"No Ordinary Life"

Born and raised on the east coast, Suzanne Redfearn moved to California when she was fifteen. She currently lives in Laguna Beach with her husband, their two kids, a Cockapoo named Cooper, and a cat named Motley. They own a restaurant in town called Lumberyard. Prior to becoming an author, Redfearn was an architect specializing in residential and commercial design. When not writing, she enjoys doing anything and everything with her family—skiing, golf, tennis, surfing, playing board games, and watching reality TV. Redfearn is an avid baseball fan. Her team is the Angels. She can also be found in the bleachers watching her kids’ sports or prowling the streets with her husband checking out the culinary scene of Orange County.

Redfearn applied the Page 69 Test to her new novel, No Ordinary Life, and reported the following:

Page 69 from No Ordinary Life is very representative of the novel. In this scene Faye and her four-year-old daughter have just finished auditioning for a television show with another boy. Molly did very well, the boy did not. The boy and his mom are walking out of the room when the page starts:

“Behind the garden shed, baby,” she says before the door closes, her voice shrill. “You forgot the word ‘garden.’”

He forgot more than that, but perhaps her memory is as bad as her son’s.

When the door closes, the man in the center leans back in his chair and peers at Molly over steepled fingers. “Do you sing?” he asks.

The man is not particularly handsome, his nose slightly large for his face, his chin slightly small, but he has a magnetism that causes the room to swirl around him. The others are glued to his words, and I find myself drawn to him as well. Even the heavy man beside him pays attention, looking up from his boredom as if suddenly Molly is interesting.

“Evewryone sings,” Molly answers.

“Will you sing something for us?” the woman says. “Anything you like.”

Molly tilts her head, and her mouth skews to the side, then she starts tapping her foot, and I know what’s coming, and it’s all I can do to control my snicker.

“Hey…ey…ey. Uh. Yeah, hey…ey…”

The three at the table blink rapidly, unsure what Molly’s singing, and even the heavy man smiles when Molly breaks into the chorus for “Play That Funky Music.”

When she finishes the chorus, the man in the center holds up his hand to stop her, a smile still on his face.

My heart bursts with joy and panic in equal measure. The competitive spirit in me applauds because I know Molly nailed it, while the annoying buzz from this morning returns, blaring at full volume because I’m uncertain what it is we’ve won.

“Thank you, Molly,” the woman says. “We’ll be in touch.”

“You’wre wewlcome,” Molly says with a small bow like Bo taught her to do after a performance.

I take her by the hand to lead her from the room.

“One more question,” the man in the center says, stopping us. He is looking at Molly’s sheet. “It says here you’re 53 inches, but that can’t be right. How tall are you?”

I swallow, frozen by the question. I have no idea how tall Molly is. I’m five-two, that’s sixty-two inches. Molly’s at least two feet shorter. Sixty-two minus twenty-four…I try to do the math in my head, but my brain won’t function. A mother should know this. What mother doesn’t know how tall her child is?

Molly saves me. She puts her hand on top of her head and drags it out to the air in front of her. “This tawll,” she says, then she turns and pulls me out the door.

Visit Suzanne Redfearn's website, Facebook page, and Twitter perch.

Coffee with a Canine: Suzanne Redfearn and Cooper.

My Book, The Movie: Hush Little Baby.

The Page 69 Test: Hush Little Baby.

--Marshal Zeringue