rosemarywisdom

Singapore

nice to meet you... i'm estella grace.

from sydney and austin, but currently living in singapore.
you built me palaces out of paragraphs

if sunny v. is the official older sister, i'm the cool aunt.

black lives matter

Message to Readers

New story idea I had. Hopefully you like. Most of the actors are made up, due to the fact that I want to create a bunch of fake movies and needed actors in them. Enjoy so far - part two coming. This (and part two and three) reads like a TV pilot.

down sunset boulevard (everybody wants to be famous, part one)

June 2, 2020

FREE WRITING

5

december 31st, 1999
new year's eve
6:00 pm

dover heights
sydney, australia


a spacious apartment, furnished tastefully with a distinct resemblance to a hotel room - everything matches. there's clarisse, going through a coat closet. and there's elenore, sitting at a desk in front of a computer monitor, staring at a blank page.

clarisse: You've got to be kidding me, Ellie.

elenore: I was dead serious! C, I told you I wasn't going to go. You know how I feel about New Year's.

clarisse: Girl, it's been two years. Two consecutive New Year's Eves. I get that you wanted to get out of L.A. I even get that you wanted an unconventional holiday this December, what with your crazy boss and the crazy deadlines you always seem to get. But you've done nothing but work ever since you arrived here two weeks ago! Take a break; take the night off!

elenore (hesitating): I have ideas to pen.

clarisse: Look, you can hide in your work all you want. But then that's keeping me from my job as your own unconventional free publicist! (smiles) And count yourself lucky, because my other clients all have to pay. (sighs) Come on, E. You gotta get out there tonight. Drink some champagne; have some fun!

elenore: I'm not in a really fun mood. Not on New Year's.

clarisse: Well, I can't pretend I don't know what this is about. (she puts her hand on elenore's shoulder) Ellie, it's been two years. He's engaged again now. I think it's time that you move on. Because this (she gestures to elenore's desk, papers spread everywhere around her) - this one-dimensional, workoholic, shell of my best friend - isn't healthy. (pause) Have you eaten today?

elenore (sighing): No.

clarisse: And there you go. You're going out with us tonight.

elenore: I don't want to go to that party.

maria, entering: What's up, girls?!

(hint: she didn't say girls.)

elenore: Hey, Maria.

clarisse (still talking to elenore): You're going. How could you not want to go?

maria: Yeah, how could you not want to? It's a Hollywood party - down under!

elenore (to maria): The only reason you came with us to begin with was that you were following the production of David Tennant's new movie and hung around the Opera House all week to try and catch a glimpse of him on set.

maria (facing clarisse): Is this about Thomas?

clarisse: Of course it's about Thomas. You know how Ellie gets around New Year's. It was their holiday.

maria: Ellie. Elenore. This is Stephen McAster's party. As in, Country Man Stephen McAster. As in two-time Oscar winner Stephen McAster. The only reason he's in Australia to begin with is because he's in the David Tennant movie Fox is keeping under wraps. The one I'm unconventionally following while it's still in reshoots and development. This party is crawling with A-Listers and it's by invitation only. Our legendary publicist friend Clarisse Kramer - thanks, C. - was able to score us invites through Stephen McAster's assistant-

clarisse: Second assistant, actually. The first assistant won't talk to publicists.

maria, unfazed: Through Stephen McAster's SECOND ASSISTANT. Do you know how many people get the chance to go to a Stephen McAster party?! No one!

elenore: You do.

maria: And I swear to god, I am so underdressed. I need my cocktail dress. The red one. You think I can pair it with-

clarisse (abruptly): Elenore, what were your plans for this evening?

elenore: I was... I was going to stare at a blank document for an hour and a half, maybe catch up on ER, watch the fireworks on TV. Then maybe call my parents after midnight; wish them happy 2000.

maria: Elenore. This is the biggest party in Sydney and it's packed with Hollywood stars. People onset with David Tennant. Stars vacationing, stars who live here. It's even got Australian movie royalty. That's a whole other demographic. It's nowhere near L.A and you don't even have to worry about running into Thomas, least of all with... whatever. Point is... this party... everyone's going to be there. A-Listers who matter - you name 'em, they're going to the party at Potts Point. You could smell the Oscars a mile away. Angela Delpacchio - she's going. Michael Montez - he's going. Katrina Rivera - she's so going. Diego Rocco and Leo Stone-

clarisse (to elenore): You can come right back to your writing. What do they need you to send across, anyway? You're on vacation.

elenore (miserable): It's this week's episode of Trenton. It's my job to proofread their scripts. Over and over and over again. I'm no writer - just a glorified script consultant.

clarisse: I can't believe you still work at that place.

(hint: she didn't say place.)

elenore: 
It's cable TV. My target audience is people who've just moved house and don't have access to the good channels, soap opera fans crawling the dark web looking for something new to watch, and people who wish to subject themselves to seventeen seasons of crap.

maria: Hey! I watch your show.

elenore: Trenton is not my showTrenton has no genre and barely any trace of a budget. The scripts they send across make no sense and the characters are almost laughable. For its groundbreaking work in mixing genres, I don't see comedy on that list.

clarisse: See? You need a break.

elenore: No. See, I can't figure out how people can watch a... what was it they called Trenton? A psychological crime thriller neo noir Western, set in a fantasy world. (sighs) I think I preferred working with my independent films, although we had even less budget.

maria: Well, I think Avenue was totally robbed at the Golden Globes this year.

elenore: Thanks for trying, M... but I'd never get nominated for anything like that. The Academy would rather have a stop-motion movie win Best Picture before they'd go crawling through the furthest reaches of the Hollywood dumpsters, looking for a copy of Avenue(pauses, goes to the window) Look at us three. A writer, a publicist and a... what was it you did again?

maria: Celebrity consultant. I'm a celebrity consultant.

elenore (shaking her head): A writer, a publicist and a celebrity consultant... just trying to get by.

clarisse: Then stick it to 'em, Elenore. Write a flick that the bigwigs up in Tinseltown can't turn away even if they wanted to. Write something controversial. Something daring. Something that'll stir conversation. Be the Marilyn Monroe of the Screenwriters' Guild.

elenore: And get what back? Dear Miss Grace, thank you for applying to the Hollywood Film and Media Industry. We regret to inform you, however, that Hollywood is fresh out of writers at this time, so you can just toddle on back to that sad little hole of a town you crawled out of. In summary - you'll never make it here. Sincerely yours, The Academy.

clarisse: I won't believe that. Not by a long shot. Now pick up that defeatist attitude of yours, young lady, zip yourself into your hottest outfit, and stop feeling sorry for yourself. Maria's right.

elenore: No.

maria: Yes!

clarisse: We've got to learn to live a little. (pause) As your publicist, Elenore Grace... I say we're going to Stephen McAster's party, and we're going to drink, eat those little finger aperitifs, and have a good time!

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