Fancy moar Phan Phicshun ?

[Antoine]

Hello again.

Moar fan fiction coming. And yet again a wall of text. Tho i like photographs, I'm in a "make your own movie" mood these days.

Besides, and for a reason I can't understand, I feel uneasy looking at the photo gallery here. Something is missing. I feel frustrated by just staring at jpegs on a screen. Likewise, I bought "Reality Bites" on Friday -never seen it before- but stopped the movie just after a few minutes. Frustration again. I need to know who she really is, and another movie doesn't help. I tried to watch one of the TV interviews that are posted online, but it's even worse : makes me feel like a deranged pervert looking thru a keyhole. Should i call my psychiatrist ?

So... let's see what I can do with a little imagination and these few braincells of mine that survived polluted drinkwater, nicotine and 15 years in the French national education system.

Same disclaimer as before : I try my best to write correctly in English, bear with me.

And of course, if you guys don't like it, or think that it's uncalled for, let me know : I will stop posting this journey to Ryderland.

Edit : err... this is leading me a bit further than I initially thought. I'm on page 60, and still not there yet. But i know the end, at least.

[Antoine]

Now is the time to change for a new reality bubble, and enter one a tad closer to Reality (but remember, what we call "reality" is just another shadow of Amber). Make it 0,6 on the Reality Scale.

First reality bubble was pure fantasy (0,4 on the Reality Scale). I wrote my fan-fiction and posted it here.

But this is the 21st century, baby, with social medias all around.

What happened, in this new bubble, was this :

The agent of one Winona Horowitz had hired a part-time PR woman, who's job was to check the Internet a few times a week to look for gossips and possibly defamatory content. Of course, wfzr.net was on her watch list, but in the "innocuous" section. She checked it nonetheless : one can never know. And found the post entiteled : Fan fiction (more or less).

Accustomed to reviewing massive amount of data in no time at all, she skipped directly to the end of the story just after reading the first post. The last two lines were enough to reassure her : odds were that this was just another innocent story. Unusual, but benign. She nonetheless copied and pasted the lot in an e-mail to Leslie Schubert*, and forgot about it.

Leslie took a brief look at the e-mail, printed its content, and slid it in her purse to read at home. It was nearly 6 pm, and she was to meet an old college friend at Spago, a restaurant just a few hundred yards away from her office.

The discussion, of course, is none of our business. But what is important is that at some point in the discussion, her friend, Caroline Herbert,  needed a sheet of paper to write down a few things, so Leslie gave her one of the pages she printed earlier, judging that the content was benign. In the end, she had covered two pages of various notes about scrapbooking tricks.

Back at home, Caroline took her notes out, and here eyes were caught by what was printed on the other side. She started reading what she thought looked like a kind of script. In doubt, she called back Leslie : it could have been important, after all.

- Hi, it's me again. I've been looking at the papers you gave me earlier. You're sure it's not important ? I mean, the stuff printed on the back. It looks like a script or something.

- Oh, no, not at all. Just some kind of... thing... essay... whatever... we found on a web forum.

- It's not a movie ? 'Cause I sort of... like the plot.

- To be honest, I haven't read it yet. Lengthy piece, and I had a long day. Dunno what it is, and frankly, I don't really give a damn as long as the legal department has nothing to say about it. What's in there ?

- I don't really get the whole picture, but it's a scene between Winona Ryder and a bloke in a car. Looks like a love story or something. I kinda like it. Not very original, but nice. A bit bland, perhaps.

- Winona, really ? Well if it's bland, it's none of my business.

And they both hung up.

Leslie took out the remaining pages of her purse, and started reading. The last two pages were missing, so she fired up her computer and accessed her mail client to read the rest.

- You're right, Carrie. Nice but Bland.

The following morning, the North Santa Monica Boulevard was a mess, so she turned left on North Beverly Drive, hoping to reach the Wilshire Boulevard via the Brighton Way. But there, she was blocked by a delivery truck. So she waited. And gave a second thought about what she had read the previous evening.

A movie... based on a scenario written by an anonymous bloke on the web. Perfect example of user-generated content. Very "web 2.0". Hmmm... Would the press buy it ? Why not ? A kind of "mister nobody takes it all" case. A maverick.

The truck finally moved on, and she was at her office in no time. She punched a speed-dial key on her mobile phone :

- Andy ? Would you be so kind to come and see me up there, please ? I need a piece of advice.

A few minutes later, Andrew Harris, the Internet guru of the company, stepped in.

- Could you have a look at that ? We found it on a forum.

Andrew took the sheets, and started reading. He had barely finished the first page when he asked :

- Where does this come from, you told me ?

- A website. A forum in fact.

- Let's have a look at it. There are things I don't understand.

Leslie opened her laptop, launched the browser, and copy-pasted the URL she had.

- Hmm... I see. Fan-art. The first post was missing in what you gave me. Now I get it. Well... what am I supposed to do with that ?

- I was thinking : all this fuss about user-generated content, you know. Could we use this ?

- Talk to the legal egg-heads for that. It's not my job.

- No, I mean, how would people react, or even the press, if someone made a movie based on a fan-fiction ? You see ? The maverick effect, the scenario from nowhere.

- Uh... Dunno. Never gave a real thought about that. Usually what you find online is crap, anyway.

- Sure. But this is not a montage of pictures with treacly music on top. It's not even the beginning of a scenario, but it could be something worth... exploring. The press might like it, and web users also, knowing that the writer is one of their own.

- Maybe. Can I keep this ? he asked, pointing at the sheets.

- Yup. Sure.

- And... aren't we supposed to apply a strict Unsolicited Submission Policy in this company ?

- This is different : it wasn't sent to us, we found it.

- Found it ? Not exactly. But never mind. Talk to you later.

- K, thanks.

* Leslie Siebert is listed on the intarweb as one of Winona's agent. Dunno whether this information is true or up to date. I mentioned her just for the sake of proving my l33t sKillZ at typing words in Google. Meh.

[Antoine]

A few days later, Andrew knocked on Leslie's office.

- Remember that... piece you found on a forum ?

- Yes. So ?

- What do you think ?

- Not much. Been busy lately. You ?

- I think we should... show this to good friend of mine. He's a re-writer, but also a journalist.

Leslie winced. Andrew bent forward, and lowered his voice :

- Yeah, I know... but this guy is a real friend. I know he can keep a secret.

- A secret ? What is so secret here ?

- Well... I think this is the kind of thing that has a strong potential if you're the first one to use it. After two of three films using the same trick, people get bored and don't pay attention anymore. But if you're the first one to do it : bingo !

- I see... You're sure about this friend of yours ?

- Positive ! No e-mails, just a phone call, we have lunch together as soon as he can, I show him the material, he gives me his feed-back, that's all.

Leslie shrugged :

- Give it a try. We'll see.

- Right. See ya.

Leslie waived.

Two days later, Andrew met his friend in an anonymous cafeteria in Alhambra.

- So, what's up ?

- Tony, I would like you to have a look at this, see what you think about it.

Tony started to read. After a few lines, he raised his head.

- Where does this come from ?

- A forum.

- Hmm... Tony nodded and resumed his reading.

After 10 minutes of slow perusal, he finally put down the sheaf. He frowned :

- What's the big deal ?

- We were wondering : how would the press react if one made a movie based on a scenario posted on a forum by an unknown dude. Provide the movie is OK, of course.

Tony sighed.

- Depends... This piece needs a serious overhaul. Why would Winona be alone in France on some back-country road in the first place ? That doesn't make sense.

Andrew shrugged :

- We will change it. Assume she was on holiday instead, or something else... I don't care about that : what bothers me is the potential interest of the press in general, and the movie press in particular.

- I see. Well... to be honest, if the movie is good, this anonymous screenwriter story could... yes... appeal to some of the journalists out there. Romantic stuff, blablabla... Joe Doe getting instant fame. Pretty much like winning the lotto.

- You really think the press would buy it ?

- Probably. But this guy is not a professional. How will you deal with him ? Or simply take this and have a go without telling him ?

- Risky. The egg-heads won't like it. Especially if this bloke notices it, and I guess he will some time or another. "Prior art", etc.

- Meh... Anyway, there is not much at stake. Try. I think the press will like it if it's well presented.

- OK. Thanks for your help. Oh, and the meal is for me.

- OK, thanks. See ya.

[Antoine]

- So ? asked Leslie, when Andrew was back at the office.

- He thinks we should try it. There are good chances that the press will react favorably, and I'm pretty sure it's a story bloggers will love. This... scenario needs to be re-written, of course, but there is nothing really wrong with it in the first place. The story is... logic. There are no gross mistakes, if you set aside this improbable trip alone in France on a Sunday...

- Perhaps I should give a call to Winona. Even before looking for a re-writer, or even before trying to get in touch with this... Antoine.

- You think so ?

They both fell silent for some time. Finally, Andrew said in a thoughtful voice :

- Maybe you're right. This is most unusual. Why not do it the other way round ? Ask an actor what he thinks of a scenario in alpha stage, he added with a chortle.

Leslie started to tap her lips with her fingers :

- But... let me think... From the beginning, we assumed it would have to be Winona. Yet... it could be someone else. Anybody else, in fact.

Andrew lifted his eyes to the ceiling, and remained silent for a few seconds.

- I... I can't tell. You know her better that me. I don't know this... Antoine. How he would react. We could also say "f*** it" and get along without him. Tricky situation. Ask legal perhaps ?

Leslie shook her head.

- Too early. All we have is a semi-script and the opinion of your friend. I'd better ask Winona how she feels about it. We will have another point of view. She's not only pretty, you know. There is a functional brain behind this face of hers. Oh ! and get that snide look off your face ! No machos in my office !

Andrew covered his head with his arms, pretending to parry. Leslie continued :

- In fact, I kinda trust her feelings. If she doesn't like it... well... we have myriads of plan B around. Next step would be to ask this Antoine if he would sell us this piece.

- Or even better : give it to us. One can never know, with fans.

- Or completely refuse. They have strange reactions sometimes. But if Winona is OK, it will be a strong argument. After that, we will look for a re-writer, and get in touch with producers with a far better idea of what can be done.

After Andrew left her desk, Leslie took out her Blackberry and wrote a short SMS :

Hi. Do you have time for a little chat ? Not urgent. Might interest you.

She looked at the screen for a second, and erased the last sentence before hitting the "send" key.

The reply arrived a few minutes later :

No prob

Leslie got on the phone :

- Hi, it's Leslie, she said, using the over-enthusiastic voice she had with actors.
 
- Hi, Les.

- 'Sup ?

- Not much. 

- Look, err... something came up, and I wanted your opinion. It's a bit unusual... Anyway : guy posted on an internet forum a kind of scenario. And you're in it. Nothing fishy, everything is fine, but I was wondering... Would you be kind enough to take a look at it ? Tell me frankly what pops up in your mind.

- I... don't understand. A forum ?

- Yes. It's... kind of a strange idea... although... there are some positive points.

- This is odd. Besides, I'm a bit busy right now.

- Oh ! It's not urgent. I send you the address by e-mail, you look at it when you find the time. It's... not even work in progress, it's an idea we had, Andrew and I. Andrew... You know... Andrew Harris, the guy in charge with all our social media strategy here.

- Yeah, well... ok, send it to me. I'll see... what I can do.

- OK, thank you. Talk to you soon. Take Care. Bye-bye.

- Bye, Les.

Leslie moved back into her chair, and closed her eyes. She was a tad skeptical about all this, and only half-heartedly believed that it wasn't just a complete waste of time.

Some 380 miles from there, Winona was staring blankly at her phone with a pout. What was the meaning of this ? An agent calling an actor because a dude posted something on a forum ? She wagged her head and picked up the thick screenplay she was trying to memorize.

Later that evening, as she was checking her e-mail, she hesitated a bit before opening what Leslie had sent her. She sighed.

- As if I had nothing better to do.

She opened the e-mail. There was just a URL in it. She checked that the anonymizer software was running, like his lawyer insisted she had to use wile browsing the web, and clicked on the link. WFZR. "Mostly harmless", had said Leslie, tho Winona doubted she voluntarily quoted Douglas Adams. Let's see... She started reading.

- Sure, Wilbur. I always drive rented cars alone in foreign countries, just for the pleasure of crashing them on a desert roads... what a jerk, she commented with a wince.

She kept on reading nonetheless. When she finished, she closed the browser with exasperation :

- Who do you think I am ? Some kind of churlish, selfish... damn ! Of course I would have waited for you ! Or at least checked outside. And I would have called back : as if I wasn't aware that your mobile phone could be out of range. That's the second point of the plot : both our phone don't work ! Jeeze !

On the other side, she thought, if fans always behaved like this guy, my life would be far easier. Or... less complicated. No paparazzi... No rumors...

- Quit dreaming ! she snapped.

She curled in her seat, the chin on her knees, her eyes unfocused.

Men... Why did they complicated things ? A simple smile would be enough. Why the urge to prove things ? Or justify themselves ?

All this wording was obviously not the one of a 14 years old. Who could he be ? He said English was not his mother tongue.

Since the plot takes place in France, I assume he's French, she thought. The writing is correct, but not stellar, tho it's explainable. Hum...

She leaned forward, re-opened the browser, and checked the "History" tab to access the forum again. She copied and pasted the text in a word processor, deleted the images, chose a suitable font, and printed the file. She lit a cigarette while the printer was buzzing under the desk. Before closing the laptop, she scrolled to the end of the thread :

- Nice T-shirt. Too bad you got the meaning wrong, pal.

She picked up the pages, grabbed a pencil, and moved to the sofa. There, she rolled herself in a thick white blanket, and started reading again, pausing sometimes to think, her eyes half shut.

After an hour, both sides of all the pages were covered with annotations, arrows, and scribblings. At the thought that she might fax the lot to Leslie and let her sort out the mess, she smiled. She rearranged the sheaf, dropped it on the coffee table next to the sofa and stretched.

- Oooh... That's all for today. Time for bed.

Before leaving the room, she had a last glance to the papers :

- Good night, mister... Antoine. Hope you don't take this all too seriously.


Leslie let a few days pass, and then sent another SMS to Winona. The answer surprised her :

Rewritten my part, will send it asap

When she checked her mailbox the next morning, she found the original text annotated in green, with parts rearranged. The only commentary was : "Half an hour. Max. What am I supposed to do with that ?".

She tried to call Andrew, but he was on voice mail. She printed the file she had received (fortunately, as a senior manager, she had access to a color printer), promising herself to take the time to read it in the evening.

[Antoine]

Later that day, Andrew called her back :

- Hi. You tried to call me ?

- Yup. Got Winona's answer. It's... well... she rewrote her part. Haven't read it yet.

- Can you send me a copy ?

- Sure, wait a sec.

She made the necessary manipulations on her laptop, and continued :

- This doesn't surprise me that much : she likes to write.

- OK, I got it. Let me have a look at it and I call you back.

- I'll do the same.

They hung up.

Leslie changed her mind : she decided to read the modified version on the spot. Other stuff could wait a few minutes. Andrew obviously read faster than her : she got a reply while she was still in the middle of the story :

Far better, but still needs improvement. Talk to you tomorrow morning.


The next morning, was waiting for her outside her office. He had in hand what evidently looked like yet another scribbled and annotated version of the work.

- So ? she asked, once she was seated at her desk.

- Like I said, far better. But still, it's a short movie. 30 minutes maximum.

- That was Winona's thought also. But it's easy to fix that : she calls her back, and they live happily ever after again, blablabla. Tons of handkerchiefs spoiled, she wins an Oscar, and shabam : I get a promotion.

- Maybe... Or maybe not, he added after a few seconds. I mean... it's good enough this way. A short movie. Low budget. And above all, you can't realistically expect a full-blown scenario coming from an internet dude.

- Short movie ? Too marginal. I don't like it.

- Hmm... maybe you're right. Nonetheless, now that we have Winona's response, let's get in touch with this Antoine.

- How ?

- Easy : get in touch with the forum administrator. He must have a valid e-mail address for this bloke. He gives it to us, we send him an e-mail, see his reaction.

- Oh... I'll do that right away.

- I still think you should talk to legal.

- Not now. After I have his answer.

- On the website, you should have an e-mail address for the administrator, he said on his way out of the office.

- Where ?

He stopped and walked back to her desk.

- Let me see that. Andrew leaned in front Leslie's laptop, and typed the forum address. After a few seconds, he said :

- There you go.

- Thanks. You're sure it will be the right address ?

- Forums like these need registration. You must give a valid e-mail address to post on it. Now the question is : will he check the mailbox ? Try : we will know soon enough.

Andrew left the office, leaving Leslie wondering about the content of the e-mail she needed to send. She finally opted for a direct approach, stating who she was, and requesting the e-mail address of Antoine "for mild legal reasons".

[Antoine]

She got the reply an hour later. Now... how should the next mail be formulated ? Let's try to flatter him :

Hello,

My name is Leslie Schubert. I'm Winona Ryder's agent. I read what you posted on the WFZR forum, and I think it's very interesting. I'd be glad if we could have a little discussion about it : your writing has a true potential.

Best regards,

Leslie Schubert
Senior Manager,
Full Bloom Agency
9350 Wilshire Blvd
Beverly Hills, CA 90212
Phone: +1(310) 274-1212
Fax: +1(310) 276-4545


I don't check the mail address she had used that often. It's a "sleepy" one I use when I need to register on a forum. So I got her mail 4 days after Leslie sent it.

"Fishy" was my first thought. I checked the sender address, looking for telltales of spoofing. Nothing. The e-mail looked genuine. My answer was nonetheless a cautious one :

Hi,

Sorry for the delay : I don't check this mailbox that often.

I'm the author of the text you mentioned. How can I be sure you are the one you say you are ?

A.

At the reading of this, Leslie frowned. She forwarded a copy of the e-mail to Andrew, asking for an advice.

He's being prudent. On the Internet, nobody knows you're a dog. Don't be irritated. Write him a polite answer telling him that you understand his qualm, and  suggest to give him a call.

So Leslie, biting her lips, wrote back :

Hello again,

I understand your reaction. How can I prove to you that I am in effect Winona's agent ? Call you perhaps ?

Best Regards,

Leslie.

My reply was a short one :

Hi,

I will call you tomorrow, at noon. Suits you ?

A.

She replied :

Make it 11.30. My extension is 07.

And there I was, wondering what all this meant. Her agent ? Legal trouble perhaps ? No... a lawyer would have sent me a letter written in Klingon instead. Hmm... 11.30. 9 hours lag. Half past eight in France. I shrugged :

- On verra bien.

The next evening, I launched Skype, copied the phone number from her e-mail after checking it matched the one posted on the Full Bloom Agency website, and waited till the connexion was made. I had thought a lot that day about what Leslie could come up with, yet it was all but mere speculation.

- Full Bloom Agency, how can I help you ?

- I'm trying to reach Leslie Schubert, extension 07.

- Just a second, I'll put you through.

- Thank you.

- Leslie Schubert ? she answered. 

- Hi, it's Antoine.

- Oh, hello there ! How do you do ?

- Fine. You wanted to talk to me ?

- Err... yes. I find that what you wrote is interesting, but I have a few questions I would like to ask you.

- Go ahead.

- Why did you write this text ?

- It's written on the post : I felt like writing something about the way I could meet Winona.

- Oh, errmm... yes, of course. So you're a big fan of her ?

- Not exactly. I was looking for an actress... that is not... Can't really find the word. Without whim ? One that... seems to be gentle. You see ?

- Yes, of course. And what do you plan next ?

- What I... plan ? Nothing. It's written, posted... that's all.

- You said that it would make a perfect scenario for a short movie, tho.

- It's far from perfect, and besides, it's not a scenario, more of a... draft ? Is that correct ?

- Yes, a draft. But... it could be rewritten. I mean... We could make a movie... a real movie of it.

Ooh... here we are...

- Maybe. I'm not a movie maker.

- What do you do for a living ?

- I... errr... write stuff. Not important.

- Anyway, this is a serious proposition. Of course, it's not done yet, we're still in a very preliminary stage... but I really think we could make a movie based on your idea.

- Maybe. What comes next ?

- I showed your writing to Winona, you know, and apparently... she liked it.

Oh... dear... I shuddered.

- She even re-wrote it partially... her part I mean.

- Can I read it ?

- Err... no, in fact. She hasn't send it to me yet, Leslie lied. But I can forward it to you as soon as I receive it.

I didn't reply, trying to think where this was going.

- Hello ? You're still there ?

- Yup. I don't know what to think. I need time to consider this. Can I get back to you in a few hours ?

- Sure, sure. There is no rush. Can you give me your personal e-mail address ? That would be easier for me.

- Hmm... I will check the one we used before more often.

- Well, give me at least a phone number ?

- I have you phone number, that's enough for now. I will answer you, don't worry. I have to go, now : dinner's ready. See ya.

- But... wait ! What's the problem ?

- I need to think this over. I'll call you back, promise. Bye.

And I killed the line.

What. Was. This. Mess ? I leaned back on my chair, arched my back, and took a deep breath. Well... I had played it roughly, to say the least. Damn... What if I completely f**ked up ? What should I do next ?

[Antoine]

In her office, Leslie hung up the phone, furious. Who was this jerk anyway ? No name, no phone number, no e-mail address ? Who does he think he is ?

Vexed, she threw the pencil she was holding across the desk and reached for her mouse to stop the recorder she used when she had dubious phone calls to make. The recorder itself was a software installed on her laptop, linked to the phone line : the discussions were recorded in MP3 format, and the resulting file came with various information about the time of the conversation, the caller IDs, etc. The whole lot was time-stamped and hashed with a digital certificate so that it could be used as proof in front of a court, if necessary. The legal department was very proud of the software, and used it very often.

She listened to the recording again. Maybe she had tried to push him too hard for a first contact ? Telling him that she couldn't sent him the revised version was a good idea, tho : God knows what he would have done with it. Perhaps brag on the forum ?

- Bloody fans !

She sent an e-mail to Andrew, with the MP3 file attached. She commented :

Puzzles me. Complete paranoid. What should we do ? Drop it ?

Andrew took his time to answer :

Look : this guy is a complete nobody, and suddenly the agent of his favorite actress shows up, out of the blue, and tells him that his "message in a bottle" has reached the right shore, spot on. He knows nothing about our job, or the market. I will send him an e-mail, see what he has to say.

But before Andrew could do so, Leslie had received an e-mail from me :

Hi,

I'm sorry I hung up. That was rude. Please accept my apologies.

What do you really mean by "making a movie" based on what I wrote ?

PS : my name is Greg, btw.

She promptly forwarded the mail to Andrew, and answered :

Don't apologize. I'm sure this came as a shock for you. I can assure you that I am dead serious about this project. And I repeat, Winona likes it also.

There are a lot of obstacles left, tho. It's far from done, so let me consider the situation. I will speak to you as soon as I come up with a serious plan.

She also forwarded the reply to Andrew, with a simple comment :

Bingo !

5.500 miles away, I also sat back at my desk, and whispered :

- Bingo. Now... the tricky part.

It was time to play dead, and wait 'till I got more news from Leslie.

[Antoine]

In Los Angeles, Leslie and Andrew had met the head of the legal department, who involved a specialist in electronic copyright. The idea was to negotiate a standard author contrat.

By e-mail, Leslie arranged a conference call.

- Hello again.

- Hi. And I'm really sorry for last time.

- Don't mention it. It doesn't matter. So... I talked to the legal department, and we would like you to sign a CONTRACT, so we can move on. I can send it to you by mail, you print it, and mail it me back signed. From there on, we will ask a re-writer to turn it in a real scenario.

- What do I have to do ?

- Nothing. Just let us handle this, I will send you the scenario as soon as it's finished, and of course, you will have your say if it doesn't suit you.

- Hmmm... What if we met in person instead of discussing this on the phone ? What if I came to see you ?

- You mean... Coming to Los Angeles ?

- Yes.

- But... where do you live ?

- Paris, France. You see, since the last century, they invented something call the -air quote- airplane. Nifty. I could be there... next week ? Tuesday ?

- This is nonsense ! You're not going to fly six thousand miles just to sign a contract, are you ?

- Why not ?

- We don't even have a budget yet !

- Who's talking about a budget ? I have at least 15 days of holiday to take. I can be in Los Angeles next week.

- Look... this is...

- Let me check on a travel website, I will mail you my date of arrival. 'Till then, take care. Bye bye.

Leslie remained speechless, so I hung up.

Leslie stopped the recorder.

- This is madness ! This guy is a maniac ! No way ! I'm killing this project. And have all this bullcrap removed from this damned website ! Sweet Jesus !

- Easy, easy, said Andrew.

- No ! This has gone too far ! I'll send him an e-mail right away and cancel the whole thing. I'll have his nipples ripped off by the security if he ever boards a plane !

Andrew raised his hands :

- OK, OK... calm down. I will get in touch with the forum administrator to have the posts removed. And sent to this bloke an e-mail explaining him that we don't want him around.

In the meantime, I was checking the flight to Los Angeles, pretty sure that in front of the fait accompli, they couldn't refuse to see me. But there was still one very tricky aspect to negotiate. The ticket was 600 euros... Worth any cent if I could find a way to see her.

The e-mail I received from one Andrew Harris an hour later torpedoed my illusions to smithereens.

- Et merde...

At least, I had tried... I sat motionless in front of my computer for a while, abashed. Sighing, I checked the WFZR website : my two posts were gone already. These guys weren't wasting time. I selected the file named Winona.doc and the related photographs, and dropped them in the trash can before emptying it. And I turned off my computer. San Francisco, suddenly, felt like billions of light years away. And I had crashed my X-Wing Fighter...

[Antoine]

Judie Prince was sitting at her desk, checking what news she could pick for her daily column. Editor for the New York Post, she was using a clever software that scanned automatically sources of information online, mainly blogs and forums, in search for gossips. Fans really did a great job in picking stories. Small ones, of course. But sometimes it lead to something big. And Judie needed something big.

The software had checked the WFZR, and flashed the corresponding URL. Judie clicked on it, read the first few lines, and shook her head :

- And here comes prince charming... Pathetic.

She closed the forum, and resumed her scrutinizing.

Judie Prince happened to be married to a journalist, Edward Prince, who was in charge of the New York Times' movie pages. When she drove home that night, she was nearly involved in a car accident between two cabs. Telling that to her husband, she remembered what she had read earlier that same morning.

- By the way, I tripped upon something this morning. One fan writing a kind of script involving Winona Ryder. Ridiculous. Groupies writing scripts...

Her husband shrugged :

- Maybe this way we'll see some more quality scenarios coming from Hollywood. What I saw lately was appalling. I must have an interview with her in a few days about her last movie. Might be funny to ask her what she thinks about it.

- Yeah... Or else boring like hell. Come on ! This is bullcrap.

- Or maybe not. Do you remember where you saw this ?

- Some kind of fan forum, let me remember... Winona's... home, or  something like that.

Edward lit up his computer. They both sat next to each other.

- It's... this one, Judie said, pointing to a result.

Edward clicked on the link.

- I can't remember where it was. Try this section ? I says "Fanart".

But the post was no longer there, removed by the forum administrator a few hours earlier.

- Strange. It was there, I'm sure. Let me check on my own computer.

She opened her laptop, launched a browser and her news crawler, that kept a log file of what it had found. She showed the screen to her husband.

- See ? It was there this morning. Maybe I could... yes, check the cache.

But she had viewed so many pages that day that the cache contained no relevant trace.

Edward felt a tickling at the back of his head, like each time something looked bizarre.

- Censorship ? A disgruntled writer posting a fragment of a script ?

- Or maybe just an offending post that got removed.

- Maybe. Or maybe not. Usually they leave the post but erase the content, saying it infringes something or another, and lock the post. Serves as a warning for others.

Edward made a mental note to himself : ask Winona what she knew about all that, at the end of his interview. Judie laid the whole thing aside : she had better to do. 

[Antoine]

So a few days later, just before ending his interview with Winona, he asked her about the content of the forum. She hesitated before answering. Why the question ? Sure, Edward was one of the few decent journalists around, one you could trust to keep something for himself if you asked to. They had known each other for years, and there was a real sympathy between them although they never met in person. Yet she wasn't aware that he was married to Judie, who signed her articles using her maiden name.

- I... I don't know what to answer, frankly, or why you ask me. I saw this... text. In fact, Leslie, my agent, send it to me, I read it, made a few modifications... quite a lot, in fact... but I had no news after that, and I don't think it was... serious.

- Well, the post has been removed, apparently.

- Removed ? I wasn't aware of that. Anyway, it's not that important. Fans occasionally come up with strange ideas.

- Was it that bad ? I mean... offensive ?

- Oh, no, not at all. It was... nice, in fact. Not usable per se, but... it was a nice idea, a tad unrealistic, tho. Please, don't write about this. It's not important at all.

- OK. I won't mention it. Thank you very much for your time, and err... good luck with the other interviews. I know you're not so fond of them, he added in a friendly voice.

Winona sighed on the phone :

- It's always an immense pleasure to answer the same stupid questions all over again coming from you colleagues. Oops... sorry, I wasn't thinking of you, Ed. Bit tired.

- That's all right. I know how they can be sometimes, he answered with a smile. Good luck. Bye bye.

- Bye, Ed.

And she hung up. Ten more interviews to go today. God... how she hated this this part of her job.

Back at home that evening, Edward told his wife what Winona had said. Judie remained silent for a few seconds. Maybe it wasn't a big story. But a case of censorship involving a fan, about a innocuous post ?

The next day, she shuffled through her contact list, and called directly Leslie Schubert.

- Hi, it's Judie Prince, from the New York Post. I'm calling because I saw a post on a forum, involving Winona Ryder. I think you know what I'm talking about.

On the other side of the line, Leslie turned white :

- No, not really.

- This post was censored. I was wondering if you were involved. 'Cause Winona isn't, so it could be you.

She used bluffing as one of here main techniques to extract information from people. Leslie was a professional, and was aware of this trick, only she didn't know what Judie knew, so Judie had a pocket pair of aces, and Leslie was playing in the big blind.

- I don't know what you are talking about. We've never been involved in such activity.

- You're sure ? Because this post was completely deleted, not just locked or partially suppressed.

- We do not interfere with such forums, answered Leslie, using her "I know what I'm talking about" voice.

- But you know that this post existed. You sent Winona a link to the forum.

What the hell ? Where did she get that information from ?

- I'm pretty sure I never sent such a link to Miss Ryder.

- Strange... she told me otherwise. That you sent her a link, she read the text and made a few corrections, replied Judie, pushing one piece of information after another.

- I... I have no memory of that. This must be some kind of mistake.

- OK. I was just checking. Thanks for your time, bye bye.

Judie put down the phone, and whispered :

- Liar !

[Antoine]

In Los Angeles, Leslie was breathless. How on earth did she came up with this ? She picked up the phone.

- Andy ? Could you come up here please ? With Jane. It's urgent.

- I'm on my way.

When he and Jane -the PR manager in charge of Winona at Full Bloom- were in, she summed up the discussion she had a few minutes earlier, and briefed Jane on what had occurred for the last three weeks or so.

Jane, as usual, bit her thumb before answering :

- This is bad. It could backfire. Of course, it's not Winona's fault, she has nothing to do with al this, but... if the New York Post publishes something, it will be "Winona censors a fan". Not "Winona's agent censors a fan".

- Call Judie back ? suggested Andrew.

- No way, snapped Leslie. This will only tell her that she is right. Best course of action, Jane ?

- Wait to see if the New York Post publishes a paper, have a pre-written statement ready in case they do... that's all I can think of. Unfortunately, all we can do is wait.

- OK. Can you do that right away, please ? Right in the middle of the promotion tour of the movie, it could be devastating, with hordes of websites yelling "first amendment, first amendment !".

Jane left the office.

Leslie and Andrew remained silent for a while.

- Really thought we got rid of that maniac, Leslie finally said, in a whisper.

- Yyupp... Besides, I got an answer from him that I never forwarded you because I thought you were not in the mood. From his point of view, he was just being arranging, eager to help the best way he could. He thought coming to Los Angeles was a way to show his good will. He also wrote it could have been a misunderstanding between us and him, because of cultural differences.

- Bullcrap. I still believe this guy is a maniac.

- Maybe, maybe not. He sounded sincere, and truly worried he offended us. I assure you.

Leslie sighed.

- I'm worried. This could lead to even more trouble.

She couldn't be more right.

[Antoine]

In New York, Judie started typing her article. Writing for a tabloid requires special skills, the most important of all being the ability to suggest without saying. So the article was voluntarily vague, but precise enough to give the impression to a casual reader that Winona had ordered the post to be censored on a whim. She chose from the picture library a fuzzy photograph of Winona, and wrote under it : "Has Winona Ryder trampled the First Amendment ?". Never, ever, forget the question mark.

Her Chief editor read carefully her article, corrected a few works, and finally looked up to Judie.

- You sure of that ? Where did you get that story from ?

- I tripped on the original forum with my crawler, and Ed, my husband, got confirmation from Winona herself. I called Leslie Schubert, Winona's agent, and it was damage control from one end to another.

- OK. This goes on page ten, with the movie news.

- Page ten ? But...

- Judie ? Nobody gives a damn about that forum or whatever. It's a good paper, but the news in itself is far from stellar. Page ten.

- OK... You're the boss.

- Damn sure I am, he replied abruptly.

The next day, the story was published. Full Bloom had subscribed to a service provided by a company that scanned the news for a list of keywords. Since Winona was a customer of Full Bloom, her name was on the list, and the New York Post article ended up in Leslie's inbox, in both PDF and text format.

- Crap.

She picked up the phone :

- Jane ? The New York Post has published it.

- Damn. Which page ?

Leslie checked the PDF copy.

- Page 10.

- Send it to me, I will finish the press release based on what's in the article.

The story, in the beginning, drew little attention. But then, someone posted a fragment of the original text in the comment section of the newspaper's website. Blogs started to quote it. And the situation went out of control. Called by a first journalist, Winona invented an excuse to hang up, and switched the line so that all the calls to her personal cellphone were redirected to Leslie's office. There, a person was in charge of answering the calls, repeating endlessly what Jane had written on the press release. Since this person knew nothing about what had happened, she couldn't tell anything else.

Journalists then turned their attention to the website administrator, who was soon flooded by interview requests from the American, but also from the British press. He didn't know how to deal with the situation, so he simply deleted their e-mails without answering.

Meanwhile, the fragment of text was being dissected on two other forums. The usual rubbish you can expect from the web, plus speculations that this could be part of Winona's next movie. Another fragment was unearthed, and the chatter went on.

It was when Edward Prince managed to reach Leslie that the latter knew the story had reached a tipping point, and that simply denying it will not be enough. Besides, Ed had first-hand information from Winona herself, so Leslie finally did admit part of the truth.

- Yes, someone at our office found this text. Miss Ryder got it, and she decided, just for fun, to re-write her part. But this is not a script. It's just a text posted on the Internet by an anonymous French person I don't know.

- Miss Ryder said to me that you were the one who sent her the text, tho.

- It could have been part of the automated news feed I send her. We have constant e-mail contacts, especially when she's on a movie road trip.

- OK, thank you, Leslie.

- Any time, Ed.

Leslie picked the phone back as soon as she hung up, and called Jane :

- OK, switch to Defcon 2 : the New York Time is on it.

- Ouch. Who was it ?

- Prince, Leslie answered.

- Could have been worse. Still, I recommend we continue regardless.

- We can't. Ed knows. He talked to Winona three days ago, and she told her she did receive the scenario, and annotated it. I had to tell Prince part of the story. I talked to Winona earlier, she remembers her interview with Prince, but can't recall exactly what she said : it was one among the fifteen she had that day.

- Crap. Do we have something for Prince ? Do we have a mean to prevent him from publishing ? If it appears in the New York Times, it's national news, and from there it could go anywhere.

- Not that I'm aware of. And I can't call anybody at the Times. Nobody important enough to have an influence on Prince and who would owe me a favor. At the Post, yes, but not at the Times.

- OK. We change the story, talk about an IT glitch : an e-mail was forwarded to Winona by error. She answered it without knowing what it was, thinking of some material she had to comment upon. We lead an internal inquiry, found the problem.

- This doesn't solve anything regarding the missing post on the website. And two computer glitches at the same time is called a blatant lie, Jane.

Jane sighed.

- What does Andrew think of all that ?

- He's not involved. I doubt he even knows the Post published the story.

- Why ?

- He's not PR, Jane. He has good ideas, but he's not on the account, and this is serious business.

- Ask him nonetheless ? Like you said, he has good ideas.

Leslie paused a few seconds to think a bit.

- Well... why not, after all ?

One hour later, Andrew was in her office, with a grim look on his face.

- I checked : it's gaining momentum according to Google Trends. The story is slowly popping left and right, and soon it will reach the bottom of the answers regarding her last movie. I don't know if it will go any further, but it may.

- Any suggestions about what we could do to stop it ? Or at least slow it ?

Andrew shrugged :

- I'm not a PR guy, I can just tell you what can be done and what shan't be done on the web.

- All this started on the web, I remind you.

Andrew pointed a finger to her face :

- Don't you try to put the blame on me ! It was our idea, remember ?

Leslie raised her hands :

- Easy, Andy. I'm not saying that. What I'm saying is that it started on the web, and we need to find a way to stop it.

- There is no way to stop it. It's on Twitter, it's on Facebook. You don't catch a falling knife. Remember Walmart, remember... other companies that tried to press the "damage control" button in the past. They all failed.

- So, what can we do ?

- Let me think. Hmm... What about telling the whole story ? We say this guy is a maniac, so we acted accordingly to our policies to prevent any damage to the image of Winona, and even protect her against a possible physical assault. That could work.

- It... could work, yes. Let's do that. I'll ask Jane for another press release.

When the press release came out, it was soon posted on various forums and blogs. And as expected, the web was covered with manifestation of sympathy towards Winona and disgusted comments about those maniacs that harassed celebrities.

Leslie, Jane and Andrew felt relief : problem solved.

[Antoine]

I was, obviously, unaware of the latest episodes, having decided to forget about the incident and stay far, far away from the show business from now on. Yet a colleague of mine bought my attention back to the fuss made by what he called the "Winona Ryder Amendment incident".

A few clicks later, I was appalled by what I read on various forums. I got Full Bloom's version of the facts. Only slightly different from what had occurred. And the conclusion was just plain wrong. I considered my options. Let go ? Or counter-attack ?

I was furious, tho I wasn't unaccustomed to the way the web distorted news beyond recognition, and the fact that when some false information were posted online, it was virtually impossible to re-establish the truth. The only way to stop a rumor what to launch another one, preferably by the same mean used in the first place. The fact that it all started with an article of the New York Post was an advantage for me : I could talk to a distant colleague, as equals. The question, now, was : did I wanted to go public about my version of the story ? And most importantly, how would Winona react to this ? This I couldn't know.

I woke up in the middle of the next night, and looked for Judie's e-mail. I started typing right away, my mind made up. What convinced me to fight back was the high level of flak I had taken online, being called a vicious pervert -to say the least- by everyone and their goldfish. And of course, Winona must now be convinced that I was just a filthy madman.

Hi,

I'm the person who wrote the text about Winona Ryder. Things didn't happen the way Full Bloom said they occurred. I could explain you what happened exactly. I have e-mails I could send you, for example, dating up to my first conversation with Leslie Schubert, Winona's agent, and down to the last mail they sent me. 

Her answer was predictable :

Hi,

Various person wrote me pretending they were the author of this text. Can you prove it ? Do you have the original text, for example ?

I replied :

No, I'm sorry, I deleted it after Full Bloom threatened to sue me (for various reasons I didn't even try to understand). But I can provide a summary of what I wrote, and prove by various ways that I'm really the author. The fact that I owe an old black Polo with a broken wiper, or that I know the spot I posted on the photos I added to my post : I've been there, I know how the landscape looks like. Skype logs when I called Full Bloom (tho I don't know if these can't be spoofed). The registration e-mail from the WFZR forum, received the same day the first message was posted, etc.

I'm a journalist myself, and I don't really like the way Full Bloom called for my public lynching about a text that, however twisted, cannot be called the work of a pervert.

If you're OK with that, I shall switch to my personal e-mail account and send you all you need. I'm OK for an interview if you want, provide my real identity remains secret. I don't want to end up like John Lennon.

Partially convinced, but at least reassured that she was not talking to yet another pathological liar, she answered :

OK, I believe you. Send me what you have, and we can talk later. And in case of an interview, I won't mention your name.

I switched to my personal e-mail account, and sent her various screenshots and pictures. We arranged for an interview for the next day.

- Hi !

- Hi.

- So... you're a journalist yourself ?

- Yes. I work for a video game magazine in France. First time I'm interviewed by a journalist myself ! Yayyy !

She chuckled.

- Sooo... Full Bloom... Tell me what happened.

[Antoine]

When the article came out the next day in the New York Post, it was published on the front page.

- A journalist ? A f**king journalist ! He's a f**king journalist ! How on earth ? yelled Leslie.

She was walking up and down her office, a copy of the newspaper clamped in her hands. Jane stared at her, speechless.

Then her office door opened, and John Ward, CEO of Full Bloom stepped in. Leslie froze.

- Oh, oh, thought Jane.

- In my office. Now ! snapped John.

When she stepped in he boss' office, she noticed Richie Sutherland, head of the legal department, and two other people she didn't recognize. Andrew has also there, standing, staring at his shoes. John sat on his chair.

- I want to know everything. Every details. Explain me how we got into this sh*t.

Slowly, trying to pick up their words wisely, Leslie and Andrew told him the events of the last four weeks. John was facing the wall, hands joined. When he finished, he rotated the chair, and asked :

- Do you both have any idea of what happens next ? Our reputation goes down the drain. We lose Winona. And others. Might as well close the office right now. Unless we find a way to sort out this mess, so that we can at least live long enough to file for Chapter 7.

He then turned to Richie, and asked :

- Any thoughts ?

- Nothing I can think of right now. I could have a close look at that article, see if there are any flaws in it.

- He... he lied to me ! interrupted Leslie. He said to me when I had him on the phone that... when I asked him what his profession was, he didn't tell me he was a journalist.

Richie looked at her in a kind of sad way and said slowly, as if he was explaining something to a child :

- No Leslie. I heard the recording. He said, I quote, that he was "writing stuff". He didn't lie to you.

Looking at the other two guys Leslie didn't knew, and ignoring Leslie's interruption, John asked again :

- Any thoughts ?

- This is too big, answered one of them. You won't get out of it using another denial or some legal trick.

- I agree, said the other. You need to find a way to completely flip the situation over. Make you look like the good guys again. Not just deny.

- Make us look good again ? And how exactly are we going to do that ? asked John.

They both looked at each other, and the one who looked older than the other sighed :

- Look, John. I know it might sound crazy, but it has worked in the past for other companies. It's called "bury the hatchet". Let this Frenchman come here. Let him discuss the scenario. Treat him like a VIP, bow to every one of his demands as long as they are reasonable. Appease him. Let him even see Miss Ryder, if that's what he wants. Give him a great greeting, and above all let the press know about it. Then the press flips its opinion towards you, he flies back to France two days after, you do whatever you want with the scenario from there -nobody gives a damn- and you save the day. And your company in the process.

- Bury the hatchet ? repeated John thoughtfully.

- Did you say that in his last e-mail, he wrote about cultural differences ? asked the older guy to Andrew.

- Yes, yes. It's even in the Post article, in fact.

- There you go. He himself gave us the excuse we need. A cultural misunderstanding. Between a French guy that knows nothing about the movie business and an American actor agency. Perfect.

John turned his chair to face the window. He remained silent for a while, and then turned his chair back to face his visitors :

- OK. We will do that. I trust your expertise, I know you've been through far worse than that.

He then pointed a finger towards Leslie and Andrew :

- Get in touch with this Frenchie. Now ! Explain him that this was just a gross misunderstanding, and that we would be very grateful if he could accept our invitation here, in Los Angeles, to discuss this... scenario or whatever. And I want you to be as cheesy as if it was Obama himself visiting us. Got it ? 

Leslie and Andrew nodded.

- Don't screw it, else you two will end up scrubbing dirt off waste containers for the rest of your life. Take these two gentlemen to your office, Leslie, and have something up and running in no time, John added. Richie, stay here, please.

The four of them left John's office, and Leslie lead the way to hers.

- Right, said the older guy when the door was closed, this is exactly what you are going to do...

[Antoine]

After they left the office, half an hour later, Leslie was staring blankly at the notes she had feverishly taken. Without even raising her head, she asked :

- Andy ? What went wrong ? I'm completely confused.

Andrew sighed, shaking his head.

- Murphy's law ? Sensitivity to initial conditions ?

- What ?

- The Butterfly effect. I... don't think we did wrong. It was just the accumulation of bad luck and coincidences. You did nothing wrong. Me neither. Or... well... I think so.

- I guess we should both be thankful we're not walking down the corridor with our stuff in cardboard boxes right now.

- Yeah...

- Let's move on, concluded Leslie, leaning towards her laptop.

Andrew left her office.


The content of the e-mail I got from Full Bloom puzzled me. It was signed by the CEO himself.

- Oh, oh... Tech 2 Damage Control.

Los Angeles... Right in the middle of the dragon's lair. Surrounded by sharks with freakin' lasers. Who could I ask for an advice. Judie, perhaps ?

I replied to John Ward that I needed a few hours to review his proposition, and wrote another one to Judie, asking her what she thought of it.

Her answer was clear :

Go to Los Angeles (if that's what you want). As soon as possible. Use this opportunity quickly. They are groggy right now, and will do anything to get the press off their back.

Can I write something about their offering ?

I replied :

OK, I'll go. Don't write it now, please : keep it for a while. I will tell you how it turns out, promise.

My next e-mail was for John Ward, explaining him that I accepted his offering, but that I wished to pay for the ticket myself (there was no way at this point I would give him my full name, address and other private data -but this I didn't write, of course), and that I would mail him again as soon as I had my date of arrival.

Since I was working as a freelance for my magazine, I could manage to take a break on short notice. I estimated the time it would take me to finish what was left to do, added a day, and booked a ticket after ringing my Chief editor to inform him that I was taking a two weeks break.

When John received my answer, he frowned :

- Pretty stubborned fellow.

He punched a speed-dial on his phone :

- Leslie ? He's coming. But he insists on paying for his plane ticket. Never mind. How's the rest going ?

- We got in touch with a journalist from The Insider who will leak that he is coming to visit us.

- Perfect. There is still one thing to sort out : make sure that our visitor accepts to stick to our version of the story : that his post wasn't censored, but that we requested its deletion because we wanted to do a movie based on it, and we couldn't let it hang out on the web.

Leslie hesitated :

- But...

- Yes ?

- I wonder...

- Speak up, Leslie, dammit !

- This doesn't fit in the whole picture. Andy wrote him this e-mail the Post quoted. And now we say that it was just a misunderstanding ? It doesn't make sense.

John sighed :

- I know, but it's the best we have come up with. We cannot say that we backpedaled because of the press. It must be presented as a misunderstanding, and that we were about to contact again this Frenchie to make him another proposal. But then the Post published its second article, and everything went through the roof.

- Hmm, replied Leslie.

- Make sure every thing is ready. Remember : whatever he asks, do it.