I am Hollywood

Chapter 3: Thankfully, Not Michael Clayton



[Chapter 3: Thankfully, Not Michael Clayton]n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Jeff, the owner of the Italian restaurant, noticed that Eric seemed like a completely different person these days. He no longer daydreamed as often, and his whole demeanor radiated energy. During his interactions with customers, he no longer appeared awkward; instead, he occasionally cracked harmless jokes. Once, Jeff even caught Eric skillfully flirting with a glamorous single woman in her thirties, using a laid-back, slightly hip vibe that was endearingly charming. At the end of the meal, the woman had tipped him three times the standard gratuity and flashed an unabashed wink.

"Eric, have you run into some good luck? You seem... different lately," Jeff finally couldn't help but ask during a break, genuinely concerned about the young man, who was like a son to him.

"Is it that obvious?" Eric paused, somewhat surprised.

Jeff chuckled. "Of course! It's practically written all over your face."

"Maybe it's because I finally found something to strive for. You know, when someone has a dream, it changes everything."

"Oh? What's your dream? Care to share?"

"Definitely," Eric replied with excitement. "I've decided that I want to become a director. In fact, I've been working on my very first screenplay. I'll finish it in a couple of days!"

"Director...?" Jeff raised an eyebrow, initially tempted to caution Eric not to aim too high. But then he remembered how Eric had just started coming out of the grief over his father's death. The kid finding a goal was encouraging enough, so he held back his words.

Just a subtle change in his expression made Eric realize what Jeff was about to say. Still, Eric chuckled it off; after all, they were in Hollywood, where thousands arrived each year to chase their movie dreams but only a fortunate few succeeded. It made sense that Jeff had those

concerns.

"Well, once you finish that script, I'd love to take a look. You know, I once had dreams of becoming an actor. Don't let this beer belly fool you," Jeff patted his ample stomach, adding, "I was quite the looker back in the day. Believe it or not, I even auditioned for a small part in The Godfather. Time sure flies!"

Eric was taken aback, unaware of this side of Jeff's past, but he quickly accepted it. This was Hollywood, the world's largest film industry, and anything was possible. After all, Sylvester Stallone had even starred as The Italian Stallion in The Party at Kitty and Stud's.

"Sure thing! Your feedback could come in handy," Eric responded, knowing he could use Jeff's input to spot any flaws in his script.

Although Eric had tried his best to eliminate anything that referenced events or cultural elements from after 1988, he couldn't guarantee there wouldn't be any slip-ups. As someone from the outside, Jeff could easily spot any anachronisms.

They shared a few more laughs before some guests walked into the restaurant, prompting Eric to rush over to greet them.

...

The day flew by, and after a hasty dinner at home, Eric dove into work on the novel and screenplay for Jurassic Park.

The novel was practically finished; he was just in the final proofreading stages. Eric planned to make copies and submit it to a few publishers the next day. As for the screenplay, he had only drafted a basic outline and noted areas needing revisions. With his vivid impressions of the movie in mind, he figured completing the script would only take him two evenings.

The next morning, Eric left home shortly after seven, intending to make copies of Jurassic Park and mail them out. He had already prepared addresses for several well-known publishers in North America. Even if the bigger publishers turned down his manuscript, he wouldn't be crushed. After all, there were thousands of publishers out there, and surely one would be willing to print his novel. Despite Jurassic Park once reaching the top of the New York Times bestseller list, Eric wasn't focused on the royalties but was more keen to retain the movie rights once the book got published.

"Hello! How can I help you today?" As he stepped into a print shop, a slightly slender Black woman greeted him warmly.

"I'd like to make a few copies of this manuscript," Eric replied, pulling out the pages from his bag.

Her eyes lit up as she looked at the thick manuscript, beaming brightly. "Sir, may I take a look?"

"Of course," Eric handed it over.

Without delving into the content, she quickly counted the pages and said, "Looks like about three hundred. Let's say three hundred pages. It'll be thirty dollars per copy. How many would you like?"

Thirty bucks! Eric's lips twitched. That was a steep price! He had only a few hundred dollars left in cash, and that included his pre-drawn salary for the month.

After some bargaining, they settled on a deal of four copies for a hundred dollars. After paying, the woman politely poured Eric a cup of coffee while she started the copying process. Bored, Eric sipped his coffee while watching her work the machine. He calculated it would take about half an hour to finish, which wouldn't interfere with his restaurant job. Even though the restaurant didn't see a rush until after ten, he knew that with Jeff's personality, he wouldn't dock his pay for being late. Still, he understood that maintaining their friendship meant showing up on time.

About ten minutes later, the print shop door darkened slightly. Eric looked up to see a brown- haired white man in his forties walk in carrying a leather bag. The man was around five-foot- seven, stocky, with stubble along his chin, a pronounced nose, and gold-rimmed glasses. He exuded a cultured and gentle presence.

"Welcome, sir! Would you mind waiting a moment?"

The brown-haired man nodded politely, greeting Eric as he sat down beside him. The Black woman paused her work briefly and quickly poured him a cup of coffee. "Sir, it should be ready in about ten minutes. Please enjoy your coffee in the meantime."

"Thank you," the man said, eyeing the thick stack of papers on Eric's table, intrigued by the manuscript. With only the three of them in the shop, he couldn't help but ask, "May I inquire if that's your manuscript?"

"Yes," Eric nodded. "It's a novel I just finished writing. I'm planning to make a few copies to submit."

"You look like a high school student; that's impressive! I couldn't do things like that at your

age."

"Thanks! This is actually my first novel, so I don't have much confidence."

"No, you need to believe in yourself. Can I take a look at your novel?" the brown-haired man said, reaching into his pocket for a business card. "I happen to run a small publishing house." Eric took a glance at the card: Michael Krauss, Manager of Nightshade Press. His eyebrows raised slightly, relieved that it wasn't Michael Clayton. Eric couldn't help but laugh inwardly at the lack of imagination some people had when naming children. He recalled his high school class had two Jakes and two Jessicas, and when you broadened it to the entire school, the number only increased. Even when a kid was born, parents might just name him Jr. instead of being creative!

Since glancing wouldn't cause harm, Eric casually handed over the freshly copied manuscript to Michael Krauss. The man took it, briefly scanned the title, and commented, "Jurassic Park,

interesting title."

Eric smiled slightly but didn't respond. Michael Krauss didn't press further, flipping through the pages instead. As he delved deeper into the text, his nonchalant demeanor shifted to one of seriousness. Initially, he had praised Eric, but deep down, he doubted whether someone Eric's age could compose anything remarkable. In his experience, bestselling authors were typically individuals with rich life experiences and knowledge.

After reading the manuscript carefully yet quickly, Michael meticulously sorted the somewhat disorganized pages and lifted his gaze to Eric, his eyes brimming with surprise, excitement, and a touch of ambition.

"May I know your name, young man?"

"Eric Williams," Eric replied plainly. Given his extensive past experiences, he could easily detect the implications behind Michael's expression. Although he didn't plan to hand Jurassic Park over to a small publisher just yet, meeting Michael Krauss could prove beneficial. If the notable publishers really turned him down, this could be a back-up plan.

*****

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