“What?”
“Yes, he pulled out. There’s a more lucrative sci-fi film he wants. You’ll still get to keep the first part of the option money, but this isn’t good.”
“What do we do?” I ask, setting my burger down in my lap and taking a long sip of Diet Coke.
“I’m going to make some calls. Our agency knows another director whomightbe open to the project. Just give me some time. But keep your phone on. I might need you to make a quick trip to New York.”
Two days later, I’m sitting in Sarah’s agency office getting ready to meet virtually withThe Catherine Sagadirector and present my fleshed-out book proposal for approval. I’ve only been to New York City one other time, and I’m always amazed at how sleek Sarah’s world is. The long conference table takes up most of the room with floor-to-ceiling windows. She has a snappily dressed assistant named Rory who brings her shiny pens and foamy cappuccinos. I’m sure he doesn’t blare Fox News segments from his desk.
Sarah sits beside me as she reads my latest ten-page proposal. She taps her pen and bites her lower lip thoughtfully. Mostly she nods and smiles at various moments. It’s only when she gets to the end that she pauses, tightens her mouth, and gives a long “Hmmm...”
“Well?”
She pats her elegant French knot at the back of her head and then taps the last sheet. “For the most part, I love it. You’ve spun quite the classic teen love triangle in the vein ofTwilightorVampire Diaries. It’s sexy, intoxicating, and depending on the decade or circumstance in the saga, she’s with Heathcliff or Linton. The passion and tensions and twists are really brilliant. I love the general plot of battles and dark magic. But...” She drums the page again. “It’s this ending that bothers me. Remember, it was supposed to behappy.”
“But it is.”
She raises a microbladed eyebrow.
“I mean, it’s happy-ish. Certainly not a downer. I wanted to write an authentic happy ending.”
“In terms of hills to die on, how strongly do you feel about this ending?”
“Ten out of ten.”
“Well, Sophie’s calling in a minute, and if she’s not on board, you and I are going to talk. You know I always respect your artistic wishes, Lizzie, but there’s a lot of money riding on this.”
“I understand.”
Soon we have the director, Sophie Kendrick, pop up on the large conference screen. I was thrilled to hear she might be taking over the project. I’d been hoping for a female director on this one. Kendrick is sitting in her large, sunny Los Angeles office. After introductions, Sarah dives into our pitch. Sophie listens carefully, but her expression is difficult to read, particularly through the monitor glare on her large glasses.
“The ending is interesting,” she says after a brief pause.
Sarah holds her breath next to me.
“Describe it again please...”
Sarah reads it again.
“Certainly not the potboiler we expected.”
“We’re open to amending...” Sarah starts.
“No. I won’t hear of it.” Sophie leans back in her chair and removes her glasses thoughtfully. “I’ve been wanting to edge my work more into the nuanced and bittersweet. This ending is wise and unexpected. Beautiful at all levels.”
“Then we’re keeping it!” Sarah exclaims happily, tapping my knee under the table.
“Absolutely we’re keeping it. Count me in! And good work, Lizzie. I’m looking forward to working on this project with you.”
Just before I board my plane back to South Carolina, my phone dings.
Tyler:Hi, beautiful friend! Missing you already. I’ll be back in the States next year, and I’ve booked some gigs. I’m in Charleston in April. Would love to catch up and I’d love it even more if you joined me onstage. *GIF of a pleading kitten with big eyes*
Me:Fuck yes! I wouldn’t miss an onstage opportunity with you for the world!
I scroll down, finding that I missed an earlier text from Henry. It’s a phone pic of the ostrich fan.
Henry:Hey, Lizzie, so I was putting away the suitcases and this fell out of a zipper. I’m kind of scratching my head...
