{"id":11293,"date":"2017-03-15T10:00:17","date_gmt":"2017-03-15T14:00:17","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/jennytrout.com\/?p=11293"},"modified":"2017-03-14T19:51:10","modified_gmt":"2017-03-14T23:51:10","slug":"say-goodbye-to-hollywood-excerpt","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/?p=11293","title":{"rendered":"SAY GOODBYE TO HOLLYWOOD excerpt!"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"The<\/a><\/p>\n

We’re less than a week away from the release of\u00a0Say Goodbye To Hollywood<\/em>! If you’re anticipating the book as much as I’m eagerly anticipating sharing it with you, here’s a glimpse of what you can expect. Read the excerpt after the jump, and don’t forget that you can pre-order\u00a0Say Goodbye To Hollywood<\/em> on Amazon<\/a><\/span> now!<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

The cover of Lynn Baldwin\u2019s debut novel, Beautiful Darkness<\/em>, bears the words, \u201c#1 New York Times<\/em> Bestseller\u201d and \u201cOver 100 Million Copies Sold!\u201d. In the glossy image, a necklace of red beads drapes over a black lacquered surface, presumably the piano the tortured hero of the story, Damian Bennet, has played since he was a boy. A twenty-nine-year-old internet billionaire and underground mixed martial arts competitor, Damian meets naive, virginal college student Ella Vaughn on page five and, through four-hundred-sixty-eight pages of flowery humping and alarmingly violent personal altercations, their destinies and hearts are forever changed.<\/p>\n

The cover art is tasteful. The story, not so much.<\/p>\n

I take a long, deep breath and hold it until the elevator arrives and the doors open. A short, pale woman holds the open-door button and leans slightly forward to address me. \u201cJessica Yates?\u201d<\/p>\n

I want to extend my hand, but all I can think is that she\u2019ll release the button, and my arm will be trapped between the closing doors \u201cYes. And you\u2019re Kathy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cKathy Muller, yes.\u201d She gestures me into the elevator with her. \u201cLynn is so excited to meet you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m looking forward to it.\u201d I take another deep breath and slowly exhale with the climbing floors.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did you think of the book?\u201d Muller asks, a twinkle in her eyes. It matches the twinkle in the eyes of the women at yoga when they mention the book, and the eyes of the clerk at the bookstore where I purchased a copy.<\/p>\n

The correct answer to a twinkler is, of course, positive, even if my opinion of the book is not. \u201cIt\u2019s like nothing I\u2019ve ever read before.\u201d<\/p>\n

She beams at me. Like Lynn Baldwin, Kathy Muller is from Oklahoma. In fact, she\u2019s Baldwin\u2019s cousin; that\u2019s how she got the job as Lynn\u2019s assistant in the first place.<\/p>\n

I stare down at the book in my shaking hands.<\/p>\n

Sure, I think it\u2019s terrible. The storyline is needlessly convoluted; what dotcom billionaire had time for underground fighting rings? Why, if the heroine is so afraid of BDSM, does she make a bet to become his submissive? The writing itself comes off stilted and juvenile, and the much-vaunted sex scenes read like the protagonists are having asthma attacks, instead of orgasms.<\/p>\n

There are so many ellipses.<\/p>\n

But one-hundred-million customers can\u2019t be wrong, can they? The book is a world-wide phenomenon. The last thing I wrote did well, but not Forbes<\/em> well.<\/p>\n

Lynn Baldwin was on the cover last month.<\/p>\n

I glanced sideways at Kathy. She watches the numbers like we\u2019re at the stock exchange. Her gaze flicks to me. She smiles reassuringly and says, \u201cWe\u2019re almost there.\u201d<\/p>\n

Though Macrocosm Studios\u2019 production offices are in Burbank, today, I\u2019m at the Beverly Wilshire, where Mrs. Baldwin has been living during pre-production. She has to be on hand for the numerous components of the film she has unprecedented control over.<\/p>\n

When it comes to Beautiful Darkness<\/em>, everything is unprecedented. The bidding war for the film rights reached into the mid-seven figures. And, now, Macrocosm is sending me in for her approval. If this meeting goes well, I\u2019ll be adapting the current bestselling book in the world for a major motion picture.<\/p>\n

This is a big deal for me. A huge deal, with a whole lot on the line. I\u2019m in demand, now, but that demand will wane if I can\u2019t maintain commercial success. So far, my work has been acclaimed, but I\u2019ve never really \u201cpopped\u201d. Beautiful Darkness<\/em> might give me the boost I need to keep the phone ringing.<\/p>\n

The elevator dings, and Muller announces, \u201cPenthouse. Please, follow me.\u201d<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not magnificent talent that\u2019s gotten me to the penthouse suite. I know the man to thank for getting me this meeting.<\/p>\n

Jack Martin waits just inside the foyer. Whenever I hear the phrase \u201cruggedly handsome\u201d, I immediately picture Jack. He has the square jaw of a hardboiled detective in a comic strip and eyes like the youngest member of a boy band, and he looks like he could wear plaid shirts and survive in the wilderness. It\u2019s easy to see how he got his start in action movies.<\/p>\n

He turns to me with his signature scary frown. I\u2019ve been told that I have Resting Bitch Face. Jack has Resting If-You-Say-Another-Stupid-Word-So-Help-Me-God-I-Will-Throw-You-Off-A-Balcony face. It looks good on movie posters, but if you don\u2019t know him, it\u2019s incredibly intimidating in real life. Especially now that he\u2019s in his early forties, and his default expression has gone from \u201cbeer-fueled, Boston-born Irishman who just overheard you praising the Yankees\u201d, to \u201ccold, distant father in a 1960s-set coming-of-age movie\u201d. And most especially when he\u2019s dressed like the GQ<\/em> angel of death in a black suit, black shirt, and no tie. He turns, scratches his short brown hair, and greets me with, \u201cI\u2019m waiting for Ms. Baldwin.\u201d<\/p>\n

The assistant at my side makes a strained polite face. \u201cAs I said before, she\u2019s making an appearance via satellite.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jack rolls his eyes. I don\u2019t blame him. He\u2019s not the most important man in Hollywood, but he is<\/em> important. He\u2019d made Macrocosm a killing starring as a Russian sleeper agent in their Dangerous Identity<\/em> franchise, and the first feature he produced for them had been an award-season darling. Jack Martin\u2019s name attached to anything is gold, but clearly, Lynn Baldwin has the same idea about herself.<\/p>\n

Kathy hurries off, leaving us both to stand in the marble-walled foyer. \u201cHow long have you been waiting?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLonger than I should have,\u201d is the only answer he gives. He glances sideways at me. \u201cYou look nice today.\u201d<\/p>\n

There\u2019s a mirror across the hallway to our right. I sneak a peek to make sure the back of my cream-colored blazer isn\u2019t tucked into my slacks or something. I\u2019m wearing my favorite shirt beneath it, a dusky mauve silk blouse that brings out the \u201cEnglish rose\u201d in my complexion. I do look pretty good. Maybe Jack wasn\u2019t being sarcastic.<\/p>\n

I straighten the chain of the Jason Wu necklace I borrowed from one of my more fashionable friends and say, \u201cThanks?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jack has never once commented on my appearance while on the clock. Which means he\u2019s trying to boost my confidence. Which means he can tell I\u2019m nervous.<\/p>\n

Shit.<\/p>\n

Kathy bustles back in and gives us a way-too-enthusiastic smile. \u201cAll right, thank you so much for waiting. She will see you, now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jack makes an \u201cafter you\u201d motion, and I follow Kathy down the hall, into a spacious living room with a panoramic view. A large photo backdrop of L.A. dominates most of the room, and blazing camera lights click off one-by-one as a technician takes them down. Someone else is packing away a camera and cables.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust ignore them,\u201d Kathy says with a wave of her hand that implies she\u2019s taking it all in stride on just another day.<\/p>\n

But Muller hasn\u2019t always been Baldwin\u2019s assistant, and Baldwin hasn\u2019t always lived this life.<\/p>\n

Kathy takes us to a smaller media room with wood paneling and a sleek television in a modern white shelving unit.<\/p>\n

\u201cMs. Baldwin will be just one more moment,\u201d she assures us, then draws the wood divider across the wide doorway like a bowing footman.<\/p>\n

\u201cChrist, it\u2019s like we\u2019re here to meet the Pope,\u201d Jack says, and he makes a noise that I\u2019ve come to decode as a wry laugh.<\/p>\n

There\u2019s one very modern armchair and an L-shaped sofa with evenly spaced throw pillows. I sit on one side, Jack sits on the other, and we both stare silently at the glass-topped coffee table that\u2019s nearly bumping our knees.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve worked in Hollywood for the past fourteen years, and the only other time I was this nervous going into a meeting was when I was still in awe of Jack. He\u2019s nervous today, too. It\u2019s hard to tell, but since I\u2019ve worked with him enough, I can see the signs. He\u2019s trying hard not to jiggle his knee, and he keeps taking a breath like he\u2019s going to say something then never does.<\/p>\n

It feels like we\u2019ve been waiting an eternity when the partition slides open again, and there she is. Soccer mom turned literary superstar, Lynn Baldwin.<\/p>\n

Lynn is in her mid-forties and is a little overweight. Her long casual pink sweater and white leggings combo gives the impression that success hasn\u2019t removed her far from her comfortable suburban life in Oklahoma, but the sweater is cashmere, and no housewife I\u2019ve ever seen wears diamonds the size of the one her left hand.<\/p>\n

I assume it\u2019s an upgraded wedding ring, not the original.<\/p>\n

\u201cJack! So good to see you again!\u201d she exclaims, and I\u2019m instantly relieved that she\u2019s as warm and personable as she is in interviews.<\/p>\n

I stand at the same time Jack does, waiting in my spot while he rounds the coffee table to shake her hand and give her the customary air kiss beside her cheek.<\/p>\n

\u201cL.A. is agreeing with you,\u201d he says, turning on the charming smile that\u2019s made him People<\/em>\u2019s Sexiest Man Alive twice.<\/p>\n

Ms. Baldwin pats her blond hair and demurs, \u201cOh, stop it. I feel like I\u2019m getting such a big head since I came out here.\u201d<\/p>\n

I\u2019m glad she didn\u2019t greet me right away, because I\u2019m in a little bit of shock trying to reconcile her appearance with the pictures I saw on the internet. Many of them were a month or more old, from her massive North American book tour. Her face isn\u2019t as lined as it was in those pictures, and her haircut and highlights are flawless, now. She turns to me and extends her hand; the four gold bangles on her wrist clink softly.<\/p>\n

\u201cHi there, Ms. Baldwin. I\u2019m Jessica Yates.\u201d I take her hand and shake it, and she uses this gesture to pull me in.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, please, call me Lynn.\u201d She looks as though she\u2019s about to say something else when she notices the copy of her book in my hands. I don\u2019t know why I\u2019m still holding it. She takes it from me, sighing as though she\u2019s seeing it for the first time. \u201cI love this cover. Don\u2019t you love this cover?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMuch better than the one you used on your website,\u201d Jack says, and my spine stiffens. The self-published origins of Beautiful Darkness<\/em> have been a touchy subject in interviews. Jack has to know that, right? He always does his homework.<\/p>\n

Lynn\u2019s smile flickers and freezes for just a moment, then she laughs a little too loudly and says, \u201cWell, let\u2019s not even talk about that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight!\u201d I jump in. \u201cWe\u2019re here to talk about the screenplay.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s exciting, isn\u2019t it?\u201d she gushes, taking the armchair. Jack and I sit down, as well. Lynn draws one leg up beneath the other and rubs her hands together as she addresses me. \u201cI\u2019m sure Jack has already told you that this isn\u2019t going to be the usual arrangement. Macrocosm has offered me a lot of creative involvement, and I want to do right by my fans. I need to know that you\u2019re as committed to this story as I am.\u201d<\/p>\n

My gaze flicks to Jack. He\u2019s lounging comfortably with one elbow on the back of the couch, and I see the sadistic little glimmer in his eyes. He knows how I feel about the book. When we first discussed the possibility of me writing the screenplay, I told him it would make a better psychological thriller than a hot-and-heavy romance.<\/p>\n

The diplomatic statement I rehearsed on the drive over rolls out easily. \u201cYou know, I found something so compelling about this story. While I read it, I could see the movie in my mind. Do you ever read a book and just get that feeling, that spark, that there\u2019s more story to be told? Layers that you can\u2019t give to the reader in words but something that has to be shown visually?\u201d<\/p>\n

She nods, her expression composed and serious. I wonder, for a minute, if I offended her by suggesting there was something missing from her novel, but the corners of her eyes squint a little, and she says, \u201cYou know, when I was writing it, it looked like movie in my head.\u201d<\/p>\n

I know this already, and so does Jack, because Lynn Baldwin has never kept it secret that a young, muscle-bound Jack Martin, fresh off his second spy movie, was the inspiration for Damian. I watch Jack shift just a little in his seat, and I have to keep myself from laughing.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, we\u2019re on the same page, then?\u201d I ask. \u201cNo pun intended.\u201d<\/p>\n

Pun totally intended. Jack hates them, and I like to antagonize him.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you tell me some of what we\u2019d be doing? I\u2019ve never written a movie before, so I don\u2019t know what should stay or go or if anything really should go.\u201d Lynn looks from me to Jack.<\/p>\n

He clears his throat, and I almost don\u2019t hear it over the alarm bells in my head. Has someone told Lynn that she\u2019ll be writing the screenplay with<\/em> me? Jack never mentioned that.<\/p>\n

\u201cRight now isn\u2019t the time to talk about cuts to the work,\u201d Jack says. \u201cI think the important thing we should discuss is tone. What kind<\/em> of a film are we going to bring to the audience?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA hot one, I hope!\u201d Baldwin says with an ear-splitting laugh. It\u2019s clear that she wants me to agree with her, but I have reservations. Since I read the first of the many sex scenes in the novel, I\u2019ve been worrying about how to get whips and chains past the MPAA.<\/p>\n

I try not to disagree with her outright. Today is all about getting her approval, so she\u2019ll give Jack the word that it\u2019s okay for me to proceed.<\/p>\n

My answer is a cautious one. \u201cHot, definitely. We don\u2019t want to lose the sex appeal. But we want to make sure it doesn\u2019t come across as too explicit. I want viewers to focus on the love story.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, but the sex is such a visceral part of what\u2014\u201d She\u2019s interrupted by the divider opening, and a flash of truly alarming annoyance crosses her face. I make a mental note of that for later. If she has a quick temper, I don\u2019t want to be on the wrong side of it.<\/p>\n

The man who enters is tall and lanky, with a bald head that reminds me of the shiny, pale surface of an egg bagel. He leans down to give Lynn a kiss on the forehead and tells her, \u201cI\u2019m taking the kids to the pool. Give me a call when you\u2019re finished here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAbsolutely, baby,\u201d she purrs back at him, and without an introduction, he\u2019s gone. She turns to us, a naughty glimmer in her eyes, and says, \u201cMr. Inspiration.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour husband?\u201d Jack asks. I want to smack him.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, her au pair.\u201d My snark earns a big laugh from Lynn, but it doesn\u2019t unburden me from the knowledge that Damian Bennett is apparently some hellish mix of Lynn\u2019s husband in Jack\u2019s body.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I like you,\u201d Lynn says, as though this is the ultimate compliment. \u201cYou\u2019re sassy. I think we\u2019ll get along very well.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJessica is one of the hardest working screenwriters Macrocosm has ever hired,\u201d Jack says, and winks at me. \u201cBut she is a lot of fun to work with.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lynn\u2019s gaze shifts between the two of us, the corners of her eyes crinkling with piqued interest. Of course, the woman who wrote the bestselling romance novel of all time would jump to a romantic conclusion, but it still brings up all sorts of icky feelings that I thought I left in the past. There\u2019s nothing romantic between Jack and me. At least, not anymore.<\/p>\n

Lynn studies me. \u201cYou\u2019re very familiar with my book, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAbsolutely. I couldn\u2019t put it down.\u201d I literally couldn\u2019t. I had to read it before this meeting. I take my copy and flip through the pages. \u201cI even made notes in the margins.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hopefully, she doesn\u2019t ask to read them. I could kick myself for bringing them up.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat was your favorite part?\u201d From Lynn\u2019s tone and the subtle freeze of her perfect suburban smile, I know this is a test.<\/p>\n

This isn\u2019t my first rodeo. I\u2019ve never adapted a sure-fire Hollywood blockbuster, but I know all about writer egos. I have my own. By the time I\u2019m done working on this script, I\u2019ll have told her thirty \u201cfavorite\u201d scenes I have. \u201cWhen Damian interrupts the fight between Ella and Cassidy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Something akin to relief crosses Lynn\u2019s face. If I were in her position, I would test people, too. It\u2019s easy for people to flatter you, but there\u2019s no guarantee of substance behind it. She shakes her head. \u201cDon\u2019t you just hate Cassidy?\u201d<\/p>\n

Do I hate her, or am I supposed to hate her? The bitchy blond next-door neighbor who constantly taunts Ella grows tiresome within a few chapters. \u201cI think we can have a lot of fun with that dynamic.\u201d<\/p>\n

That dynamic won\u2019t make it into the final script, if I can help it. It\u2019s extraneous; Cassidy disappears around the mid-point of the novel and never reappears, with absolutely no explanation.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think this is a good fit,\u201d Jack says, too suddenly. It probably doesn\u2019t strike Lynn as desperate, because from anybody else, it wouldn\u2019t be. But my eyes go wide, like I just caught someone stuffing a body into a dumpster. Jack never tries to close out a meeting with a definite answer. It\u2019s his power move; he walks away and gives them the illusion that the ball is in their court. He wants this for me.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I think you\u2019re absolutely right,\u201d Lynn agrees, and looks to me expectantly. \u201cSo, when I can I see a script?\u201d<\/p>\n

My brain whirls. I want this job. I want the money. I want the security. I want whatever is on the other side of the door that this job will open for me. But I\u2019m not sure I want to spend the next three or four months of my life immersed in the extremely narrow world of Damian and Ella.<\/p>\n

Then, I look at Jack.<\/p>\n

I owe this man everything. He\u2019s never steered me wrong once. Without him, the door to Hollywood would never have opened to me. Or maybe it would have, but certainly not in the way it had when it was Jack\u2019s hand on the doorknob.<\/p>\n

As Lynn Baldwin, the Jacqueline Susann of her time, waits with her photo-ready benevolent smile, I ask, \u201cDoes this mean I have your approval to go forward?\u201d<\/p>\n

She animates with joy. \u201cOf course, you do! Do you have any idea how many men the studio heads have had in here, talking to me about my book and how they understand<\/em> it?\u201d Lynn scoffs and throws a pointed sideways glance at Jack. \u201cI can\u2019t trust a man to understand Ella the way a woman can. You know, a reporter said to me recently, \u2018Every woman sees herself in Ella Vaughn, no matter her age or her background,\u2019 and I think that\u2019s true. Ella is every woman, and only a woman can really live through her experiences.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe reporter, wasn\u2019t that Brian Chambers for the L.A. Times<\/em>?\u201d Jack asks, deadpan.<\/p>\n

I ignore him. \u201cWell, I\u2019m very excited. I\u2019m sure there are things that need to be worked out with Jack and the studio\u2014\u201d I hope he hears the cash registers ka-ching<\/em>ing in my head.<\/p>\n

The sliding wall opens, and Kathy peeks in.<\/p>\n

\u201cNaturally,\u201d Jack cuts me off. \u201cBut let\u2019s save that. I think we\u2019ve gone over our time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, that\u2019s right. I have so many meetings and appearances today.\u201d Lynn stands, and Jack and I follow suit. Jack reaches over and gives Lynn a hearty handshake, but when it\u2019s my turn, she locks her fingers around mine and squeezes, her face contorting with emotion. \u201cYou\u2019re the right fit for this. I can feel it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Instantly, I feel like an asshole. This woman believes in me. She trusts me to bring her vision to the screen. Writing is intimate. It\u2019s raw. It\u2019s daunting. And it\u2019s terrifying. I\u2019ve been viewing her as someone beneath me, as a means to an end. I came into this meeting so full of myself, so derisive about her book.<\/p>\n

I have to do better.<\/p>\n

We leave, Kathy making all sorts of apologies. She walks us straight to the elevator, her eyes on our every move like we\u2019re fans who\u2019ll hide out somewhere in the penthouse. I almost want to snap that we\u2019re not going to steal Lynn\u2019s underwear. As we wait for the elevator, Kathy collects a toned blond woman with a yoga mat under one arm and a Nalgene bottle in her hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s just getting changed, but you can set up.\u201d Kathy\u2019s voice disappears down the hall.<\/p>\n

Under his breath, Jack mutters, \u201cAnd we\u2019ve been dismissed. For yoga<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

We’re less than a week away from the release of\u00a0Say Goodbye To Hollywood! If you’re anticipating the book as much as I’m eagerly anticipating sharing<\/p>\n

Read moreSAY GOODBYE TO HOLLYWOOD excerpt!<\/span><\/a><\/div>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11293"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=11293"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11293\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11294,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11293\/revisions\/11294"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=11293"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=11293"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=11293"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}