Chapter 9 Chapter nine
I took one taxi and two buses to Covent City.On the second bus, I looked around at the passengers and wanted to announce to all of them: I'm going to see David Selznick.The drop off was two blocks from Selznick Films.
The Studios is a stately Georgian building facing Washington Street.I recognized it immediately because the building appears in the opening credits of every David Selznick film.
I hurried in and there was a woman sitting behind a desk.I said, "I've got an appointment with Mr. Selznick's secretary." By now, at least, I was close to seeing David Selznick.
"what's your name?"
"Sidney Sheldon."
She rummaged through the desk and pulled out a thick package, "This is for you."
"Oh, I thought I'd see Mr. Selznick..."
"No, Mr. Selznick is a busy man."
So, I'll have to wait until later to meet David Selznick.
I took the bag and left the building and ran to MGM six blocks away, thinking about my plan as I went.The project was inspired by a conversation with Seymour, where we talked about his ex-wife, Sidney Singer.
Did you see her again afterwards, Seymour?
No.She's gone to Hollywood.She got a job at MGM as a secretary to a female director named Dorothy Azner.
I'm going to ask Sidney Singer for help.This is a very high bet, but I have no choice now.
I went into the MGM lobby and said to the guard sitting behind the front desk, "I'm Sidney Shelton. I want to see Sidney Singer."
"Sydney . . . oh—Dorothy Azner's secretary."
I hurriedly put on a familiar posture and nodded, "That's right."
"Is she waiting for you?"
"Yes." I said with absolute certainty.
He picked up the receiver and dialed the extension number, "Sidney Shelton wants to see you..." He repeated very slowly, "Sidney Shelton." After a while he And again, "But she said..."
I just stood there.Say yes, say yes, say yes.
"Okay," he put down the receiver, "she's waiting for you, room 230."
My heart finally started beating again, "Thank you."
"Take the elevator up, it's over there."
I took the elevator up to the second floor and hurried down the corridor.Sidney's office was down the hall, and she was sitting behind her desk when I entered.
"Hello, Sydney."
"Hi." There was no trace of enthusiasm in her voice.I suddenly thought of some other things Seymour had said to me: she hated me so much, and said she would never see me again.How will I be treated now?Will she ask me to sit down?Certainly not.
"What are you doing here?"
Oh, I'm just here to ask you to be my volunteer secretary for an afternoon. "Uh-hmm, it's a long story."
She looked at her watch and stood up, "I'm going to eat."
"can not go!"
She glared at me, "Can't I go to dinner?"
I took a deep breath, "Sydney—I—I'm in trouble." I told her the whole thing, from my fiasco in New York to my ambitious plans to become A screenwriter, who couldn't even pass the doorman of the film company, talked about David Selznick's call this morning.
She listened quietly, and after I finished speaking, she pursed her lips tightly, "You accepted Selznick's task because you expected me to spend the afternoon typing for you?"
It was a painful divorce.She hated me to the bone.
"I—I didn't expect that," I said, "I just expected to..." I was having trouble breathing, and I was a fool for doing it. "Sorry to bother you, Sydney. I have no right to make this request of you."
"Yes, you have no such right. What are your plans now?"
"I'm going to give this book back to Mr. Selznick. Tomorrow morning, I'm going back to Chicago. But thank you, Sidney. I can't thank you enough for hearing me out. Good-bye." ’” I started walking toward the door, my heart filled with desperation.
"Wait a moment."
I turn around.
"It's very important to you, isn't it?"
I nodded, so heartbroken that I couldn't even speak.
"Open this bag and have a look."
I couldn't understand it all at once, so I said, "Sidney..."
"Shut up. Show me the book."
"You mean you'll..."
"I've never heard anything so crazy. But I admire your will." For the first time a smile appeared on her face. "I'm going to help you."
I was suddenly relieved and couldn't help smiling.She is turning the pages of the book. "The book is thick," she said. "How can you expect to be able to write the outline by six o'clock?"
Good question.
She handed me the book back.I glanced at the title page and quickly got an idea of the general plot of the book.A romance without an end, the kind of story Selznick clearly enjoys doing.
"How are we going to do it?" Sidney asked.
"I'll read the book briefly," I said, "and when I figure out a plot, I'll dictate it to you."
She nodded, "Try and see if it works."
I sat down across from her and started flipping the pages quickly.After fifteen minutes, I had a clearer picture of the whole story.Then I started skimming the book, dictating to her what I saw relevant to the development of the plot.I was typing while talking to her.
To this day, I still don't know why Sidney agreed to help me.Was it because I had recklessly gotten myself into a situation I couldn't get out of, or was it because I looked really hopeless at the time?This question will never be answered.All I know is that she sat at her desk silently typing for me all afternoon as I flipped through the pages.
Time flies.Sidney said, "It's four o'clock." But we're only half done.
I picked up the pace and spoke faster.
It was exactly ten minutes to six when I dictated the thirty-page synopsis, two-page summary, and one-page review.
Sidney handed me the last page, and I said gratefully: "If there is a place where I need to work..."
She smiled slightly: "Just treat me to lunch."
I kissed her on the cheek, put the papers and books in an envelope, and rushed out of Sidney's office.I ran all the way back to Selznick Films, and when I got there it was only a minute to six.
I said to the same lady at the desk, "My Sidney, I want to see Mr. Selznick's secretary."
"She's been waiting for you," she said.
I walked quickly down the corridor, knowing that this was only the beginning.I read somewhere that Selznick himself came from a reviewer at MGM to today, so we have some common topics to talk about.
Selznick would hire me as a full-time reviewer, and I would have an office here.Finally I'll tell Natalie and Otto that I'm working for Selznick.
I went to his secretary's office.She looked at her watch as I entered. "I was worried you wouldn't be able to come," she said.
"No problem." I said in a nonchalant tone, then handed her the package, and she roughly flipped it over.
"Nice job." She handed me an envelope. "It's ten dollars inside."
"Thanks. I can write a synopsis anytime—"
"Sorry," she said, "our full-time reviewer will be back tomorrow. Mr. Selznick doesn't usually use outsiders. In fact, we came to you when we made a mistake."
I swallowed, "Mistakes in your busy schedule?"
"Yeah, you're not on our regular list of reviewers."
So, there's no way I'd be David Selznick's underling.It's impossible for us to gossip about his years as a reviewer.This hectic day is both the beginning and the end.At a time like that, I should be devastated, but strangely happy.Why?I do not know either.
When I got back to Grace's, the guys were waiting for me. "Have you seen Selznick?" "how does he look like?" "Are you going to work with him?" "This afternoon was fun," I said, "very interesting." Then I went back to my room and closed the door. I see the bus tickets on the bedside table.The ticket was a sign of failure, a return to the coat locker, the drug store, the parking lot, the life I thought I had left behind.I've come to a dead end.I picked up the ticket and tried my best to resist the urge to tear it in half.How can I turn defeat into victory?There is always a way, there is always a way. There is finally a solution.I called home and Natalie answered: "Hi honey. We can't wait to see you. How are you all?" "I'm fine. I have good news for you. I just wrote a script synopsis for David Selznick." "Really? Great. Is he nice to you?" "Well, it couldn't be better. This is just the beginning. The door is open for me here, Natalie. Everything will be fine. I just need a few more days." Without hesitation, she replied, "Yes, dear. Let us know when you get home." I don't have to go home. The next morning, I went to the station and exchanged the ticket that Otto had sent me.The rest of the time, I wrote letters to the literary departments of all the major studios. Here is part of the letter: Two days later, the phone calls started coming in.First 20th Century Fox, then Paramount.Fox asked me to write a synopsis for one, and Paramount for a screenplay.The price ranges from $5 to $10 per written synopsis, depending on its length. Every film company has its own full-time reviewers, and only when these full-time staff are too busy will they find foreign aid.I can only write the outline of one novel a day, and what I have to do is: go to the film company to get the book, go back to Grace's apartment, read the book, type the outline, and then send it to the film company.I get an average of two or three calls a week.I don't have time to look for Sidney anymore. To add a little extra to my meager income, I called a gentleman I had never met.Vera Vane had mentioned him on the drive to California.His name is Gordon Mitchell, and he's the technical director of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. I mentioned Vera Vane on the phone and told him I wanted a job.He was very enthusiastic, "Just right, I have something here that is very suitable for you to do." I was so excited that I could actually work in this prestigious society. The next day, I went to his office. "Your call is well timed," he said. "You come here to work at night and watch movies in the screening room." "Great," I said. "What about my job?" "Watching a movie in the screening room." I looked at him quizzically, and he went on to explain, "The Academy is testing film preservation methods. We use different chemicals to wrap different parts of a film. Your job is to sit in the screening room and take note of the Number of screenings per film." Then he added, apologetically, "I'm afraid it's only three dollars a day." "I accept." The first movie I watched over and over again was "The Man Who Lived Twice" and I quickly memorized every line in it.And just like that, I watched the same movie endlessly at night and waited for calls in my apartment during the day. On a fateful day, December 12, 1938, I received a call from Universal.I just finished writing a synopsis for them. "Is that Sidney Sheldon?" "it's me." "Can I come to the company this morning?" Another three dollars to earn. "OK." "Please go to Mr Taunsend's office." Al Taurnsend is a review editor for Universal.When I got to Universal, I was taken to his office. "I read the outline of the story you wrote for us, and it's very well written." "thanks." "We need a full-time reviewer. Would you like to come?" Will I offend him if I go forward and kiss him! "Yes, sir," I said. "The salary is seventeen dollars a week, and we work six days a week here. Your hours are nine to six. You start work on Monday." I called Sidney's office, intending to break the news and treat her to dinner. There was an unfamiliar voice on the other end of the phone: "Who is there?" "I'm looking for Sidney Singer." "she is not here." "Then when will she come back?" "Not coming back." "What? Who are you?" "I'm Dorothy Azner." "Oh. Do you have her new address, Ms. Azner?" "She didn't stay." I never saw Sidney again, but I never forgot how much I owed her.
Universal produced B-movies and was founded in 1912 by Karl "Poppa" Ramler.The company is famous for its frugality.A few years ago, the company approached the agent of a major Western star in a low-budget film. The agent laughed, "You can't afford him. He wants a thousand dollars a day." "No problem," the Universal executive swore. "We can pay a thousand dollars a day." The protagonist of the film is a masked thief.On the first day of filming, the director took the big name to shoot countless close-up shots at different locations.When it was time to call it a day, they told him his part was over.Then they found a small character and let him wear the mask for the whole film. I walked into the studio for the first time on Monday morning, full of curiosity.I walked through fake western towns, Victorian houses, the streets of San Francisco and New York, feeling the magic. Al Taurnsend made it my job to go through dozens of silent scripts and pick out those worthy of sound.Almost all scripts are of little value.I still remember a line describing the villain, which is still fresh in my memory: The Universal company under the leadership of Papa Ramler is very friendly and casual, without any sense of pressure, just like a big family. Now I get a paycheck every week and can pay Grace her rent on time.I report to the company six days a week, and I can't suppress the excitement every time I pass by the set. Many dreams are created here every day.I know this is just the beginning.I'm a reviewer at Universal, but I can start creating my own and then sell it to companies.I wrote to Natalie and Otto to tell them everything was going well for me.I have a permanent job in Hollywood. A month later, Papa Rummler sold Universal, and I was out of a job, along with everyone else.
I dare not be honest with Natalie and Otto because they will surely insist that I go back to Chicago.And I firmly believe that my future is here.I had to find another job—anything—until I got back into the studio. I check the newspaper's classifieds.One ad caught my eye: The Blunt Hotel is an upscale hotel next to Hollywood Boulevard.When I got there, the manager was alone in the empty lobby. "I'm here to apply for a switchboard operator job," I said. He looked me over. "Our previous operator just resigned and needs to be replaced immediately. Have you ever operated a switchboard before?" "No, sir." "It's really not a big deal." He led me behind a desk with a large, complex-looking operator panel for a telephone switchboard. "Sit down," he said. I sat down as promised.There are two columns of plugs and about thirty jacks on the operator panel of the switchboard, and each jack corresponds to a telephone in a certain room of the hotel. "See those plugs?" "Yes, sir." "They come in pairs, one above the other, and the bottom one is called the sister plug. When the panel lights up, you plug the front plug into the jack, and the caller tells you which room he's connected to, and then you Insert the sister plug into the corresponding room number, then turn the button to forward the call in. That's it." I nodded, "It's pretty simple." "I'll give you a one-month trial period. You work the night shift." "No problem." I said. "Let's start now." The manager was right.Operating the switchboard control panel is so simple it's almost a mechanized job.When the lights flashed, I plugged the plug in the first column into the jack, "Mr. Climan, please." I checked the passenger list. Mr. Climan lived in room 231. I plugged the sister plug into the jack corresponding to room 231 and pressed the button to connect to the room.It's that simple. I have a feeling that operating the switchboard control panel is just the beginning, I can move up to night manager and then maybe general manager, as this is a hotel chain it's hard to say how high I can go.I'd write a hotel script as an insider, sell it to a movie company, and then logically return to my dream industry. I've been working for two nights.At three o'clock this morning, a customer dialed the switchboard, "Please dial New York for me." He gave me the number. I unplugged the room and dialed the number in New York. After six rings, a lady's voice said, "Hello." "I'll turn the call over for you," I said, "just a moment, please." I picked up the plug to the room and stared at the panel worryingly.I don't know which guest called just now.I looked at those jacks on the panel, hoping for a flash of inspiration.I know roughly which area of the panel the guest's room is on.I started calling rooms in that area, hoping to find the guest.I woke up a total of twelve guests. "I connected you to New York." "I have no acquaintances in New York." "I connected you to New York." "Which one of your muscles is wrong? It's three o'clock in the morning!" "I connected you to New York." "Mistake, idiot!" In the morning, when the manager came to work, I said to him, "A funny thing happened last night. I..." "I've heard, I don't think it's funny. You're fired." Apparently, I didn't have a job as a hotel chain manager.I should find another way.
There was an ad for a part-time motor instructor and I got the job.Most of the students were scary: red lights meant nothing to them, they always seemed to get the brakes mixed up with the accelerator, they were all neurotic, blind, or just about to kill themselves.Every time I go to work, I feel like my life is hanging by a thread. I do part-time reviewers for different film companies, provided their own reviewers are too busy, so I'm not out of my mind.I wrote a lot of synopses for 20th Century Fox.The editor of this firm was a young and promising New Yorker named James Fisher. One evening, he called me: "Are you free tomorrow?" "Available." Another three dollars. "Come and see me at ten o'clock." "Okay." Maybe this is the first book.That's ten dollars.My wallet is already deflated again. Fisher was waiting for me when I got to his office. "Are you interested in coming to work here?" I was almost incoherent, "I—I'm interested." "Then you're hired. Twenty-three dollars a week." I finally returned to acting.
When I got back to Grace's, the guys were waiting for me. "Have you seen Selznick?" "how does he look like?" "Are you going to work with him?" "This afternoon was fun," I said, "very interesting." Then I went back to my room and closed the door. I see the bus tickets on the bedside table.The ticket was a sign of failure, a return to the coat locker, the drug store, the parking lot, the life I thought I had left behind.I've come to a dead end.I picked up the ticket and tried my best to resist the urge to tear it in half.How can I turn defeat into victory?There is always a way, there is always a way. There is finally a solution.I called home and Natalie answered: "Hi honey. We can't wait to see you. How are you all?" "I'm fine. I have good news for you. I just wrote a script synopsis for David Selznick." "Really? Great. Is he nice to you?" "Well, it couldn't be better. This is just the beginning. The door is open for me here, Natalie. Everything will be fine. I just need a few more days." Without hesitation, she replied, "Yes, dear. Let us know when you get home." I don't have to go home. The next morning, I went to the station and exchanged the ticket that Otto had sent me.The rest of the time, I wrote letters to the literary departments of all the major studios. Here is part of the letter: Two days later, the phone calls started coming in.First 20th Century Fox, then Paramount.Fox asked me to write a synopsis for one, and Paramount for a screenplay.The price ranges from $5 to $10 per written synopsis, depending on its length. Every film company has its own full-time reviewers, and only when these full-time staff are too busy will they find foreign aid.I can only write the outline of one novel a day, and what I have to do is: go to the film company to get the book, go back to Grace's apartment, read the book, type the outline, and then send it to the film company.I get an average of two or three calls a week.I don't have time to look for Sidney anymore. To add a little extra to my meager income, I called a gentleman I had never met.Vera Vane had mentioned him on the drive to California.His name is Gordon Mitchell, and he's the technical director of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. I mentioned Vera Vane on the phone and told him I wanted a job.He was very enthusiastic, "Just right, I have something here that is very suitable for you to do." I was so excited that I could actually work in this prestigious society. The next day, I went to his office. "Your call is well timed," he said. "You come here to work at night and watch movies in the screening room." "Great," I said. "What about my job?" "Watching a movie in the screening room." I looked at him quizzically, and he went on to explain, "The Academy is testing film preservation methods. We use different chemicals to wrap different parts of a film. Your job is to sit in the screening room and take note of the Number of screenings per film." Then he added, apologetically, "I'm afraid it's only three dollars a day." "I accept." The first movie I watched over and over again was "The Man Who Lived Twice" and I quickly memorized every line in it.And just like that, I watched the same movie endlessly at night and waited for calls in my apartment during the day. On a fateful day, December 12, 1938, I received a call from Universal.I just finished writing a synopsis for them. "Is that Sidney Sheldon?" "it's me." "Can I come to the company this morning?" Another three dollars to earn. "OK." "Please go to Mr Taunsend's office." Al Taurnsend is a review editor for Universal.When I got to Universal, I was taken to his office. "I read the outline of the story you wrote for us, and it's very well written." "thanks." "We need a full-time reviewer. Would you like to come?" Will I offend him if I go forward and kiss him! "Yes, sir," I said. "The salary is seventeen dollars a week, and we work six days a week here. Your hours are nine to six. You start work on Monday." I called Sidney's office, intending to break the news and treat her to dinner. There was an unfamiliar voice on the other end of the phone: "Who is there?" "I'm looking for Sidney Singer." "she is not here." "Then when will she come back?" "Not coming back." "What? Who are you?" "I'm Dorothy Azner." "Oh. Do you have her new address, Ms. Azner?" "She didn't stay." I never saw Sidney again, but I never forgot how much I owed her.
Universal produced B-movies and was founded in 1912 by Karl "Poppa" Ramler.The company is famous for its frugality.A few years ago, the company approached the agent of a major Western star in a low-budget film. The agent laughed, "You can't afford him. He wants a thousand dollars a day." "No problem," the Universal executive swore. "We can pay a thousand dollars a day." The protagonist of the film is a masked thief.On the first day of filming, the director took the big name to shoot countless close-up shots at different locations.When it was time to call it a day, they told him his part was over.Then they found a small character and let him wear the mask for the whole film. I walked into the studio for the first time on Monday morning, full of curiosity.I walked through fake western towns, Victorian houses, the streets of San Francisco and New York, feeling the magic. Al Taurnsend made it my job to go through dozens of silent scripts and pick out those worthy of sound.Almost all scripts are of little value.I still remember a line describing the villain, which is still fresh in my memory: The Universal company under the leadership of Papa Ramler is very friendly and casual, without any sense of pressure, just like a big family. Now I get a paycheck every week and can pay Grace her rent on time.I report to the company six days a week, and I can't suppress the excitement every time I pass by the set. Many dreams are created here every day.I know this is just the beginning.I'm a reviewer at Universal, but I can start creating my own and then sell it to companies.I wrote to Natalie and Otto to tell them everything was going well for me.I have a permanent job in Hollywood. A month later, Papa Rummler sold Universal, and I was out of a job, along with everyone else.
I dare not be honest with Natalie and Otto because they will surely insist that I go back to Chicago.And I firmly believe that my future is here.I had to find another job—anything—until I got back into the studio. I check the newspaper's classifieds.One ad caught my eye: The Blunt Hotel is an upscale hotel next to Hollywood Boulevard.When I got there, the manager was alone in the empty lobby. "I'm here to apply for a switchboard operator job," I said. He looked me over. "Our previous operator just resigned and needs to be replaced immediately. Have you ever operated a switchboard before?" "No, sir." "It's really not a big deal." He led me behind a desk with a large, complex-looking operator panel for a telephone switchboard. "Sit down," he said. I sat down as promised.There are two columns of plugs and about thirty jacks on the operator panel of the switchboard, and each jack corresponds to a telephone in a certain room of the hotel. "See those plugs?" "Yes, sir." "They come in pairs, one above the other, and the bottom one is called the sister plug. When the panel lights up, you plug the front plug into the jack, and the caller tells you which room he's connected to, and then you Insert the sister plug into the corresponding room number, then turn the button to forward the call in. That's it." I nodded, "It's pretty simple." "I'll give you a one-month trial period. You work the night shift." "No problem." I said. "Let's start now." The manager was right.Operating the switchboard control panel is so simple it's almost a mechanized job.When the lights flashed, I plugged the plug in the first column into the jack, "Mr. Climan, please." I checked the passenger list. Mr. Climan lived in room 231. I plugged the sister plug into the jack corresponding to room 231 and pressed the button to connect to the room.It's that simple. I have a feeling that operating the switchboard control panel is just the beginning, I can move up to night manager and then maybe general manager, as this is a hotel chain it's hard to say how high I can go.I'd write a hotel script as an insider, sell it to a movie company, and then logically return to my dream industry. I've been working for two nights.At three o'clock this morning, a customer dialed the switchboard, "Please dial New York for me." He gave me the number. I unplugged the room and dialed the number in New York. After six rings, a lady's voice said, "Hello." "I'll turn the call over for you," I said, "just a moment, please." I picked up the plug to the room and stared at the panel worryingly.I don't know which guest called just now.I looked at those jacks on the panel, hoping for a flash of inspiration.I know roughly which area of the panel the guest's room is on.I started calling rooms in that area, hoping to find the guest.I woke up a total of twelve guests. "I connected you to New York." "I have no acquaintances in New York." "I connected you to New York." "Which one of your muscles is wrong? It's three o'clock in the morning!" "I connected you to New York." "Mistake, idiot!" In the morning, when the manager came to work, I said to him, "A funny thing happened last night. I..." "I've heard, I don't think it's funny. You're fired." Apparently, I didn't have a job as a hotel chain manager.I should find another way.
There was an ad for a part-time motor instructor and I got the job.Most of the students were scary: red lights meant nothing to them, they always seemed to get the brakes mixed up with the accelerator, they were all neurotic, blind, or just about to kill themselves.Every time I go to work, I feel like my life is hanging by a thread. I do part-time reviewers for different film companies, provided their own reviewers are too busy, so I'm not out of my mind.I wrote a lot of synopses for 20th Century Fox.The editor of this firm was a young and promising New Yorker named James Fisher. One evening, he called me: "Are you free tomorrow?" "Available." Another three dollars. "Come and see me at ten o'clock." "Okay." Maybe this is the first book.That's ten dollars.My wallet is already deflated again. Fisher was waiting for me when I got to his office. "Are you interested in coming to work here?" I was almost incoherent, "I—I'm interested." "Then you're hired. Twenty-three dollars a week." I finally returned to acting.