"It’s good, Elias," the producer said, tossing the pages onto a mahogany desk. "The bones are solid. The 'hook' of a detective who can only see in black and white? Inspired."
The producer sighed, a sound like air escaping a tire. "We want the idea . But the studio wants a 'name' for the screenplay—someone who’s written three blockbusters in the last five years. They’re bringing in Miller to do the actual pages." Elias felt the air leave his own lungs. "So I’m out?" credit with
The light in the studio office was dim, smelling of stale coffee and expensive cologne. Elias sat across from a producer who had just finished reading his thirty-page treatment. "It’s good, Elias," the producer said, tossing the