Chapter 2 #2
‘I know, right? But she’s frustrated Lenka by still being alive, you know – how dare Matilda still be around, breathing and chipping in ideas for her own books at ninety-five?
That’s Lenka’s view. Usually with classical adaptations, the author has been dead for centuries, so Lenka has full creative control and can do what she wants – take it in a more commercial direction and modernise it for current audiences.
But Matilda Wilder is alive and kicking and she isn’t having it!
She came storming in here yesterday and told Lenka to pipe down.
Forest Fables needs to stay true to its roots – be reimagined yes but remain faithful to the original work. ’
‘Wow. That explains why Lenka’s been extra ratty lately.’
‘Exactly. Lenka is not used to being told what to do.
‘So, take a step back. Know you already have the talent of an artist; now you just need to learn the business psychology side of things, how to handle the good, the bad and the ugly – because they all live amongst us, hiding in plain sight.’ He eyes the room.
‘You’re doing great, so hang on tight. It would be nice to have someone normal here who I can enjoy lunch or a few drinks with. ’
I gaze up at him, feeling a little bit of hope. ‘Really?’
‘Absolutely,’ he replies firmly.
‘I’m honestly terrified of what I’ll find when I open that door – shark pool, electric chair, skull and bones of former illustrators.’
Rory bursts out laughing. ‘Don’t give her any more ideas!
She suggested to Matilda that they should turn the book into a “survival of the fittest” kind of game, like Noah’s Ark meets Lord of the Flies.
They would introduce a flood and all our beloved furries would have to fight each other for survival.
Needless to say, Matilda wasn’t too keen on the idea.
Can you imagine? Night-nighty, little children, sweet nightmares about animal cannibalism!
Lenka doesn’t connect with Forest Fables and it shows.
Let’s try to preserve a little world that kids might still want to wake up to. ’
He offers me another glass of water, which I gulp back.
‘You’ve done amazingly well in your online critiques over the past three months – you’re at the top of the leader board, Daisy. Most people have left by week four.’
‘This feels like The Hunger Games!’
‘Dead on,’ Rory says, nudging me in the elbow. ‘She even has a Mockingjay tattoo on her left butt cheek – something I can’t unsee.’
I really don’t want to think about how he saw that or why, but I’m grateful for the plan and strategy he’s offered me.
Rory’s glimmers of optimism, that my job won’t be a total failure and the story can still be salvaged, is enough to give me hope.
It’s like a drowning man reaching out for a life raft.
‘Okay, how should I do this? I need all the tips you can give me, Rory.’
‘I learned a lot about how to deal with her while watching hostage-negotiation documentaries online. Lots of great tactics – super-helpful, world-class stuff. She loves to see how far she can push until she gets resistance. But don’t worry, I know all her tricks now.
She doesn’t realise I’ve figured them out, cracked her little code of control – and the moment you see them for yourself, it turns into so much fun. ’
‘Okay…’
‘So, round one: play her at her own game – she’ll be smiling, sweet-talking to try to confuse you, so respond in kind.
Be nice and show empathy, understand where she’s coming from.
She’s expecting an argument, so don’t give her one and watch as she recalibrates and adjusts her tactics accordingly.
Don’t get defensive or she’ll make quick work of you.
Tell her that you understand what she’s saying and that she’s right – this will calm her down and give you the advantage.
Putting you in control.’ Rory pauses for a breath before continuing.
‘Okay. I can do that.’
‘Round two: FBI mirror technique. Mirror her tone, her body language, repeat her words back to her. She really responds to this one and can’t help herself. It’s a hoot to watch.’
I bite the inside of my lip. I appreciate Rory’s help, but I think this is just too conspicuous. Like, she coughs, I cough? She crosses her legs, I cross my legs? I should probably tell Rory that YouTube isn’t how they train the real FBI.
‘Won’t that be obvious? Won’t she figure it out?’
Rory howls with laughter. ‘No way! No offence, but Lenka doesn’t think you’re anywhere near smart enough to try something like this.
She underestimates everyone. To her, we’re all just little people.
Pea brains. So, no, she won’t have any idea what you’re doing, and she won’t suspect a thing.
She’ll be totally absorbed in hearing herself talk to a captive audience of one. ’
I gulp back another glass of water.
‘Wonderful! All right. For the last round: if you’ve done everything correctly and it’s working as planned, subtly drop in a way you can be of assistance to her – whether that’s boosting her profile, sparing her from embarrassment or doing something she can’t do – let her come to the conclusion on her own.
She’ll become your biggest ally in no time; you’ve made her remember that she’s a genius.
’ He snaps his fingers in the air. ‘And that’s how to turn this around. ’
‘Do you honestly believe I can make this work?’ I ask, my voice tight with anxiety. My stomach churns, and I press my hands against it firmly, trying to calm the sense of dread.
Rory nods at me confidently.
I glance between Lenka’s door and him, gauging the potential for failure against possible success. Taking a deep breath, I finally meet his eyes. ‘Okay – let’s give it a shot.’
He smiles warmly as he presses both hands against his chest. ‘Team Wilder all the way. Daisy, you can do this.’
Maybe I can do this? Might I be able to actually pull it off?
After all, I’ve got this far. I’ve worked so hard.
I’ve got so much at stake with this project, I can’t just let it slip through my fingers.
My heart begins to beat a little faster; my hands start to tingle as I feel the courage and determination well up inside me.
Suddenly, I’m filled with this surge of passion that’s just begging to be released.
I take a deep breath and slowly exhale, feeling like it’s my moment to prove myself and show everyone what I’m made of.
Rory’s phone blares loudly before he quickly lifts the receiver.
‘She’s ready for you now.’
Ding-ding. Round one.