by Omar Tyree
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 wri
ters 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.”
Prisoners of Fame
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
May 2000
Road Kill was to begin shooting in the Nevada desert on Wednesday, May 31, 2000. The budget for the film was capped at about twenty million dollars. That was a big jump from the eight million that we used to make Led Astray. It also meant that I would have to break the forty-million-dollar mark at the box office in order to keep moving up. We were scheduled to shoot up until early August. So much for having family over for the summer. I wrote my cousin Vanessa a letter to inform her.
During my down time before our first location shoot, I began to work out twice a day on body strength, stamina, speed, and drills with Tae-Bo. I also attended a Beverly Hills weight room facility to work with personal trainers to bulk up for the role. Since I hadn’t been much of an athlete, my muscles got sore as hell, but the results were immediate. I felt stronger, faster, in shape, and I was toning up my little-used muscles.
On another note, for my sequel book idea to Flyy Girl, I selected the final poetry that I would use, as well as the style in which I would want the book written. The poem count came out closer to forty than the twenty-five that Susan suggested, but they were all relevant poems, and I didn’t know how many chapters I would have yet.
When I found the time, I sat down and had a long thought about sending Mercedes money in Philadelphia. In a way, I owed her because of the emotions that I had borrowed from her life to play the role of Cynthia in Led Astray. On the other hand, I didn’t want to spoil Mercedes. She needed to catch the fire from somewhere and keep it lit on her own. So I decided to write her a letter asking to let me sign for the house that she wanted. Once she paid off the rest of the mortgage, I would turn the ownership over to her. However, if she didn’t pay the mortgage, and she started acting up . . . then I would sell it. Actually, I didn’t believe that Mercedes would agree to that, and it would only make things more complicated between us. I just wanted to see how serious she would be. It was my challenge to her to get her priorities back in order with her life.
$ $ $
I called Susan over to the house on Thursday morning to catch up on all of our business. I had to get used to not being able to go out as much. I had two interviews set up at my house for that afternoon, one with Movie Life magazine and the other with Fade In:.
Susan walked in and said, “So, are you still thinking about leaving this place?”
I loved my Marina Del Rey home, and I had been there for less than a year. I hadn’t even bought a lot of furniture yet, because I was busy half of the time. It wasn’t as if I had a family or anything. However, all of a sudden, I was worth four times the property value where I lived.
I shook my head and said, “I just may have to deal with whatever, Susan, because I don’t really feel like moving. I just moved in here.”
“I know,” my girl said with a chuckle, “but that’s how fast you’re moving up.”
“So, what am I supposed to do, move to a two-million-dollar estate now?”
“Or at least one million,” she joked.
I shook my head again. “I think I’m gonna stay right here until something forces me to move, like an earthquake or a burglary.”
Susan said, “That’s what I would do. I’d stay put and save my money for other things.”
I said, “Okay, well, I’ve typed out the poetry, and it’s more like forty poems than twenty-five, plus I have the style that I want to write it in.” I handed her a copy of the poems and a one-page proposal on the style.
She took a seat on my sofa (in the middle of my wide-open family room) and looked through it. She began to smile and nod, liking what she read.
“This is going to blow people away,” she told me. “When most actors and Hollywood people try to write books, it’s so”—she stuck her finger in her mouth for a gag gesture—“but this is serious material here.”
I smiled, raising my hand. “I’m the E
nglish teacher with the master’s degree, remember?”
Susan broke up laughing. “Yeah, you’re a ringer, I almost forgot.” She stopped and asked, “Okay, so tell me now, Tracy, how much should we offer Mr. Tyree to ghostwrite this book before we move on to someone else? I hear that Eric Jerome Dickey is hot, and he lives in the area. We could get this proposal over to him in a day or two and see what he says.”
I smiled. My girl was ready to move the hell on from my Philadelphia connection. I said, “Well, let’s try it with the poetry and the proposal first, and see what Omar says before we move on. And if push comes to shove, we will move on.”
“Okay, so what’s the offer?”
I thought about it. “A half of a million dollars, and half of the royalty rights like before. And if he doesn’t jump at that, then fuck ’im; we go somewhere else.”
Susan smiled at me, but she also looked concerned.
“Half of the royalty rights?” she asked me. She turned to serious in a hurry and said, “No way! This is your poetry, your life, your proposal, and we’re having to practically beg him to do it.
“When you guys got together on Flyy Girl, I could see giving him half, because it was a real risk involved,” she said. “Neither of you really knew if it would sell, but to his credit, it did, mainly because of his ability to piece together your story in a very entertaining, fast-paced style that worked out very well for you. But this book is different. You’ll be a lot more involved this time. And with five hundred thousand dollars to write it, Mr. Tyree will already be making a killing off of you.
“I would offer him no more than fifteen percent, the limit on a literary agency fee,” she advised me. Susan knew her damn numbers!
I began to smile and couldn’t hold my tongue. I said, “You know my people would say that you’re being a little bit greedy right now, just like a J-E-W.”
Susan looked at me dead-eyed and said, “Tracy, this is business, and if I’m going to represent you as a friend and agent, I’m going to do my job.”
I broke out laughing and said, “I know, I know. You’re not offended by me saying that are you?”
