Lindsay Beale reviewed the contract, then picked up a pen and signed her name on both copies.
Compared to her previous Hollywood jobs, this contract offered generous terms: a weekly salary of $1000 for ghostwriting the first book, doubling to $2000 for the second, and again to $4000 for the third.
A weekly salary of $4000 was more than most seasoned Hollywood screenwriters earned. Additionally, there were completion bonuses and royalties if the book was published.
Three months in Hollywood had taught the dream-chasing Lindsay Beale the harsh realities of the industry. First, she had to support herself, then pay off student loans, and establish herself in Hollywood before she could talk about talent and dreams.
"Thank you for coming," Ronan said, shaking hands with lawyer Dana.
Dana Hampton smiled. "Call me anytime if you need anything. I'll be on my way now."
Ronan saw her out and returned to find his new ghostwriter looking a bit dazed. He cleared his throat and said, "Ms. Beale, let's discuss the job."
Lindsay Beale's delicate features formed a gentle, Eastern-style face, quite different from the typical American bombshell. She smiled, showing two small bunny teeth, and said, "Mr. Anderson, please call me Lindsay."
Ronan didn't hesitate. "Lindsay, you can call me Ronan. We'll be working closely together, so let's keep things informal."
"Alright," Lindsay Beale nodded.
Ronan opened a file cabinet and took out three sets of backgrounds, character designs, and plot outlines, handing them to Lindsay Beale. "Take a look. These are all female-centric stories."
Having read "Twilight" and "The Hunger Games," he only had a general idea of the main characters and plotlines. The outlines needed further development.
Lindsay Beale reviewed the outlines and understood why she was asked to write those two segments during the interview. The first outline was a typical Mary Sue story set in a fantasy world with vampires and werewolves, following a traditional love story arc.
She preferred the second outline, set in a post-apocalyptic world where a strong, independent woman fights against a tyrannical regime. Similar utopian novels existed, but none focused so exclusively on a female lead with such a character design.
Hollywood and the literary world often demanded female protagonists to be "likable." Lindsay had noticed countless times that creators were subtly advised that female characters couldn't act like men or do what men could.
The third outline was an urban version of the first, with added elements of abuse. Lindsay had read many eclectic books, so these settings didn't surprise her.
Ronan patiently waited until Lindsay finished reviewing the outlines. "Any questions?" he asked.
Knowing this was crucial for her job, Lindsay didn't hold back. "The outlines lack detail. Many supporting characters only have names and basic backgrounds without deeper development."
"I'm not asking you to work on an assembly line," Ronan said. "You need to use your creativity to flesh out the characters and the story."
"I understand," Lindsay replied.
Ronan added, "I'll set up a desk for you at Sand Sea Entertainment. You can write there during the day so we can discuss the plot as needed. Submit every 10,000 words for my review. Let me know if you encounter any issues."
"Got it," Lindsay said, then asked, "Which book should I start with?"
"I've already planned it out. First, finish 'Twilight,' then 'The Hunger Games,' and finally 'Fifty Shades of Grey.'"
These books were just the first installments; the sequels could be developed later.
Lindsay thought for a moment and said, "I'm not very familiar with the backgrounds of werewolves and vampires. I need to gather some information."
"No problem," Ronan said. "I'll have someone help you gather the relevant materials, and you can also visit the library."
He checked the time. "Our contract starts today. If there's nothing else, you can go ahead and prepare."
Lindsay glanced at Ronan, hesitating, then said, "Can I advance two weeks' salary? I..."
Ronan looked at her without speaking.
"I have student loans to pay off, and my rent is due," Lindsay said, lacking confidence.
Ronan, always one to ensure he got something in return, said, "Lindsay, you can get a two-week advance from the finance department. I'll call them now."
Lindsay's face lit up with joy. "Thank you, thank you for your generosity."
Ronan emphasized, "I want you to focus entirely on your work."
"I will," Lindsay promised. "I'll do my best."
With a ghostwriter in place, writing these three books was just a matter of time. Once Lindsay completed the first installment of "Twilight," Ronan planned to recommend it to publishers under the movie company's name, increasing its chances of publication.
As Lindsay left, Ronan had an idea: promoting a beautiful writer could be beneficial. He'd hold the rights, but give Lindsay the credit, complete with photos on the book cover. With proper promotion, a talented and attractive writer could easily become popular.
Lindsay Beale was certainly more attractive than J.K. Rowling.
But there was no rush. Benefits should be given gradually, much like negotiating, where one pushes the opponent's limits bit by bit. Immediate benefits would leave nothing to offer later.
Exiting Ronan's office, Lindsay was led by the receptionist Eva to a desk in the corner. It had all the necessary equipment, including a computer with internet access for research.
"Much better than those two small writing teams," Lindsay thought, satisfied with her private workspace. "Generous, respectful to women, and wealthy. Maybe this is a good boss."
"Let me know if you need anything," Eva said before leaving.
Lindsay sat in her chair, studying the "Twilight" outline. She understood the importance of doing a good job when being paid well.
As for writing within Ronan Anderson's framework, it was no big deal. Her three months in Hollywood had shown her the kind of treatment she could expect.
An experienced screenwriter had once said, "If you haven't been humiliated by a high school dropout star during a story meeting, you haven't been a Hollywood screenwriter." Writers had to constantly be prepared for their ideas and drafts to be rejected, altered, or scrapped.
Writers also had to solicit feedback and instructions from producers and adjust accordingly.
Now, she only had to report to Ronan Anderson, which was much simpler.
By the weekend, Ronan had finished his work and, as with "The Purge," went to a theater in a bustling part of North Hollywood to watch a movie.
"Kingsman: The Secret Service" opened in 1500 theaters across North America this weekend.
The film's marketing targeted minority groups, so its ads weren't prominent in upscale areas. However, he saw several "Final Destination" posters from his apartment to Laurel Canyon Boulevard.
Marketing significantly impacted a film's box office, especially the opening weekend. It could be decisive.
Ronan entered an Empire Entertainment theater and found the "Kingsman" poster in a less prominent spot. It featured Mohamed, an Arab, with supporting characters of various ethnicities in the background.
"How about this one? It's an action film," someone nearby said, pointing at the "Kingsman" poster. Ronan turned to see two white men. The older one shook his head. "I don't like the lead. He looks weird. Let's watch something else."
Ronan sighed. Was it really a world so focused on appearances?
At the ticket counter, Ronan said, "One ticket for 'Kingsman: The Secret Service,' please."
After buying his ticket, he waited and entered Theater 7 ten minutes before the show. To observe better, he chose a seat in the back row.
The theater was small, seating around a hundred. Clearly, "Kingsman" wasn't a priority for the theater. They were focused on more popular films like the recently released "Black Sun Crisis" and Tim Burton and Johnny Depp's "Sleepy Hollow."
"Kingsman" was receiving third-tier treatment in the theater.