Lindsay Beal finished reading through the contract, picked up the pen, and signed both copies. Given her current situation and the pay compared to her previous Hollywood jobs, this contract was quite generous. For ghostwriting the first book, she would earn $1,000 per week. For the second book, her pay would double to $2,000 per week, and for the third book, it would double again to $4,000 per week.
A weekly salary of $4,000 was more than most veteran Hollywood screenwriters made. Additionally, there was a completion bonus and potential royalties if the book got published.
Her three months in Hollywood had taught the idealistic Lindsay Beal what reality truly meant. First, she needed to support herself and pay off her student loans, then establish herself in Hollywood, before she could dream about talent and aspirations.
"Thank you for coming all this way," Michael said, shaking hands with Dana Upton, the lawyer.
Dana smiled and replied, "Feel free to call me anytime you need. I'll be heading out now."
Michael escorted her out and then returned to find his new ghostwriter looking a bit dazed. He cleared his throat and said, "Miss Beal, let's discuss the work."
Lindsay Beal's delicate features and soft, Eastern-like face, which contrasted with the typical American look, brightened with a smile that revealed her charming rabbit teeth. "Mr. Davenport, please call me Lindsay."
Michael didn't stand on ceremony. "Alright, Lindsay. You can call me Michael. We'll be working closely together, so no need to be too formal."
"Okay." Lindsay nodded her sharp chin.
Michael opened a file cabinet, pulled out three sets of background information, character profiles, and plot outlines he had prepared, and handed them to Lindsay. "Take a look. These are all female-centric stories."
Compared to Fifty Shades of Grey, whose original novel he had read, Michael had only watched the film adaptations of Twilight and The Hunger Games, remembering the main plot and the leads but forgetting much of the rest. Therefore, the outlines were not very detailed and needed further development.
Lindsay read through the outlines, understanding why she had been asked to write those two pieces during the interview.
The first outline was a standard Mary Sue story, but with a fantasy twist, adding elements of vampires and werewolves. However, the setup still followed the traditional trope of intense romantic entanglement.
She preferred the second outline, which depicted a post-apocalyptic society where the protagonist, a strong, independent woman willing to sacrifice for her family, fought against a tyrannical regime.
Dystopian novels like this existed in North America, and Lindsay had read a few, but those centered entirely around a female lead with such a character setup seemed rare.
Hollywood and the literary world often demanded that female protagonists be "adorable." She had noticed this countless times. Those in charge would imply, if not outright state, that a female character must not act like a man; women couldn't do what men could.
The third outline was a modern version of the first, with added elements of abuse.
Having read many bizarre books, Lindsay wasn't surprised by these settings.
Michael patiently waited until Lindsay finished reading all three outlines before asking, "Any questions?"
Understanding that this was about her job and livelihood, Lindsay didn't hold back. "The outlines aren't detailed enough. Many supporting characters only have names and brief backstories but lack more in-depth development."
"I don't want you to mechanically follow a formula," Michael said, persuading her. "You need to use your creativity to make the characters and stories more vivid."
Lindsay nodded. "I understand."
Michael continued, "I'll have a desk reserved for you at Sand Sea Entertainment. You can write there during the day, which will make it easier for us to discuss the plot. The rest of the time is up to you. Submit every 10,000 words to me for review. If you have any issues, let me know immediately."
"Got it," Lindsay said, then asked, "Which one should I start with?"
Michael had already planned it out. "Start with Twilight, then The Hunger Games, and finally Fifty Shades of Grey."
Of course, only the first book in each series was planned for now. The sequels could be developed after the first ones were completed.
Lindsay thought for a moment. "I'm not very familiar with the background of werewolves and vampires. I'll need to gather some information first."
"No problem," Michael agreed, knowing the importance of preparation. "I'll have someone help you gather the necessary information. You can also visit the library anytime."
He checked the time. "Our contract starts today. Go ahead and make your preparations."
Lindsay glanced at Michael, feeling a bit awkward. After some hesitation, she said, "Can I get an advance on two weeks' pay? I…"
Michael looked at Lindsay, not speaking immediately.
"I have student loans to pay off," Lindsay explained, feeling unsure. "And my rent is due soon."
Michael, always one to expect returns for his kindness, said, "Lindsay, go to the finance department and collect two weeks' salary. I'll call them right away."
Lindsay couldn't hide her joy. "Thank you, thank you for your generosity."
"I just want you to focus entirely on your work," Michael emphasized.
"I will, I promise. I'll give it my all," Lindsay assured him.
With a ghostwriter in place, these three books were just a matter of time. Once Lindsay completed the first Twilight book, recommending it to a publisher under the company's name would significantly increase the chances of publication.
As Lindsay left, Michael had an idea. Perhaps creating a beautiful author persona could work well? Holding the rights and giving Lindsay credit, publishing the book with her photos might push her into the spotlight.
If promoted properly, a talented and beautiful writer could easily become famous.
Lindsay Beal was certainly more attractive than J.K. Rowling.
But there was no rush. Michael understood that human nature and greed were difficult to gauge. Benefits couldn't be given all at once. Just like in negotiations, you had to push back the other party's bottom line bit by bit. Benefits should be given at the right time, little by little.
Releasing all the benefits at once left nothing to attract people later on.
After leaving Michael's office, Lindsay was taken by the receptionist, Eva, to a desk in the far corner. The workstation was fully equipped with everything needed for writing, whether on a computer or with traditional paper and pen. The computer had internet access for research.
"This is much better than those small writing groups," Lindsay thought, recalling the cramped conditions she had worked in before, where several people shared two desks. She was very satisfied with having her own space. "Generous, respectful to women, and well-funded. Maybe this is a good boss."
"If you need anything, feel free to come to me," Eva said before leaving.
Lindsay sat in her swivel chair and carefully reviewed the Twilight outline. She knew the importance of doing a good job now that she was being paid.
Besides, the conditions here were much better than before.
Writing within the parameters set by Michael Davenport was no problem.
Her three months as a screenwriter had shown Lindsay what kind of treatment she could expect in Hollywood.
A veteran screenwriter once said that unless you've been humiliated in story discussions by teenage stars who haven't even graduated high school, you haven't really worked in Hollywood. A screenwriter must always be prepared for their meticulously crafted ideas, drafts, to be ruthlessly cut, altered, or scrapped, faring worse than Native Americans in Western movie scripts.
Screenwriters had to solicit feedback and instructions from producers in a semi-obsequious manner and then make adjustments on their own.
Now, she only had to answer to Michael Davenport, which made things much easier.
The weekend arrived quickly. Michael put aside his work, just like he had when The Purge was released. He found a theater in a bustling area of North Hollywood to watch a movie.
The Secret Agent officially opened this weekend in 1,500 theaters across North America.
Given the targeted marketing toward minority communities, The Secret Agent wasn't visible in bustling areas. Instead, Michael saw Final Destination posters on billboards multiple times as he walked from his apartment to Laurel Canyon Boulevard.
Marketing undeniably influenced a movie's box office performance, especially its opening weekend, where marketing often played a decisive role.
Entering an Empire Entertainment chain theater, Michael looked around the lobby. In a less prominent spot, he found The Secret Agent poster, featuring Mohammad, an Arab, at the center, surrounded by Asian, African-American, and Latino supporting characters.
"What do you think of this movie? It's an action film," someone nearby said, pointing to the poster.
Michael turned to see two white men. The older one shook his head. "I don't like the lead. He looks too weird. Let's watch something else."
Michael sighed. Was this really a world where looks mattered so much?
At the ticket counter, Michael closely examined the electronic display. The bright red letters were very noticeable, and The Secret Agent was among them, but it only had one showing in Theater 7.
"One ticket for The Secret Agent, please," Michael told the cashier.
After buying his ticket and waiting for a bit, he entered Theater 7 ten minutes before the show. To observe the audience better, he chose a seat in the last row and patiently waited.
The theater wasn't very large, holding about a hundred people. Clearly, the theater wasn't allocating its best resources to The Secret Agent. Unlike the still-playing The World Is Not Enough or Tim Burton and Johnny Depp's new release Sleepy Hollow this weekend.
The Secret Agent was receiving third-line treatment at the theater.