I’m in Hollywood

Eric put the somewhat cumbersome second-hand typewriter lightly on the desk, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and missed his thin and light laptop in his previous life. This was the second day after he discovered his metamorphic memory bank. After a day of thinking, Eric already had a preliminary plan for his future.

So he specially asked Jeff for a day off, spent most of the day shopping, and bought this second-hand typewriter. This is essential for realizing your plan.

After dealing with Ralph's funeral, Eric was left with only a few hundred dollars in cash. In Western countries with good welfare systems, people have never had the habit of saving. After the rebirth, Eric was fortunate. Fortunately, the loan for the house he lived in had already been repaid. Going to sleep on the street. In this way, the money to buy the typewriter is still a month's salary advanced by Eric to Jeff.

To realize your dream, you must first break into the Hollywood circle. Don't even think about being a director for the time being, and being an actor is not a suitable path for him. After much deliberation, the most suitable for him is to be a screenwriter. Although people always say that the status of screenwriters in Hollywood is low in this era, it is not the case, because the top gold screenwriters have all switched careers to become directors and producers, which is no different from the Hong Kong movies that are in full swing across the ocean.

Loading a piece of manuscript paper into the typewriter, Eric raised his hand and typed the next line of letters on the keyboard: Jurassic Park. That's right, it was the most profitable movie series of the 1990s.

Eric still remembers his previous life. He bought the Jurassic Park disc from a peddler who sold pirated discs, and watched it with a group of friends. When the lifelike dinosaurs appeared on the TV screen, that kind of The feeling can only be described in one sentence: My friends and I were stunned.

In my memory, the novel Jurassic Park was published in 1990, and the novel only has more than 100,000 words, so Michael Crichton must not have started writing it yet. Eric took it as his own with peace of mind, and he was to blame for not taking it. As for Michael Crichton, there is no such thing as Jurassic Park or Cretaceous Park for such a character whose life experience can be called fantasy.

The corners of Eric's mouth twitched slightly, typing on the keyboard while recalling the past. He's not writing a Jurassic Park script, but a novel. In his previous life, after watching the movie, out of curiosity, he found the novel of Jurassic Park and read it seriously. Now, to have the memory of a high school student with decent grades in school, it is more than enough to translate the Chinese version of a previous life into an English novel.

The reason why the script is not written directly is that on the one hand, the script is directly written and put into the film company, which is most likely to be thrown into the garbage bin as waste paper. The scripts that Hollywood film companies receive every day can basically be calculated by kilograms. On the other hand, Eric wants to firmly control the film copyright of this series in his own hands, because even if it is written as a script, it is picked up by a discerning film company, and it is made into a movie, then it will finally get the maximum Only those film companies can benefit, and Eric, in addition to the script remuneration of tens of thousands of dollars, will receive an additional dividend at most. Eric would definitely not do such a loss-making thing.

When the novel is published, Eric can firmly control the film and television copyright in his own hands, wait for the right time to sell it, and maximize the benefits he can obtain.

The time immersed in work always passed quickly, until the sky was completely dark, and Eric could no longer look down on the letters on the keyboard, only to realize that he had been writing for four or five hours in a row, and his stomach was numb. Started to coo.

stand up,

Eric looked at the thick stack of manuscripts on the desk and stretched contentedly. At this speed, he could complete the manuscript in about a week. After all, at this stage, he was still working in Jeff's restaurant. Otherwise, you will be hungry.

Walking into the kitchen, Eric made himself a simple dinner, rice with a tomato scrambled egg, typical Chinese home cooking, and as for the leftover bread, cheese, peanut butter and stuff in the fridge, Eric usually has It was eaten as a snack. Although he inherited the memory of the original guy, the eating habits of the Orientals are still deeply rooted in his bones.

After a simple dinner, Eric came to the balcony on the second floor, leaning on the railing and looking at the surrounding night scene. The apartment he lives in is a small yard of less than 200 square meters. It is a two-story house. Some unknown flowers and plants are planted in the yard at will. There is no hostess. The cheap father Ralph is also an informal person. Therefore, The life of father and son has always been rough. In my memory, when I was about seven or eight years old, the father and son moved from Renton, England to Los Angeles. Eric didn't remember why Ralph did this. He was too young at that time, and according to the clues in his memory, Eric couldn't figure it out, so he didn't bother to think about it.

After moving to Los Angeles, Ralph dragged little Eric for only two days in Los Angeles, and then he bought this small courtyard under the introduction of a real estate agent, and everything seemed very messy. Eric smiled, and it was the prudent concept of buying property of the Orientals in his bones again.

After staying on the balcony for a while, he was about to go back to his study to continue writing Jurassic Park when he suddenly heard a ping, which seemed to be the sound of some glassware falling to the ground. Eric turned his attention to the neighbor's house to the west. The home of the Langkels is a couple in their forties. The couple have three children. The eldest son has gone to college, a daughter is studying in a boarding middle school, and the youngest son is only seven years old.

The couple may have encountered a midlife crisis and often quarreled during this time. Although the relationship between the Eric family and the Langkel family is good, Eric does not plan to go to persuade them. Both of them are very restrained people and have no record of fighting. If he rushes to persuade him, he can only embarrass the other party.

After a quick, vague quarrel and the sound of several pieces of utensils shattering, the Langkel's door was slammed open. The host, Charlieson Runkel, was wearing a shirt and had messy hair and rushed out of the door, ran two steps and turned his head to the woman in the door and shouted, Enough, I've had enough, damn it, you bitch. If I hadn't moved to Los Angeles to marry you, I'd probably be a GM executive now, look what you're like now, my God!

Go to hell, said Mrs. Runkel, who always spoke softly, but at this time her voice was high-pitched and sharp: Among the three men who pursued me with you back then, one is now a California Congressman. One sells oil in the Middle East, oil you know? A boatload of profits is worth your hundred years salary! It's the old lady who should regret it. Now, go to sleep in your GM, dear 'GM high Tube'!

After Mrs. Lanker finished speaking, she threw out a black coat and slammed the door shut.

Charlson Runkel picked up his coat and patted it, then stood up and looked up just to see Eric standing on the balcony.

Sorry to bother you, Eric. Charlison smiled shyly and said to Eric.

It's okay, Charlieson, do you want to... come and sit at my house? Eric said.

Charlison shook his head and said, No need, thank you, I... I'm going to go shopping at the bar. Wait... Mary should calm down when she comes back in a while.

After Charlison finished speaking, he nodded to Eric, and started his car to drive away.

Eric returned to the room, remembering the scene of the quarrel between the Langkels and his wife, a thought suddenly flashed in his mind, sitting at the desk, loading a piece of manuscript paper into the typewriter, the thought just gradually became clear.

Eric has been thinking about what to write in his first script for the past two days, and now he has the answer. The script was tailor-made for him, um, because of the relatively distant age, a lot of details need to be revised, but these are not problems, and the selling point of the script is not in those details.