Confessions of a Hollywood Star Read Online Free PDF Page A

think you’ll get to put a good word in with the director?” asked my mother.
    I explained that I was practically guaranteed a part. Which was more or less true. They’d said they knew the movie needed extras.
    Karen Kapok did her impersonation of a refrigerator overworking. “Hmmm…”
    “Hmmm…?” I echoed. “Hmmm, what?”
    “I just don’t think you should get your hopes up,” said my mother. “There’s no guarantee you’ll get a part – even as an extra.”
    “Hope is the fuel of the ship of dreams,” I informed her. “Without hope you can’t even get out of the harbour. Besides, let’s not forget that I do have inside connections.”
    Pam looked to my mother “What’s that mean?”
    “It means Mary sold the costume designers a bowling shirt,” said my mother. My mother will not call me Lola, just because it isn’t the name she gave me when I was born and too young to have an opinion.
    “I should’ve known I wouldn’t get any encouragement from you.” I headed for the door. “I’m going to call Ella. At least she’ll be glad for me.”
    “What happened to you?” asked Ella. “You’re in a much better mood than you were last night.”
    I laughed. Last night was as far away from me by then as the Ring Nebula. “And how could I not be happy?” I demanded. “Don’t I live in this glorious jewel of the crown of the State of New Jersey?”
    “Are we talking about Dellwood ?”
    “Where else? Haven’t I ever told you how much I love dear old Dellwood with every fibre of my being?”
    “No,” said Ella, “you haven’t. You usually describe it as prison with its own shopping centre.”
    I disregarded the flat, sour tone in her voice. “Well I do love it. I love its quiet, tree-lined streets. I love its giant supermarkets. I love—”
    Ella interrupted my flow. “Lola, is that really you?”
    “Oh hahaha,” I said. “I know that, in the past, I have had one or two small criticisms to make of your home town, El, but now I’m ready to get down on my knees and thank the gods for bringing me here from the mean streets of Manhattan. Really. Just ask me how happy I am to be spending my summer here among the shopping centres and lawn sprinklers of Dellwood instead of some dreary, passé place like London or Paris or Rome. Just ask.”
    “How happy are you?” She asked this warily. Ella distrusts mood swings.
    I was practically dancing I was so excited. “I’m happier than a million-dollar lottery winner. I’m happier than the champions of the Super Bowl. I’m happier—”
    “Have you been drinking, Lola? Tell me the truth.”
    [Cue: heavy sighing and rolling of eyes at the calendar from the Chinese take-away on the wall. This month’s sage advice was: A wise man eats well and says little .] “That really beggars belief, El. I mean, you of all people asking me that. You know what I think of the tragic destruction of lives by alcohol.”
    “My mo—”
    “I wasn’t thinking about your mother.” Mrs Gerard has a problem with white wine (which is one of the reasons Ella distrusts mood swings). “I was thinking of actors like Anthony Hopkins and Dennis Quaid.”
    Ella said, “Oh.”
    A great actor has to be prepared for people who laugh at the wrong line or cough during Hamlet’s soliloquy, so I wasn’t discouraged by this detour in the conversation. My excitement was undiminished.
    “Now can I tell you my totally awesome news?”
    “OK,” said Ella. “What happened?”
    I told her about the costume designers coming into the store.
    “Their names are Shona and Leslie, and they’re working on this big Hollywood movie!”
    “Really?” Ella sounded skeptical. “And they were shopping in Second Best? Why would they do that?”
    “Authenticity. But that’s not the best part,” I assured her. “Wait till you hear. It stars Bret Fork and Lucy Rio. The movie’s about a girl remarkably like me who is dragged away from her home and friends and everything she loves to