For the Love of Money (55 page)

Susan sure got a new education after that. She could see my point about race and integrity clear as day. She said, “I can't
believe
this crap! A
Whoopi Goldberg
comedy? And a black woman can
no way
be this intelligent, right? Hell-lo, a black woman wrote the screenplay. I guess she's supposed to
fuck
her way to the top, like every other woman. That's realistic, right? Yeah! And how come a white person always has to show up and save the day? This is such
bullshit
!”

She was learning just how powerful racism was in America. I don't even believe I had ever heard her curse before. I was pissed off about it at first myself, but after a while it became comical to me. I had heard about the horror stories of script changes and Hollywood simply not getting black movies, but
damn!
When you come face-to-face with it, it's enough to spin your head in a full three hundred and sixty degrees like
The Exorcist.
It was really
wild!

I told Susan to calm down and just keep hunting. We knew that we were
onto something. A lot of the producers and studio people actually like me. They were shocked to see a young, unknown black girl with such a hot script. They just wanted to see how quickly we would bend. In the meantime, I had two out of six of my spec scripts produced for television, both on ABC for thirty thousand each. I mean, I still had to pay my damn bills, right?

Like Kendra had predicted, Susan and I finally struck gold with Studio D, a small, up-and-coming production company called Wide Vision Films. They asked us about the lack of sex in the screenplay as well. We pitched the film to a thirty-something producer named Jonathan Abner, who had moved up and over from music video production.

He said, “I love the script. I think it really has potential, but let's face it, sex sells. If you're not going to have any sex in it, you guys might as well take it to network television. I mean, we're talking about attracting an audience of maybe seventeen to thirty-five on this film, right?”

Susan nodded. “That's about right.”

“Well, it'll work. I can see that. And we wouldn't have to put much money into it,” he said. “It could do great as a low-budget film with a high profit margin. We could even cast an R&B singer in the lead.”

I was just listening. Sometimes when you listen, you can really hear how interested producers are in your pure script. If they start talking too much off the mark, then you know it's time to walk. Jonathan Abner sounded pretty reasonable, just cheap. However, what did I expect from a smaller film company?

“What do you think, Tracy?” Susan asked me.

I looked at Jonathan. He was brown-haired and tall. He looked younger than his actual age. He didn't even look right in his dark gray suit. He was probably more comfortable wearing grab-and-go clothes, like a true beatnik. I had to stop myself from laughing at him.

I asked him, “What singer would you have in mind?” just out of curiosity.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don't know, whichever one can act the best for the role, I guess. We could have a regular lineup of singers,” he joked.

I thought back to what Yolanda had told me concerning Tim Waterman at
Conditions of Mentality. He's weak. Press him for the job.
I smiled and felt comfortable that I could have my way with Jonathan Abner as well. He was already eyeing me.

“So, if I added a few sex scenes, and we decided on the lead, there would be a good chance to have
Led Astray
green-lighted at Wide Vision?” I asked him with a lingering stare. My eyes never failed me with flirtatious men.
Jonathan had most likely scored with a bunch of video honeys, and he was willing to try out different flavors. I could see it in his eyes.

He nodded and said, “Pretty much, yeah. I mean, I really like what you're doing with the script. It moves well, it's extra smart, and we could really do a lot of fun things with this. We feel like a little guy as a film production company, so we would love a chance to fuck the big guys,” he added with a boyish grin.

He was game. He had even gotten the script on his read. I looked at Susan and nodded.

“Okay,” I told Jonathan. “I'll add the sex scenes, and then we can have another meeting.”

Susan looked thrilled. I guess she got to keep her job.

“So, we'll be back in touch then. And thanks for your time,” she told him.

When we left their offices, Susan said, “Tracy, we don't have to go with these guys if you don't want to. I know you didn't expect a small-budget film with your screenplay, and if you want to try another crack at a larger film company, then I say we hold out and go for the gold.”

I had already made up my mind. I just had a feeling. I said, “If they follow through on letting my vision stand as I write it,
and
let me add as much input along the way, then I'd rather try it with them than to go with a bigger company that could run all kinds of game on us. I mean, Kendra was right.”

Susan asked, “Kendra was right about what?”

I smiled, forgetting that I hadn't talked to Susan about my chat with Kendra on black cinema in white America.

“Kendra said that
Led Astray
would be perceived as a radical black movie because it cuts too close to the truth and it's not a comedy.”

Susan smiled. “Well, like Jonathan said, they would love a chance to screw the big guys, so maybe this could be another strike of small gold that lights up the bank. Hollywood is full of small stories that went big. We could probably get a much better deal here, too. The bigger guys are pretty structured on how they like to do things, but smaller studios are willing to give you a lot more contractual leeway.”

She said, “But I would watch those sex scenes, Tracy. Just write in that they were climbing out of bed or something simple, because if you get too detailed and they like it, the producers will look for more of the same from you in the future.”

$   $   $

When I went back to the lab to retool my script, I ignored Susan's warning about the sex scenes. I definitely knew how to write them. I had early training in seduction and I knew
exactly
how to turn guys on, black, white, or otherwise. However, when I went to turn in the script and talk it over, Susan told me that she wouldn't be able to make it with me. I was a big girl about it. I didn't need her there with me per se, I just felt that something else must have been more important to her.

So I walked into Jonathan's office by myself to hand over the new script, and he had a softback copy of
Flyy Girl
in his hands. I damn near fell out on the floor, I was so shocked.

He smiled at me and said, “You're pretty modest. I didn't know you had a book out based on your life.”

“Susan sent you that?” I asked him. She had set me up again. No wonder she didn't come.

“Yeah, she said that I might want to look into this, and that you were really a passionate person who was playing it cool and incognito as a writer.”

I sat down and laughed it off.

Jonathan couldn't stop grinning. I could just imagine what he thought of me after reading
Flyy Girl, if
he had a chance to even read it, as flighty as many Hollywood producers were.

I said, “We all grow up, you know,” just in case he
had
read it.

“Yeah, but the raw passion; you don't grow up from that, it's always with you,” he responded. “After I flipped through your book, I saw a lot of similarities in you as a teenager and your character Cynthia as an adult. You're both very crafty, cool under pressure, and driven to get what you want. I think I love the script even more now. This book is a great back story,” he said.

“That means that you're interested in making this movie then,” I commented to make sure.

“Oh, definitely! We want it. The only question I have to ask you now is: Can you act?”

I just stared at him and smiled with my mouth open. “I'm gonna kill Susan,” I told him.

“I mean, let's look at it this way, who's gonna know how to play this character better than you?” he asked me. “Come on, Cynthia
Moore
? Tracy always wants
more,
right? Are you happy with just being a writer? Of course not.”

He was reading me like a champ. I hadn't even allowed myself a chance to think about acting much, I was just thinking about the power to create.
However, Jonathan was right, starring in the film was the ultimate! No one remembers who wrote the script unless you also directed the film.

I asked, “So, you would throw out the popularity of a singer for an unknown writer from Philly?” I was trying to back my way out of the immediate pressure, but I damn sure was willing to try it.

He said, “Are you kidding me? A lot of these singers need tons of makeup to look good. They can't necessarily hold the camera without movement or singing either, but when I look at you . . .” He stopped and shook his head. “Wow! You're just a natural beauty,” he said.

Watch yourself with this white boy, Tracy!
I told myself. He was really pouring it on.

I said, “Okay, cut the bullshit. Now I retooled the crip ...I mean
script,
” I corrected myself with a chuckle.

Jonathan broke out laughing. “See that, you can't even think straight now. You know you want the part. Go ahead and say it.”

I said, “I haven't even taken any acting lessons.”

“Well, take some. But a natural is a natural. You just go with what you feel. And I know you know what Cynthia feels, because you wrote the script. Most writers just don't look like you do to be able to play the part.”

“So, when would we be ready to start shooting the film?” I asked him, to see how much time I would have to prepare.

He answered, “No later than April of next year. That way we can make it an early 2000 release.”

It was late November 1998, and he was dead serious. I nodded my head, almost in a trance. It was really happening for me, at light speed, as if it was a fast-paced dream.

I said, “Okay, but if I stink, be gentle with me and whisper it in my ear.”

He laughed and said, “Deal,” and reached out to shake my hand.

As soon as I left and reached a telephone, I called Susan and caught her at the office.

“I am going to
kill
you!”

“For what?” she asked, halfway laughing. “You set me up.”

“You mean I got you an opportunity.”

“An opportunity to look like a damn fool,” I told her.

“Well, he was open to the idea, and I know that you're not some nerdy bookworm, because I've seen you get
heated
plenty of times, even with me. You just have it in you, Tracy. So I told myself, ‘Let's just try this out,' and decided to send him a copy of your book.”

I shook my head with the pay phone in hand and said, “Girl, I sure hope you know what the hell you're doing.”

Susan turned on this little-girl voice and said, “Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know that you were afraid of anything. I didn't mean to do it. Honest! I just wanted to be your friend. Please forgive me.”

I broke up laughing and couldn't even talk back to her. She had caught me off guard with everything, including the reverse psychology. Finally I mumbled, “I'll tell you one thing, you're
earning
your ten percent. Damn straight!”

Susan went back to her normal voice and said, “That's because I really like you. And I have a rule that I plan to stick to: Never represent
anyone
who you could not consider as a friend.”

I said, “That's an honest enough rule when you're first starting out, but we'll see if you stick to that when the big-money clients start calling and they happen to be real pains in the ass.”

Susan said, “They'll be a pain in the ass somewhere else, because I don't like pain. And
you're
a big-money client to me.”

I laughed and said, “Okay, well, we have to go out and eat or something tonight to celebrate now.
My
treat.”

“We can't celebrate yet, the work is just beginning,” she told me. “And if you can pull this off as an actress, I'm gonna get you the sweetest deal that I can get.”

I grinned and said, “Okay. I can't complain about that, as long as we get the creative direction that we want.”

Susan said, “Exactly. I'm with you on that.”

I hung up the phone and smiled. Susan was really impressive. I nodded my head and said, “That's my girl. I'm
glad
that I made her my agent. She really has my back.”

I have a vault filled with gold
and thousands of Benjamins
that belong to my tribe.
And when I get horny at night,
if I wanted a man
to even lick the crack of my ass,
he would pay me to do it.
And I wake up every morning and step on
every little nobody
who wouldn't give me the time of day
yesterday,
but now them same motherfuckers beg
to see me for tomorrow.
And I have never worn a damn
red and white Santa Claus suit,
so why is every day Christmas?
Then I become the Grinch
who stole it
whenever I say no.

Would you like to join my tribe?
It's fun!
But once you join us
and the vault door closes,
you can't get back out
unless you fall out
and end up strung out
and begging
to get back in.

Copyright © 2000 by Tracy Ellison Grant