Anne of Green Gables: The Continuing Story Page #3

Yes, ma'am.

You've got to continue

your own writing,

not working on

someone else is material.

It's all right.

I really want this job.

I intend to have Winfield

publish a book of mine

if it's the last thing I do.

Forever and forever.

Always forever.

Now and forever.

Forever into eternity,

by Anne Blythe.

By Anne Shirley.

Forever into eternity.

You'll jinx yourself

with insipid titles like that,

miss Shirley.

Don't be embarrassed.

Half the people in this building

are writing books

on their lunch hour.

You are...

Aren't you...

Jack Garrison.

It's, uh, it's a pleasure

to meet you, um...

All Mr. Owen ever talks about

is your latest manuscript.

A real page Turner

according to him.

That's one way of putting it,

seeing he hasn't

even seen it yet.

Will you pass

this material on to Mr. Owen?

It's the story outline

of my latest book,

according to the terms

of my contract.

Certainly.

My lawyer will follow up

before my next draft.

You know I have a few moments.

Why don't you tell me

about your story?

Maybe I can help you come up

with a decent title.

Well, um...

I haven't finished it yet.

I was hoping, if I came up with

a really gripping title,

it might twig further ideas.

Oh, no, no, no, you're going

about it all topsy-turvy.

You must absolutely always start

with a firm premise

and a solid ending.

Well... Actually,

I do have that.

It's the story

of a young teacher.

A missionary... set in the

himalayas...

who tames the heart

of a British colonel.

Oh, please.

I don't mean to laugh,

but you got

better ham in your sandwich.

Well, I've been reading

all of your works.

They tell me they want to find

the female bookend to you.

And I'm also condemned as a hack

in any literary circle.

Aim much higher

creatively, if you want

my opinion, miss Shirley.

Mr. Garrison's father

was the top writer

in the firm for years before

he died, miss Shirley.

Luckily, young

Mr. Garrison here has

followed his father's success.

No, true success

requires passion and a vision,

not just dollars

and cents, Mr. Owen.

Delightful as it has been,

miss Shirley, I do hope

we get to do this again.

Good day.

Good day.

Good luck.

This is the

story outline...

According to

the terms of

his contract... he

said you'll hear

from his

lawyer shortly.

Yes, I'm sure that I will.

Thank you.

Why the long face, miss Shirley?

Ah, this is very frustrating.

I misplaced something yesterday.

It's nothing really.

Well, you'd better

put a smile on.

Mr. Winfield wants you

up in his office immediately.

I'll be along in a minute.

Jeez...

Apparently Jack Garrison

has taken

quite a liking

to you, miss Shirley.

Don't ask me what sort of antics

he's up to now,

but apparently his lawyer

has requested that you,

and only you, act

as his editor for his new book.

So we'd like you to read

the material

and then meet with him

to discuss it, hmm?

I've never edited

anyone's book other than my own.

Isn't there someone

with more experience?

No, not really.

Besides, the material's

unpublishable,

at least by this firm.

So we want you to meet

with him, humour him,

but by all means, make clear

to him in no uncertain terms

that unless he's prepared to

deliver us a new adventure plot

instead of this... Intellectual,

political manifesto,

I'm going to drop him

as an author.

Full stop, not another word.

Do we understand each other?

Isn't that rather drastic, sir?

This...

Will clearly articulate

our position.

Are you sure I should be

the one delivering this message?

Oh, yes.

Yes, Owen agrees

that this is...

the best way to

keep the situation

cheerful... so,

off you go.

And remember,

we want adventure, not art.

Anne, by the way...

Don't you let him lay

a finger on you.

We go through this ridiculous

dance every year, miss Shirley.

He believes he's writing

the great American classic

or some such nonsense.

Good night.

And you are a valued employee,

miss Shirley.

Could you please ring

Mr. Jack Garrison's room?

Say that miss Shirley is

here to meet him in the lobby.

Right away,

miss.

Mr. Garrison's room, please.

Hello, Mr. Garrison, there's

a miss Shirley here at the desk.

To meet you. Oh.

Yes, sir.

As you wish, sir.

Mr. Garrison is, uh, indisposed

at the moment.

He wants you to go up and wait.

He'll be a few more minutes.

I'd prefer to wait

here in the lobby.

He said he wasn't coming down.

It's the third floor, suite 308.

Oh, dear, I've disturbed you,

Mr. Garrison.

I was told

you were expecting me.

No need to apologize.

It's entirely my fault.

I, uh, I dozed off.

Why don't you come on inside?

And you can give me

Winfield's notes...

And your

own notes.

I'll wait out here in the hall,

sir, while you read the letter.

That would be rude of me,

to leave you in the hallway.

Please.

That manipulative old despot.

What were his exact words again?

I heard him say if you didn't

deliver another adventure

instead of this political piece,

you'd be dropped

by Winfield Publishing,

full stop.

I've spent the better part

of the bloody advance.

Well, it seems to me that

one more book the top

of your head is better

than getting involved

in some legal wrangle,

especially if they

force you to give back

such a large advance.

I just don't

have it in me.

One more leads

to one more

leads to one...

This current piece

is genius, sir.

But how can they possibly

publish a chronicle

on the poverty-stricken

of Mexico

living in the wake of

Teddy Roosevelt's rough riders?

They can sell

a telephone book

with my name and

the right cover.

Books are

packaged goods to them.

Sales are down with the war.

Your reading public

is diminishing.

I could make up

some excuse for you

if you need more

time to reflect.

No, don't go, don't, don't.

I have a proposition for you.

Sit down, please.

Mr. Garrison...

I haphazardly picked this up

yesterday... When we met.

I'm sorry.

I hope you don't mind,

but I read it.

And I have to tell you

how often I laughed

and cried.

You make me want to quit writing

the junk I write for good.

I was looking

everywhere

for this.

I was moved despite myself.

Once in a lifetime you meet

someone who you consider

is the kind of...

Creative individual

that you wish you...

no.

I wish I could be.

Please, Mr. Garrison.

The compliment is

a welcome tonic

for someone who's never received

the kind of success you have.

I suggest you decide

what you want to do

and get back to me...

Mr. Winfield.

Wait, I haven't finished.

Miss Shirley, wait.

If you don't listen,

I'll jump.

I'll throw myself at your feet.

You're drunk. Besides,

people who do it

never talk about it first.

No, don't!

Mr. Garrison, whatever it is,

your book is not

a matter of life or death.

If what Winfield wants

is the next

female best-seller, it's you.

I'd have to submit it

under a pseudonym like...

let me submit the manuscript

under both our names.

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