Charity Trickett Is Not So Glamorous
You will fall hard for this based-on-a-true-story, behind-the-scenes tale of a young woman’s calamitous adventures trying to break into the movie industry in 1990s Hollywood.
Hollywood, 1997. When Charity Trickett moves to LA to assist the director of the biggest blockbuster film of the year, she quickly realizes that Hollywood isn’t all red carpets and Rodeo Drive. But her determination to become a screenwriter and producer in this glamorous yet cutthroat industry cannot be stifled. Working harder than she ever has before, she impresses the top brass at Canopy Studios and inches herself closer to her dream. But her ambitions and tender heart are threatened by backstabbing coworkers, an evaporating bank account, love gone wrong, a mistake that could cost the studio hundreds of millions of dollars, and an FBI investigation that could land her in jail.
Surrounded by fame and money but unsure how to access either one, Charity’s grit and kindness steer her toward devoted friends and hopeful artists. If she can manage to stay out of trouble, maybe she can change bad to good.
Select Praise
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Christine Stringer’s debut novel follows a talented assistant navigating the glittery but cutthroat world of film. As Charity juggles demanding directors, diva actors and her own insecurities, she learns that the glamour of the industry often masks its gritty reality.
People Magazine -
Stringer portrays Hollywood's inner circle with aplomb... resulting in a book that balances humor with insight, frustration with hope, and reality with just a touch of Hollywood magic.
Booklife
Excerpt from Charity Trickett Is Not So Glamorous
Getting back into the nightclub’s VIP room on my own is challenging. Ladies have been circling the private area for hours in hopes of catching the eye of the biggest star in Hollywood. “Excuse me,” I say as I squeeze through the Lycra and perfume. Someone jabs me in the ribs, someone else steps on my foot, and I’m attacked by death stares from all sides. I manage to position myself within three rows of the VIP entrance, but now I’m stuck. The ladies in front of me are locked in their positions. I try to get the bouncers’ attention. I yell and wave my hands in the air, but I’m not the tallest or biggest person, and I’m not even sure the bouncers will remember me. So now I’m stuck in this desperate mob a little bit high, thirsty, and alone.
It had been so nice in the VIP room. We had lovely servers and there were seats covered in velvet. I’d love to sit on that velvet seat with my friends. But I’m out here with these ladies who hate me. I turn to the gal beside me and say, “If you knew me, I bet we’d be friends.” She rolls her eyes. I turn my attention back to the VIP . There’s Casper! “Casper!” I yell. “Casper. Hey!”
“Calm down, girl,” the eye-rolling lady tells me. “You’ll never get in acting like that.” She’s right. I’m not getting in. Nobody in the VIP room is paying attention to anyone outside the VIP room. The bouncers don’t know who I am. I’m deflated. I’m neglected. I’m all alone.
Then, out of nowhere, Blake Anthony stands at the VIP entrance. The women I’m clustered with shriek. Blake’s lips spread into his movie-star smile, and he waves to the crowd. The women get even louder. Some jump up and down. What is Blake doing? He’s going to start a stampede. Something pushes me hard from behind, and I’m thrown off-balance. I grab onto the eye-rolling lady, who looks at me in shock. “What the hell!” she yells. Instead of saving me, she tries to pull away, but I’m pulling her down with me.
I grab the woman on my other side, sure that she will rescue us. She cries out. It’s a domino effect, and a small group of us go down hard. Splayed on the floor, we are a pile of hair, boobs, and heels struggling to get back on our feet. The pandemonium around us dies down, and the ones left standing stare at us in shock. I get to my feet, look toward the VIP, and lock eyes with an angel. Blake Anthony.
It could be the X, but I feel as if my joy could float me over the heads of these ladies and plop me right next to my friend Blake, my heart is that full. He points me out to his security guy. The ape of a man asks the ladies to make way as he descends the three stairs from the VIP to get me. He arrives at a couple of ladies in miniskirts who are trying to get to their feet without flashing the club. He extends them each a hand and pulls them up gingerly. When he gets to me, he puts his hand behind my back and guides me toward the VIP.
I sheepishly look back to the other ladies. “Sorry, ” I say.
“Fuck you!” says the eye-rolling lady. With this, the women once again whip into a frenzy. This time, though, it’s a frenzy of anger toward me. The security guard hustles me up the stairs and into the arms of my pal Blake. I nestle into the safety of his large chest, and it’s so much cozier than where I came from.
“Hi,” I say, closing my eyes and taking in Blake’s musky smell.
“Hi,” he says with a chuckle. His voice resonates through my head, making a pleasant feeling in my cheeks.
“This is a nice hug, isn’t it,” I say.
“It is. Are you okay?” he asks.
I pull back from Blake and look him in the eye. “Now I see why you want to stay home all the time,” I say. “That was crazy!”
“Aw. Poor baby!”
“That was totally my fault, too,” I confess.
“The lady pileup?” Blake says, looking at me as if he’s impressed.
“I took them all down.”
From behind me, I hear, “Where have you been all night?” I turn, and it’s Casper.
“Dancing. Want a drink? I’m parched.” I grab a bottle of water from a silver ice bucket as Casper pulls me aside.
“I want to talk to you about something serious,” he says. What? No. No serious talk. Is this about work?
“Casper, I really can’t talk about work or serious things right now. I’ve had a shit few days. It’s so wonderful in here. Let’s not change that,” I tell him honestly.
“Why? What’s up?”
“Duke broke up with me. Total asshole. Was cheating. I found them. Whole nine yards.”
“Good,” Casper says.
“Good?”
“Yeah. Now you can move to LA and work for me without missing some lame boyfriend you left at home.”
I laugh. It’s comically selfish of him. It’s also the perfect thing to say.
“Hey,” he says. “I know everyone’s partying and stuff tonight, but I’m serious. I want you to move to LA and be my assistant.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Come finish the movie with me in LA. See it through post. I got things lined up after this, too. You should be my assistant. But you’ve got to be there in two weeks.”
“Okay, ” I say in disbelief. We give each other a little hug to seal the deal. I turn around, and Pup is holding a bottle of champagne.
“Congratulations, my babe!” She fills my glass, bubbles dripping to the floor. I sip, feeling the bubbles pop pleasantly in my mouth.
“Congratulations,” Saffron purrs into my ear. I turn around, and there she is, champagne in hand, a dull smile on her lips. “Thank you.” I lift my champagne to hers and we clink glasses. “Cheers,” she says. “You know, Charity, I’ve been working with Casper for seven years. He runs everything through me.” This doesn’t sound good. It sounds super serious. Did Saffron take a different drug than I did?
“Seven years,” I repeat.
“Yes. You know, there’s lots of personal stuff Casper has his assistants do,” Saffron says. “Casper knows I’m not moving to LA to pick up his dry cleaning. I’m not a personal assistant,” I say with as much lightness as possible. And given the circumstances, I think I sound pretty light.
“Right. I’m just saying that I’m there every day. I’ve seen a lot of assistants come and go, ” Saffron says. Oh, wow. This is a very uncomfortable conversation. I’ve seen a lot of assistants come and go. Who talks like that? Saffron’s eyes dart around the room as she sips from her glass. I sense that she’s not comfortable, either, but she’s intent on delivering her message. “But Casper really likes you, Charity. We have a good feeling about you.” I have to get out of this conversation.
“I have to pee,” I say clumsily.
As I cruise through the VIP with no intention of actually going to the bathroom, I decide to ignore my entire conversation with Saffron and focus on the positive. I’m moving to LA to assist the director of Canopy Studios’ biggest film of the year. This could take me places. Serious places. I am going to live in LA, where I will have the chance to give my scripts to the biggest decision-makers in the film industry, the ones who choose the scripts and put together the teams that win Oscars. I am going to be a famous screenwriter. Duke couldn’t have made me single at a better time.
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Upcoming Books in the series
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Charity Trickett: The Fame Game
The spotlight can sometimes feel like a microscope, especially in late 1990’s, when the paparazzi were paid big bucks for a salacious photograph. So, when the star of Charity’s latest movie finds herself at the centre of a tabloid scandal, Charity and her friends are thrown into damage control.
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Charity Trickett: Having It All
Fame? Check. Money? Check. Love? Check. Why not add one more, little thing to Charity’s checklist? It’s so little in fact, that she can carry it around for nine months using no hands. It can’t be that hard to be a working mom in Hollywood... Or is it?