Chapter 22
“We got it! We fucking got it! Take that, Tasha Collins!” Ingrid screams inside the taxi as Maggie high-fives her.
Maggie laughs. “That was amazing.”
Ingrid’s phone rings. It’s Charlie calling.
“Charlie.” She smiles into the phone. “Guess who just got Rebecca Thomas to give her another two years on the option?”
Ingrid puts the call on speakerphone so Maggie can hear. She grins at her protégée.
“You’re kidding! I had no doubt—but that’s fabulous! How’d you do it?”
Breathlessly, she tells Charlie her fresh take.
“I love it! It’s like a reverse Barbie, where the women are trying to find Barbie Land! I could totally see it!” Charlie exclaims. “And Rebecca was OK with it?”
“She ate it up. In fact, you can reach out to her for a little statement if you want to make an announcement.”
“Absolutely! We’ll get right on that,” he says. “Great job, Ingrid. You knocked it out of the park. Brilliant take!”
Ingrid gets off the phone. She immediately emails Mel to let her know the studio’s not moving forward with her other take.
She knows Mel’s been waiting, and while she usually prefers delivering disappointing news over the phone or in person, she doesn’t have the luxury of time.
She doesn’t want Mel to read the announcement first. As she’s finishing up her email, Maggie asks her a question that makes her head jolt up.
“So would I be writing the script that’s based on my idea?” Maggie asks.
Ingrid puts her phone down. She studies Maggie.
She knows she has to handle this delicately.
The girl just gave her a home run. But a take and a screenplay are two different animals.
The movie she’s just pitched requires someone to take the whole rom-com formula and turn it on its head.
Someone with know-how. With experience. With a proven track record.
It’s a matter of math, really. As amazing and fun as the girl’s idea is, she’s never written a script before.
It’d be like asking a guy on the street to do a surgery.
Gently, she says, “Studios, as a general rule, want a name.”
“I just thought…since it’s my idea,” Maggie says, blushing.
“And it’s a brilliant idea!” Ingrid offers. “But the thing about ideas is they flicker and dim all the time.” She looks sincerely into Maggie’s eyes. “I bet you have a thousand ideas in that brain of yours.”
“I do have a lot of ideas.”
“ ’Course you do. And some are going to work; some are not going to work.
The only way to tell…is to hone your craft.
Don’t worry about getting the credit and signing yourself up for every little thing.
Just focus on what’s in front of you and do a really great job.
Be patient. Prove yourself. That’s what greatness requires. You want to be great, don’t you?”
Maggie’s eyes shine. “I absolutely want to be great.”
Ingrid studies her. She can feel the hunger emanating from her.
The girl may want to be great, but she does not want to be patient.
Not that Ingrid blames her. She was that way, too, when she was young.
She smiles. “I wasn’t going to say this to you until I got back and finished the whole thing, but I took a peek at your novella… the one you left on the dining table?”
Maggie’s breathing hitches. She squeaks, “You did?”
“I think it has serious potential, especially if you’re going to flesh it out into a novel,” Ingrid says.
She knows she’s breaking her own rule not to overpraise new hires, but in Maggie’s case, it was earned.
There were parts of the novella that were engrossing.
What was even more engrossing was what Maggie told her on the plane about Vivian.
“I’d be happy to work with you on it if you’re game. ”
“I’m totally game!” Maggie says. “Are you serious?”
Ingrid nods. “You’ve got all the stories. That much is clear from the plane ride over. You just need to dig deeper. And who knows? If it works out, maybe I’ll even option it.”
Ingrid threw that last part out there on a whim, but as she says the words, Maggie’s hands fly to her mouth.
“Ingrid, I don’t even know what to say! That would be amazing!” she screams. The taxi driver looks back at them. Ingrid laughs.
“Then it’s settled! We’ll start when we’re back in LA.” She holds up a finger. “I just have one rule for all my creative partners.”
“Of course! What is it?”
“Complete trust,” Ingrid says. “Trust in the process. Trust in each other. Trust in the story. It’s not about our egos or our feelings. It’s not even really about us. It’s all about the story. Whatever serves the story best. The story is always our North Star.”
Maggie puts a hand to her chest. “The story is our North Star. I love that. I will absolutely serve the story.”
“Then you’ll do great,” Ingrid tells her.
She hopes the girl understands what she’s offering.
It’s something so much bigger than a little screenplay credit.
It’s the chance to build a name for herself that lasts.
To skip the fifteen-minutes-of-fame trap that has this generation hooked and achieve something that will live on after her.
But she’s got to be patient. Nothing great ever comes without sacrifice.
Her mind flashes back to her younger self, in Professor Vogel’s office, trying to learn this very lesson.
Was it uncomfortable writing his book for him?
Serving up her ideas on a silver platter only for him to slap his name on top?
Absolutely. It was infuriating. She gave him way more than just a little idea on an airplane.
But she soldiered on because she knew, even then, credit is cheap.
Proving yourself to the right person is priceless.
Eventually, he penned her a recommendation letter that changed her life. Just as she, too, will open doors for Maggie…when the time comes. But she must be patient.
“Thanks so much for offering me the opportunity,” Maggie says, reaching out an arm to hug Ingrid.
“No problem,” Ingrid says. They arrive back at the hotel. “You going to be OK for dinner?”
“Yes! I’m going out with some friends from college…unless you want me to cancel! We could work more on my book! Or—”
Ingrid chuckles. “No, go and have fun with your friends. Hang on to your ideas; we’ll talk more later!”
Maggie smiles, and they both step out of the car.
Ingrid watches as Maggie sprints up the steps.
She breathes in the scent of New York—the heady mix of power and dreams and sweat and sewage.
She loves that about the city. One wrong step and you can end up in the gutter. Or you can end up on top of the world.
She wonders which way the girl will go.