 😂. Felt a bit bad after 🙈 but I'm sure she is getting lots of messages telling her how great she is and how mean and wrong whoever sent her that is.

And yes she blocked that account, unsurprisingly.
 
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They're counting on ALW's name as a draw and...Carrie. She is the star and they think that's enough to pull in an audience.
Why even call it Cinderella at this point. Its missing all of Cinderellas hallmarks, she isn't a kind beautiful soul who is abused by her family, she isn't rewarded because of her kindness, she isnt anything like any version of Cinderella. He should have just made an original play instead of trying to make bank on the Cinderella name...
 
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bumblebee1696

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She’s posted that video again where she tells people that if they think they’ve had a bad experience with her, they’re wrong. 😂Gaslighting much. Carrie, just accept that you’re not always as nice to people as you think you are! A lot of people’s bad experiences of you are genuine! Why can’t you accept that sometimes YOU are the problem?? Very egotistical behaviour.
 
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ChubbRub

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Someone needs to tell Carrie that it's okay not to read, but it's a bit weird to make reading and how bookish you are a large portion of your personality when you continually make it clear that you don't actually read that much.
 
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Thank you so much for saying that, you didn't have to, so you were very kind to do so! Welcome back.

So I've gone and started a chapter by chapter summary of When The Curtain Falls. This is the prologue to Chapter Five. There are twenty-one chapters, so I'll do the rest down the line at some point if there is any interest. I've put each chapter summary in a spoiler to avoid clogging up the timeline for those who aren't interested. I put some general points for the whole book in the prologue, so if you're not going to read any of the rest of it, that one alone will give you the gist. You can see my will to live declining chapter by chapter as I get more angry with the book, hahaha. Honestly, go and read Carrie's first two books, they're better, I promise.

In the prologue, we fittingly get an overture; the author waxes lyrical about the magic of theatre, and we are told that once a year at the Southern Cross Theatre, an old “stage door man” called Walter converses with the ghost of an actress through a mirror, before a vision of her onstage death is re-enacted. At the end of the prologue, Walter discovers via email that the production in which the actress (Fawn) died, “When The Curtain Falls”, is to be revived at the Southern Cross, sixty-six years later. Concerned, he asks Fawn to “play nice”, as she is in the habit of haunting and causing trouble backstage at the best of times. Walter then finds out who is playing Fawn’s role, Eliza, and says aloud to himself that new actress Olive Green might be sorry she ever agreed to the role.

There are good points to the prologue-it’s the book’s highlight. There is an admirable attempt at tension, which is very hard to write, and the mystery is fairly intriguing. Carrie’s passion for the theatre and storytelling definitely comes through, and I felt genuine sadness when Walter was ashamed of how old he had grown while ghostly Fawn is forever youthful, feeling he’d failed her.

However, small, easily addressable issues with Carrie’s writing begin to show from the start. The most prevalent is that all of her character sound the same-in short, they sound like Carrie. I’ve found this with all of her books (admittedly I’ve not read the latest two, so she might have improved)-every character sounds like Carrie in a different wig. It’s as if every single character in Friends said “How you doing?”. Her style of speaking, which is lovely coming from her-an articulate, slightly old-fashioned manner with plenty of metaphors, similes, and anecdotes-does not sound natural coming from every single character, regardless of background, personality, gender, and situation. Admittedly, there is an attempt at writing a different pattern of speech later for Toby, the stunt co-ordinator-he says things like “dunnit” (doesn’t it) and “bitta” (bit of), but that’s as far as it goes-it feels a bit cheap and forced, almost as if Toby himself is faking an accent like Dick van Dyke in Mary Poppins. All the characters simply have the same patterns and style of speaking (Carrie’s style) and it gets quite draining.

The other issue I find in the book as a whole that starts in the prologue is the unnatural, over-explanation. What I mean by that is unnatural dialogue being shoehorned in for the benefit of the audience to explain what’s going on instead of letting the audience discover things for ourselves. It’s almost as if some characters turn to the camera, like The Office, and say “This is this thing. It happens because of this thing. Got that? Good.” An excellent example of this happens in the prologue. In the email, straight after we see the ghostly re-enaction of the play’s climax and Fawn’s death, we are told that yes indeed “When The Curtain Falls” played at the Southern Cross before, and yes indeed, there was an accident, you got that? There was absolutely no need for the explanation-any child could have figured out the connection. Carrie would have done much better to have provided a shorter email saying that the revival is happening, and to let Walter’s reaction speak for itself. I know books need a certain degree of exposition, but if Carrie’s books were a little more subtle, they would be a hundred times better. There are countless examples of this through the book, and it’s a shame, because they really break your immersion into the world of the story.

Just two more quick points before I move on-I wanted to mention Walter speaking aloud to himself at the end of the prologue when Olive Green is named for the first time. Obviously the writer wanted to get Olive introduced in a dramatic way, but Walter isn’t the only character to talk aloud to himself about Olive when alone, and it is so unnatural. It could easily have been presented as thoughts in their heads, but no, they talk aloud to no one for the benefit of an invisible audience, and it’s very jarring. If I knew them, I’d be concerned for their wellbeing.

Lastly, I wanted to mention the nouns. Carrie has a habit of naming her characters and places in her books sickly sweet names, which is her prerogative, but honestly the naming in this novel for some reason annoyed me more than the others. The Southern Cross Theatre?! I seriously invite you to google the names of London theatres now, and see that, if the Southern Cross was real, one of these things would not be like the others. The only way I can make it work logically is if Carrie had invented a fictional place in London called Southern Cross, and the theatre was named after the location, but I don’t think we ever get such an explanation. Especially as the theatre is specifically on Shaftsbury Avenue. I wondered if it might mean “cross” as an allusion to a headstone shaped like a cross, because the theatre is haunted? But that’s the best I can do. Additionally in the prologue, the production company putting on “When The Curtain Falls” is called “Toastie Productions”. Toastie Productions?! I know production companies be naming themselves dumb things, but the only explanation I can think of for this is that Carrie must have been eating a toastie at the time. Again, this is a constant through the novel.

Chapter One-Enjoy

Prior to Chapter One, we get an entire page of a poster advertising “When The Curtain Falls” at the Southern Cross. Nothing wrong with this, it’s a good way to get exposition across, but it renders Walter’s email in the previous chapter, which gave details about the production including dates and times, even more redundant. I don’t mind that the production is by a “C.H. Fletcher”, I found it humorous, but make what you will of that. The issue I have with the poster is that Olive Green’s name is listed above Oscar Bright’s. Now, Oscar is the famous one, as we find out in Chapter Two, and presumably he’s the name putting butts on seats, so why is Olive’s name first? It isn’t even alphabetical. I don’t know if there’s some kind of theatre tradition where the leading lady is named first, but it just seems weird to me.

Oscar has “short black hair” and a “big toothy smile” so I’ll leave you to wonder who he might be inspired by. He and Olive are carrying out an illicit, secret affair, meeting at the “crack of dawn” (8:55) to avoid the prying eyes of the press and the rumour mill of the West End. Olive is concerned that Oscar is embarrassed to be with her, but he insists he isn’t, and that he’s just trying to avoid the press after a public breakup with a high-profile girlfriend called Zadie. If you ask me, that’s a Strallen name (Zizi, Scarlett, Summer, Sasi…you wouldn’t blink if Zadie was there too). In case you didn’t know, Oscar-I mean Oliver’s-ex is Summer. Anyway, you get the picture. Next, we’re treated to a LONG, and I mean long, monologue from the narrator, exalting Olive’s virtues which she never displays herself. It’s textbook telling, not showing. It’s all about how Olive is a lovely, special person whose career started with immediate ***leading-role*** success straight after drama school, and her only flaw is letting people take advantage of her. That’s a very Mary Sue kind of flaw, and not really a flaw in her but in everyone around her. At one point, someone tells her not to set herself on fire to keep others warm, which I’m sure Carrie has shared on Instagram before. If this is true, you can kind of see why Olive would be worried that Oscar might be taking advantage of her too, but this could have all been laid out much more gradually and subtly. They have breakfast together, and the world and their wife fancy Oscar, but he likes Olive because she’s so different to everyone else-she treats him like a human, because he is one. Revolutionary.

Remember how we got a long, awkward monologue introducing Olive? Round Two Electric Boogaloo for Oscar. He’s basically a soap star who quit to go onto bigger and better things, and lo and behold, it didn’t work out. I quite like this, actually-it feels realistic, and it brings him down a peg, which makes him easier to warm to. We delve into the past where Olive and Oscar first meet, along with the rest of the new cast for WTCF. Tamara, a girl in the ensemble with her eyes on Oscar, asks him who in the cast he would sleep with if held at gunpoint, which I might have suggested was foreshadowing (the weapon in the play is a gun) in any other book. I don’t think he gives a straight answer, but it’s an opportunity for Tamara and Jane (Olive’s first cover) to openly flirt with him. Meanwhile, for some unknown reason, Doug (Olive’s friend who lives to praise her) starts dancing with Olive, and whispers that he thinks Oscar fancies her. The cast then talks about theatre ghosts, and how every theatre has one, with varying degrees of scepticism, but the general consensus is that a wise actor (like Olive, obvs) is wary of theatre ghosts because if you piss them off they can make your life hell. Just as another general point, Olive estimates that they have “four to six minutes” before the director tells them off for chatting. A writer should never be that specific, it sounds dumb. Just say five minutes.

Anyway, the cast go out to a club, and Olive doesn’t want to be there because she’s too deep and cool for clubbing. The bartender happens to recognise her, by the way, because of course he does, her being the most special person ever to have lived, and gives her a free drink. Olive looks down on Jane and Tamara for pole dancing (sounds like fun!) and wearing “slinky dresses and high heels”, which she herself would never wear. So Olive and Oscar ditch the club and go back to Oscar’s flat. Oscar calls her “Miss Green” a lot, which made me cringe, tbh, it’s that weird, old-fashioned tone all the characters have. They make out, and honestly I skipped over most of description of these two eels thrashing around. I’m not a prude, just gay and tired of these idiots.

So the very first line of this chapter announces that Olive managed to buy a flat in London at twenty-two, which she complains about the size of sometimes, so others have to remind her how lucky she is to have it. I’m not going to say this was probably inspired by real events, make your own decisions. Olive has a little chat with herself in the kitchen, OUT LOUD, as I mentioned in the general points. It’s so jarring when she wonders “Does he like me?” etc aloud, when it could so easily be presented as thoughts in her head. Meanwhile, over in Bow, OSCAR IS DOING THE SAME THING. Sitting around alone, talking to himself “Olive Green…is there anything this girl can’t do?” He actually says that. I’ve never sat around talking aloud to myself. Maybe I’m the weird one after all.

So this is the chapter with the infamous coffee scene, where Olive, Oscar, and Jane go to grab coffee and Olive looks down on Jane, her first cover, for ordering some iced peppermint mocha frap. Granted it sounds pretty gross, but girl, you live your life and drink whatever you want. But this scene is so much more contrived than that. While Jane is in the loo, Oscar and Olive have a brief chat and again fail to define their relationship. I do think Oscar is being a bit annoying at this point, not wanting to give Olive a label so that if he wants to jump ship she can’t complain, but we’ve had so many of these will they/won’t they scenes already. In another contrived move, Oscar then goes to the loo, leaving Jane the perfect opportunity to be one-dimensionally bitchy to poor old flat-owning, lead-landing Olive. Jane bitches that Oscar blew Olive a kiss and that Tamara is going to be “furious with you…making him blow you kisses”. She is such a cartoon villain, none of her dialogue is natural, and I actually feel quite sorry for her to be honest. And its Olive that makes me feel that way about the person we’re supposed to take her side over. Olive is so condescending towards her, treating her like a naughty child-she directly calls her childish in a previous chapter. Is it any wonder that Jane doesn’t like her? Granted Jane expecting Olive to pay for her drink is very presumptive and rude, but honestly, I don’t know a single person who would expect someone they’ve just met to pay for their expensive coffee order. Maybe I know disproportionally decent people, who knows. But the whole scene doesn’t happen organically and feels forced and contrived.

Later in the chapter, for the first time, Oscar really pisses me off, telling Olive that they were right to be rude to Jane because “she’s young and never going to learn she can’t always get what she wants if people don’t teach her.” It’s SO PATRONISING. Urgh. That’s my verdict on this chapter: Urgh.

Oscar says he chooses Olive, while still being a commitment-phobe, and Olive references Pokemon in a very Carrie way.

Oscar gets acquainted with his onstage gun, and forcedly working-class Toby the stunt co-ordinator (Dick van Dyke guy I mentioned in the general points) gives him a run-down of the ghost story. Honestly, the way Toby calls the director “big boss man” really put the ick in me for some reason. This is yet another explanation of the story that was laid out pretty plainly for us in the prologue, and it’s fairly unnecessary. Fawn Burrows was shot sixty-odd years ago because some idiots used a real gun during a production of WTCF-we get it. It’s hinted that it might not have been an accident-we know.

A mercifully short chapter ends with a comment about guns looking safe when they’re not in the hands of fools. I think it’s supposed to be profound, but I would argue that guns always look FREAKING TERRIFYING. Maybe because in my country there is strict control so I haven’t ever actually seen one in the flesh, but I think they look very sinister. Anyway, I’m not here to get political, I’m here to summarise.


The show is almost upon us. Tamara and Jane are bitchy to another dancer called Sam because she’s a little bigger than them. Carrie actually describes her pretty nicely, “thick thighs and strong arms…the way she moved was second to none”, but obviously not-skinny Sam isn’t perceived as a threat by Olive, so we’re allowed to like her. But obviously cartoon villains J and T call her a whale, so Sam shows herself to be yet another Carrie with another wig, doing an over-the-top gotcha! comeback which feels like the kind of thing you think of later and wish you’d have said at the time. It’s a bit of wish-fulfilment, I think.

Anyway, Oscar says “leave the girls to it, if they want to fight, let them fight without encouragement from us (the guys)”. Which just feels patronising again with a little sexism thrown in on top! I’m starting to really hate Oscar and his sanctimonious displays. He and Olive deserve each other.

The technical rehearsal gets underway, and it’s stressful because I hear they always are. The cast are quite convincingly worried that they won’t be ready to open in time, which I can imagine would be the case for many shows. I enjoyed the image of the stressed director pulling his hair in all directions-me doing my degree, lol.

But then, we get an extract of the play script itself. I’m not sure why Carrie included it, but fair dos, it’s basically creating more work for herself, so fair enough. Unfortunately, there is no change of tone between the novel and the script-they feel as if they’re being written by the same person. I’ve not read many scripts in my time, but from memories of studying them at school, I don’t think stage directions tend to last more than a page?? There’s more than an ENTIRE PAGE of stage directions alone-really specific stage directions at that. I think this is Carrie helping us as readers to understand exactly what would happen if we were watching the play, but we’re supposed to be just reading the script. Carrie should have taken a break from the script after the dialogue, described what the actors were doing onstage as a narrator, then gone back into the dialogue of the play.

Olive meets Walter. He is friendly, if a little odd. However, when Olive goes back to the stage, he does my FAVOURITE THING in this book and TALKS ALOUD TO HIMSELF. He basically shakes his fist at the sky and moans “Why did they have to cast someone who looks so much like Fawn!” Just to drive the parallel home even more.

Olive and Oscar make plans to see each other, but Olive is adamant that it can’t just be about sex, which is fair, tbh, if that’s what she wants. I have to say, the amount of times the word “sex” is said in this scene is a little jarring-like, look at me in my adult book with characters who have SEX! Although in fairness, I much prefer the word “sex” to cringey metaphors about it. We find out that Olive once had a thing with her leading man in Little Shop of Horrors, and it ended with the guy two-timing her with another actress (being a “starfucker”, shagging his way to the top). The other actress is called Rosanna Lime, by the way. It’s my least favourite name so far.

Oscar gets recognised by a schoolgirl on the tube, and Olive looks down on her for her short skirt and high heels. The teenager says “my mates are gonna be well jel”. I quite enjoyed the attempt at teenage dialogue, as it did make a change, but was also an adult trying to emulate teenage speech rather than actual teenage speech, if that makes sense? It was very “how do you do, fellow kids?” Carrie also uses this chapter to explain that actors are paid the same no matter how many tickets are sold, and that Oscar being stunt-cast doesn’t matter because there’s no way he’d have been cast if he wasn’t actually good. These are both fair enough to be honest, but again, it just felt like Carrie talking.

Back at Oscar’s flat, Olive calls a gin a Ginny Weasley, which again just sounds like Carrie. There is no characterisation here. They sleep together, but oh no, a picture of them kissing in public has gone viral on Twitter. A soap actor kissing an unknown stage actress? Front page news, I should think. Whatever will they do?
So here are the next few chapters, up to halfway through the book. I'll try and get the rest of the chapters up soon, studying and socials permitting, but I have to say I'm enjoying this book summary business, and I hope others are too! Again, all the chapters are in spoilers so as to not clog up the feed. Honestly, I don't think Carrie is the worst writer in the world, but she needs, as someone said on here, a harsher editor. Here we go!

So Oscar is doing “damage control” after the viral photo. Zadie, the ex, has retweeted it, and Oscar calls her “my crazy ex”, so that’s nice and not misogynistic phrasing at all. Olive has had to delete her own twitter due to death threats, which is horrible, and the first time in the book I genuinely feel for her. There’s some good stuff in this chapter about their relationship remaining undefined, and Olive not wanting to be a dirty little secret, but it’s just too long-winded and needed editing down.

Carrie also makes much better usage of the extracts of play script in this chapter, using them as an aide to the narration rather than replacing the narration with the script. I think this is the effect she wanted in the previous chapter with the playscript, and I actually quite enjoyed it. Props.

But soon, the two Os are back on their bullshit. Olive clashes with the director over his vision (he thinks her character should cry at one point and she disagrees) and she actually calls him “stupid” for it, which brings me onto another point. I don’t know much about how theatres work, but everyone in the cast and crew are still technically work colleagues, right? And yet they all treat each other with such unprofessionalism. If someone in an office treated other people the way these characters treat each other, I’m pretty sure they’d be up before HR. Maybe theatre is different, but it seems really odd to me. Anyway, Olive announces that once the director is gone and the run has begun she’s just going to do whatever she wants anyway, which seems to defeat the point of having a director???

Anyway, so basically the second half of the chapter is Tamara inviting Oscar out for a drink, him refusing her, only to get into a contrived argument with Olive where she tells him sarcastically to go and get off with Tamara if that’s what he wants. So guess what? He totally goes and does it.

Olive is crying in her dressing room and gets a spook when one of the lightbulbs mysteriously bursts. I’m glad the ghost plot is returning, it’s what I bought my ticket for. Anyway, she exits the theatre and comes upon a local pub, outside which Doug grabs her and tries to lead her away so she won’t see what’s going on inside. There must have been a time jump between Oscar’s argument with Olive and now, but you’re a smarter person than me if you can find clear evidence for this in the text-I had to kind of guess, because now the rest of the cast are in the pub and roaring drunk. In the time it’s taken Olive to have a cry and take off her makeup, they’re absolutely bladdered. The cast of WTCF must be the biggest lightweight drinkers in the world. Confused? Me too. Anyway…

Olive looks through the window of the pub to see Oscar getting off with Tamara. Despite him displaying no interest in her before then, despite twin idiots O and O being clearly in love…it feels so forced. The romantic tussle is described thusly: Oscar “tried to wrap his arms around Tamara’s tall and bony frame, as though he didn’t know how to hold someone who didn’t fit so well in his embrace.” Alright, so Tamara’s weight is the only significant thing about her again. Later in the chapter, Olive moans that Oscar always gets off with women like Tamara instead of women like her, so why would he have a problem holding her? If you feel like this chapter has escalated quickly, you’d be right.

O1 and O2 have a confrontation in the street, where Olive reveals she’s got a lot of insecurity about how she looks, compared to how people like Tamara look, in the fight for Oscar’s affections. Even though it’s well-established that Olive is very beautiful, even looking just like classic beauty Fawn, who we’ll meet in a minute. It’s all about looks, and “skinny” equals being a shallow bitch. Olive also whines that she’s special and not like other girls because she talks about more than Love Island and celebrities. Right, because only Olive is a complex person with many interests and all other women are exactly the same. Gah. Sorry, this just annoys me.

In a cheesy moment, the minute Orange and Onion announce that their relationship is over, the lights outside the theatre burst and go out. Just like in the dressing room. Oooh. The end. I wish. We’re not even halfway through this book.

At the end of the chapter, we meet Walter again. He is one of the better written characters, and comes across well as a nice old man haunted by the past. To his surprise, despite her usually appearing only once a year, he sees Fawn’s ghost again. It’s quite an emotional scene, but when Walter asks what Fawn’s doing there, she retorts “well I don’t know the rules!” and it sounds jarringly comic in an otherwise serious scene. Not sure if it was meant to make me laugh, but I laughed.

We are met with another theatre poster, advertising the 1952 production of WTCF. Again, it’s a good use of the poster to establish the time shift. Props. The next few chapters are all set in the past, and in my humble opinion, the quality does improve. Carrie’s old-fashioned tone suits these characters much more than the modern ones, and I can feel that she enjoyed writing these sections. They’re by no means perfect, and the bit that pissed me off most in the whole book (don’t worry, I’ll put a CW before I discuss the sexual assault at any time) happens in the past, but otherwise I liked them much more. Seriously, props.

Remember how we got long clunky introductions for Ox and Ostrich, telling rather than showing? Welcome to rounds three and four for Walter and Fawn respectively. However, I like the description of streetwise young Walter. Still, the description of Walter growing up during the war does read a little bit like an elementary school World War Two project, listing of who participated in the war, evacuation of children, the Blitz, eating a lot of Spam, etc. It’s not bad, necessarily, but it’s a bit childlike, like, “Here’s everything my teacher wrote on the whiteboard! Top marks for me!” I hope you get the picture. It just could all have benefitted from being a little more subtle.

Walter works hard before he gets his job in theatre, which is admirable, if a little long-winded. As another general point, I’ve noticed that EVERY SINGLE older male character, in the past and present, refers to any younger male as “Boy”. I know some people do that, but everyone? And they do it a LOT. It just feels odd, like they all somehow have the same voice and speech patterns (which I’ve already discussed at length).

We meet the producer of WTCF, Hamish Boatwright, who is a piece of shit. The strong language is necessary, as you’ll find out. He is instantly established as a perv, creeping on the young leading lady Fawn Burrows. Walter, who is being trained as a stage door guy in the theatre, catches her eye by being the only man in the entire universe who isn’t a creep. I mean, fair enough.

We get a long description of Walter’s duties as a stage door guy, and it’s a good example of too much inconsequential detail in this book working both for and against the narrative. It’s good because it builds up a good picture, but the writing can become clunky and a bit pointless.

Lenny, Walter’s superior, is described as having a face like a strawberry. I enjoyed that image-I can picture that. But the thing about Lenny is that he’s VERY precious and defensive about theatre as a profession. I don’t know if all theatre people are like that, but it seems a bit extreme, and just feels like an excuse for Carrie to get on a soap box.

Hamish comes back and unsubtly flexes his authority for the second time in as many chapters. He’s a much more worthy villain than Tamara or Jane, but he’s still a cartoon villain-the kind who twirls his moustache and ties women to train tracks. Meanwhile, parallel to Oar and Orchid in the present, Walter and Fawn fall in love and have to hide it from the world. They’re much more likable than their modern counterparts, and I’m much more invested in them despite having only known them for a chapter.

*Trumpet fanfare, ceremonial flag waving* Time for Fawn’s intro. She’s a proto-feminist, which I can get behind. Again, I generally enjoyed her character description. We find out that Fawn is the Oscar of the couple-her role in WTCF was bought for her by her wealthy father, and producer Hamish instantly started creeping on her. It’s horrible, but props to Carrie for writing a character who physically makes your skin crawl-that’s an achievement. Fawn goes on to compare him to a character from specifically Disney’s Pinocchio, which takes us out of the moment and reminds us that we are indeed reading a book written by Carrie.

The description of Eddie the stage manager at the beginning of the chapter is a perfect example of where Carrie could easily improve her writing with only a little tweaking. He is instantly introduced to us as "young but experienced" in the same sentence as we find out his name. It would have been better if Carrie had initially described him as young, then we could have found out how experienced he was down the line through his actions. Anyway, it’s the last dress rehearsal, and Fawn is determined to prove that she wasn’t just cast because of who she is but because of her talent (even though she was, and Hamish even says it doesn’t matter how well she acts because she is pretty and paid for). But you show them, girl. I can’t hate Fawn.

CW-physical violence against a woman. I haven't gone into detail, but just in case

Hang on, I'm confused. There's a bit where Carrie's describing the dress rehearsal and something goes wrong where Hamish slips on Fawn's dress on stage. Is Hamish the producer or an actor??? Anyway, Hamish hates the rehearsal and slaps Fawn. It's horrible, but again, props to Carrie for writing a convincingly horrible scene. When the curtain falls on opening night (ah! Roll credits!), Walter and Fawn go to meetup secretly in the theatre like Ohio and Oklahoma in the present, and there's a bit of clumsy foreshadowing where they warn each other not to lean over the rafters too far or one of them might become a theatre ghost. The chapter ends with Hamish making Fawn go to an after party with an “I made you, I’ll break you!” which is sinister when you know what happens but cartoony if you don’t. In the next chapter, we're back in the present. Halfway through the book now and my will to live is at much less than fifty per cent, so let's see how this goes.
 
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Lilu22

VIP Member
Maybe I’m being too critical on her but I feel like she could’ve done a really heartfelt post about World Theatre Day but she gives us a picture of her flashing her bra
 
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Kiwi179

Well-known member
Hey guys,

Sorry to derail the thread with something really old but I’ve rediscovered something that’s irritated me quite a bit, I’m hoping I get my point across well. I was watching some of her older Disney world vlogs and these comments just really irritated me. She’s literally in Disney World (somewhere she’s been far more than the average Disney fan but ok sure) and she’s saying she doesn’t take holidays? I see what she’s saying but she’s literally vlogging a DISNEY WORLD HOLIDAY WITH HER FAMILY? Also something she thoroughly enjoys, she’s obsessed with Disney World. I wish that were my job. She’s very out of touch. 😂 I can’t really explain why this has annoyed me so much but it has. I could post a huge rant about how fortunate she is and her privilege, gifted trips and how she thinks she works harder than anyone else but I won’t bore everyone, it’s all been said before. Hope everyone sees where my frustration is coming from? 😂
 

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thisiscat

Chatty Member
I’ve just seen the stories Carrie put on Instagram about comparing Sarah Everard with what is happening in America!
That fact that she says other people are being ignorant shows how ignorant Carrie actually is.
In America, police officers are using their jobs as an excuse to shoot and kill people while on duty. ‘They were talking back so I shot them’ ‘their phone looked like a gun’ ‘he shot at us because we broke his door down but we didn’t know we had the wrong house and we shot back’ ‘I thought I was holding my taser’ etc and the system allows them to get away with it because it’s so deep rooted.
Sarah Everard was killed by someone who happened to work as a police officer. It was discovered after the fact- we don’t even know if he used his job to lure her, Sarah was kidnapped. In the US some of their police officers have gotten away with murders that have been filmed in daylight by either their own cop cams or members of the public.
It’s a completely different situation.
You cannot compare the police in the US and the UK. UK police don’t have guns. America’s southern states have deep rooted racism that wasn’t really happening in the UK. America had lawful segregation up to the 1970s. That didn’t happen in the UK. You just cannot compare.
In the UK, mental health workers are dispatched with the police in the appropriate situations- America has only just started doing that in reponse to the BLM protests and the talks of defunding the police.
Sorry for derailing- but Carrie needs to realise that she does not understand what is going on here. When I was watching Carrie’s insta story I was wondering what on earth she was going on about. Americas police training is basically shoot first ask questions later. What happened to Sarah Everard was a tragedy but not comparable in the slightest to what America is dealing with at the moment and has been going on since the 1800s!
 
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Divoka

Member
Omg hi guys that’s me lmao. I’ll be honest I hadn’t heard of this site until someone commented about it on my tiktok. I knew about GG from back when I was a YouTube tween. But hi and thanks for the love 🥰
Let us know how long it takes for Carrie to block you.
 
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tinpony

New member
I was in Les Mis as a child a couple years before Carrie joined the show, and I had LJ as my Cosette. I don't really follow Carrie on any social media (I don't think I ever have - she posts a lot and I don't love using Instagram anyway), but my friend sent me the tiktok that everyone's been talking about and led me to here. If Carrie was intending to be rude about LJ and her capability to play Jenna, I will be so upset. LJ was definitely the nicest adult I worked with during my time in the show, and I'm so glad that she is doing well at the moment because it is truly deserved. She was an amazing Jenna and I'm sure she's going to be an amazing Fantine. I've had maybe two experiences meeting Carrie and they were less than pleasant...
 
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Illogic_ally

Active member
I love the fact that the show hasn’t even opened yet, so other than initial set up production costs, all their budget would be going towards the marketing for the show. And this is the result.

On the bright side, I’ve just discovered that I’m wildly over qualified to run the marketing and media for a major west end show, so things are looking good for my career 😂
 
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bumblebee1696

Active member
How has Carrie managed to make the death of Sarah Everard and Daunte Wright about herself and her Instagram boundaries?? For fuck sake Carrie. I had been admiring the fact she was using her platform to talk about it but then it wasn’t long before it took a diversion to being a self congratulatory ‘Look how not racist I am’ and ‘I will block you’. In very bad taste Carrie. She wants far too much congratulations for talking about it when she should just talk about it and not expect a big pay on the back from her followers for it. Drives me insane when people do that. But it’s very Carrie.
 
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