“Call me Harv”

The career of a writer can be fraught with heartbreak, tragedy and disappointment. Especially for a writer like me who always aspired towards the highest forms of literature. And oh how I paid a price for my literary aspirations. Forced to live a life of abject poverty, degradation and feral cats

But at least I had my soul. And the comfort that I had never sold out.

But then one day, after decades of rejection slips and myriad humiliations, I finally got my “big break.” This agent from one of the biggest agencies in Hollywood contacted me and said they were eager to buy the film rights to my book, SURVIVING ON THE STREETS (Loompanics, 2001) and turn it into a major motion picture.

“Your book has it all, bubala!!” gushed the agent. “We’re talking summer blockbuster!! We’re talking 6 figure contracts!! We’re talking tie-ins with McDonalds merchandise!! Tom Cruise himself has expressed great interest in the project and wants to portray you in the film adaptation of your book!!”

“You’re kidding?” I said in disbelief.

“No I’m not!” said the agent. He raised his hand up in the air in a dramatic gesture. “Picture this! Tom Cruise IS Ace Backwords!!”

So finally after all these years of struggle, it looked like my dreams were about to come true!

“The head of the studio — one of the biggest studios in Hollywood — is eager to meet with you personally, Ace, to discuss this project!”

So an appointment was set up to meet the great man at his suite at one of the most expensive hotels in Manhatten.

So you can imagine my excitement and anticipation when I rang the buzzer to his suite.

My first inkling that things might be going awry was when he greeted me and I realized he was wearing nothing but a bathrobe. “Call me Harv!!” he said in a loud booming voice. He shook my hand vigorously. And held onto my hand for a longer than usual time to the point where I felt extreme discomfort.

“Would you like something to drink?” he said. He handed me a cold 40 of Olde English malt liquor. Obviously he had been studying me and my habits.

He began plying me with more and more glasses of OE. Things began to speed up at this point. And most of the details of my encounter with “Harv” are hazy in my memory.

But suffice to say SURVIVING ON THE STREETS was never made into a major motion picture. And I walked funny for several days afterwards.

Don’t let nobody tell you different. Hollywood is a boulevard of broken dreams.



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