Hello, Hollywood! (Backstage Pass Book #2) , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Janice Thompson

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118 pages

English

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Description

Athena Pappas is the head writer on one of the most popular sitcoms in television history. But when Vegas comedian Stephen Cosse is brought in to beef up the show's suddenly sagging ratings, she starts to worry about her job. Sparks fly as the competition--and attraction--between the two writers heats up. Athena has never had a problem scripting the romances of her characters. So why is her own love life so hard to script?With humor and a Hollywood-insider viewpoint, Hello, Hollywood! delivers lots of laughs as the characters discover that not being in control of the plot of their lives might just be the best thing that ever happened to them.

Informations

Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	01 septembre 2011
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781441234049
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0202€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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© 2011 by Janice Thompson
Published by Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
www.revellbooks.com
Ebook edition created 2011
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
ISBN 978-1-4412-3404-9
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
Scripture quotations are from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2010 by Biblica, Inc. ™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Published in association with MacGregor Literary Agency.
To my dog-sitter, Heather, who used incredible restraint and did not duct-tape my dogs to the ceiling while I was away.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
1: What’s My Line?
2: Family Affair
3: Howdy Doody
4: Two and a Half Men
5: The $64,000 Question
6: Hee Haw
7: Perfect Strangers
8: Jeopardy
9: Let’s Make a Deal
10: Married with Children
11: This Is Your Life
12: Laugh-In
13: The Facts of Life
14: Bonanza
15: Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?
16: Get Smart
17: Full House
18: The Mod Squad
19: The Price Is Right
20: Fast Forward
21: Happy Days
Special Feature
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Other Books by Author
Back Ads
“Tell me what you think about this idea.” I turned to face my fellow writers, my imagination shifting into overdrive as a clever scene unfolded in my head. “Angie and Jack are in a hut in the Amazon. They’re wrapping up their honeymoon—maybe packing their bags or something—when an unexpected monsoon hits. Within minutes they’re trapped inside the hut, water rising around them.” I rubbed my hands together, unable to contain my excitement as I shared the best part. “Only, it’s not really a monsoon, and they’re not really in a hut.”
“Huh?” Bob, the youngest in our band of writers, looked up from his spot on the sofa, his laptop nearly sliding to the floor. He scrambled to catch it, then steadied it on his knees. “What do you mean?”
Taking the empty chair next to the sofa, I laid out the rest of the idea. “I mean the whole thing has only been a dream. In reality, Angie is sound asleep in the bathtub in their Los Angeles apartment, and the water has overflowed. The scene takes place a month after she and Jack have returned from their honeymoon. She’s dozed off reminiscing about what a great time they had in the Amazon. Then she wakes up to find the bathroom flooded. Great, right?”
From his spot at the desk, Paul groaned, his thick black brows furrowing. “Athena, again with the Amazon thing? We closed out the last episode with that shtick. We’ve finally got the show’s ratings back up, and we need to keep them there. Rehashing a previously used story is a death sentence for a sitcom.” He rose and stretched, then leaned down and attempted to touch his toes—his usual routine after several hours of unproductive powwowing. When he stood upright, his cheeks were flushed.
“Yeah, network execs pay us to come up with new, fresh material every episode.” Bob reached for his coffee cup and took a swig, splashing some on the edge of the laptop. He used the tail of his shirt to clean it off. “Not the same old, same old.”
“But that’s just it,” I argued. “This will be fresh. I’m talking about a flashback scene. It’ll be a great way to transition the viewers from one episode to the next. We left them hanging, you know. They’ll expect us to pick up where we left off.”
Besides, guys, this is a great idea. Swallow your pride and admit that a female writer can come up with something brilliant every now and again. I reached for a piece of baklava from the tray on the desk and took a bite of the honey-encrusted goodness, grateful for the excuse not to speak. My gaze shifted to the piano on the far side of the room. I could almost hear the Amazon theme music playing now. Maybe before the day was out I could actually compose something usable for the episode.
“I was thinking we could start this episode with Jack and Angie on an airplane flying back from their honeymoon.” Bob put his cup down on the coffee table, his eyes taking on that familiar glazed-over look that so often accompanied one of his more far-fetched ideas. “Maybe a couple of the animals from the rain forest are on the plane in the seat behind them. The monkey and the . . .” He scratched his head. “What did we use again?”
“A macaw,” I reminded him, mouth still full.
“Right. The macaw.” He typed a few notes into his computer, then looked back up at me. “So, we give the animals dialogue. What do you think?”
“Talking animals?” Paul did not look convinced. He took a few steps in our direction, plopped down on the sofa, and gave Bob a “you’ve got to be kidding” look.
“Or . . .” Bob backspaced with a rapid click , click , click , erasing the words he’d typed onto the screen. “Maybe we give the animals thought bubbles or something like that. They can be talking about how happy they are to be coming to Los Angeles with the newly married couple. Then we can use the macaw and the monkey all season long as props.”
Paul shook his head as he leaned over to look at Bob’s laptop screen. “Look, I know we’re supposed to keep this show funny and all, but talking animals? We might as well be writing for Pixar or Disney. I don’t know about the two of you, but I signed on to do a weekly sitcom involving real people, not some animated show with talking monkeys and ducks.”
“Macaws,” I corrected after licking my sticky fingers. “A macaw is not a duck.”
“Technically it’s a parrot,” Bob added. “But if you want to nix that idea, I’m okay with it. Now that I think about it, it sounds pretty stupid.” He shrugged. “But hey, you know my motto.”
“Throw all of your ideas out on the table, even the really dumb ones.” We quoted his favorite mantra in unison.
And boy, was that talking animals idea a dumb one.
I released a slow breath, feeling the pressure of the situation. We had until five o’clock today to come up with a rib-tickling episode that our producer would put his stamp of approval on. Otherwise we might not have a show next week. And if Stars Collide didn’t air . . . I shuddered, thinking about it. We would air, even if it killed us.
From the looks of things, it might.
Paul rose and paced the tiny office, his nervous movements presenting yet another distraction. Suddenly he turned our way with a gleam in his eye. “Ooh, here’s an idea. Jack and Angie are talent scouts, right? They have one of the top agencies in L.A. with the most gifted up-and-coming young stars. Why not take advantage of that? If we want to keep this episode fresh, let’s incorporate the kids. It’s been weeks since we’ve really showcased our younger cast members. We’re overdue.”
“What do you have in mind?” I asked, my curiosity piqued. Writing for the kids was always a blast. Maybe Paul was on to something.
His soft blue eyes sparkled. “Remember that old Dick Van Dyke episode? The one where they were on a hunt for child stars to appear on The Alan Brady Show ? Every parent in the neighborhood showed up without warning so their kids could audition.” Paul pulled out the piano bench and took a seat, his face now beaming.
“Priceless,” I said, unable to keep a grin from erupting. “One of my favorites. So, what are you thinking? Variety show?”
“Sure, why not? We have enough young talent in the Stars Collide cast to pull off a variety show–type episode.” Paul chuckled and slapped his knee. “I can see it now. We’ll showcase the talent of the kids. Songs. Dances. Drama bits. You name it. The children will get a kick out of it, and all of those stage moms will be thrilled. What do you think?”
“I love it.” Clasping my hands together, I thought about the possibilities. This would buy us another week, and the audience would eat it up. I hoped.
Just then the door to our office eased open, and Rex Henderson stuck his head inside. The elderly man had served us well over the past several months in his new role as producer, and I had nothing but respect for him. He took a look around the room, his eyes widening. “You’ve changed the furniture in here.” His gaze narrowed. “Is that a new sofa? Looks like something I owned in the sixties.”
“Yep.” I pointed to the divan. “Got it at a garage sale.” I rose, excited to share my vision for the room. “We set everything up just like the office set on the old Dick Van Dyke Show .”
Rex’s eyes widened again. “Oh?”
“Yes, see where we’ve put the rest of the furniture?” I motioned to the chair I’d been sitting in, then gestured to the desk across the room. “Pretty clever, eh? Even have an old typewriter like the one they used in the show. And, of course, we kept the piano right where it was, so we can be inspired by music whenever we like. I think it’s the perfect space for a weekly sitcom team.”
“How’s it working out for you?” Rex asked. “Helping the creative flow?” He took a few steps in my direction, the wisps of soft white hair atop his head looking a bit unruly. His eyes narrowed as he took in the tray of baklava. I motioned for him to take a piece, which he did.
“Oh, well, you know . . . We just brought in the new furniture yesterday,” I said. “Haven’t really had time to see the long-term effects.” Hopefully it will work.
He plopped down onto the divan and bit into the pastry, a look of pure satisfaction settling over him. Good. If I couldn’t win him with my witty writing, mayb