h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Her birth name was Julie Wells, but her last name changed rather often. She traveled a lot, as her parents were entertainers in the music hall circuit. Her stepfather taught her to sing, unleashing a freakish voice that could do coloratura when she was but nine. Soon she was the family's breadwinner, which did a job on her young mind. Broadway and film roles came to her. She belatedly realized how she was sacrificing her happiness to keep her family afloat. A turbulent childhood gave way to a failed marriage, then a combined family in her second marriage. She lost her voice in her sixties.

While Julie was filming one of her last movies from the 1960s, she realized that there was a hole in her life. Other people wrote songs and lines for her to perform, but her own creativity was lying dormant. Her stepchildren challenged her to stop swearing so much. As a penalty, she promised to write a children's book for them.
Since then, she has co-written more than thirty books with her daughter. This is her resilience at work. Marriage fails? She finds another husband and works with him and her stepchildren. She is a born collaborator; she welcomes her daughter as a co-author. She loses her voice? She forges ahead with nonsinging roles. She
becomes honorary chair of National Library Week in 2008. Her latest book is called "Home work."

That's a lovely story. And a great example of how we could use closure to make it better. You've told us what we should think about Julie. But we'd really rather figure it out for ourselves.

'She belatedly realized how she was sacrificing her happiness to keep her family afloat.' '...she realized that there was a hole in her life.' 'This is her resilience at work.' 'She is a born collaborator.'

Don't TELL us that. SHOW us. 'She was sacrificing her happiness' is the conclusion we will draw after you tell us that, for example,

'She had millions of fans, but few real friends. She couldn't stop earning money long enough to go to university. Private tutors weren't a lot of help, even though her mother said, "Oh, you'll get a much better education from life out there."'

Show, don't tell, and the audience will be riveted. Present conclusions and they may yawn - you didn't give them any work to do!

Example from 'Better Call Saul'. In one episode, Kim the lawyer wants to watch 'To Kill a Mockingbird' on DVD. She tells her boyfriend that as a child, she wasn't in love with Gregory Peck. She wanted to BE Gregory Peck in that movie.

Next episode: Kim has been so sleep-deprived over the regional banking account that she had a car accident. Her arm is in a cast. Now she's looking pensively at all the little models of branch banks as her client praises her good work in making this financial empire possible.

At the end of the client meeting, she heads to the courthouse and signs up to do public defender work. We know why, but they didn't say anything about 'values' or 'reassessment of priorities'. Instead, we remember Gregory Peck and that car accident, and think about all those little model money factories...

(Poor Rhea Seehorn had her arm put in a cast every single morning of shooting for a whole season. They'd cut it off in the evening.)

I appreciate the helpful hints, Dmitri. It's a work in progress.

Sure, that's the idea of 'workshop'. You lay something out. You say, 'What this needs is...' You lop off a bit here, tuck in there...