Eric gently placed the somewhat bulky second-hand typewriter on the desk and wiped the sweat from his forehead, feeling very nostalgic for the thin laptop he had in his previous life. It was the second day he had discovered his metamorphosis memory, and after a day of thinking, Eric had a preliminary plan for his future.

So he took a day off from Jeff and spent most of the day shopping to buy this second-hand typewriter. This is something that is essential for the realization of one's own plans.

After dealing with Ralph's funeral, Eric was left with only a few hundred dollars in cash. In Western countries with a good welfare system, people have never been in the habit of saving, and after being reborn, Eric is still glad that the mortgage on the house he lives in has been repaid, otherwise he may have to sleep on the street if the house is repossessed because he cannot pay the mortgage. In this way, the money for the typewriter was still a month's salary advanced by Eric to Jeff.

To realize your ideals, you must first break into the circle of Hollywood. Don't think about being a director directly for the time being, and being an actor is not a path suitable for him. After thinking about it, the most suitable thing for him is to be a screenwriter. Although people always say that the status of Hollywood screenwriters in this era is low, in fact, it is not, because the top gold medal screenwriters have changed careers to become directors and producers, which is no different from Hong Kong movies that are in full swing on the other side of the ocean.

Loading a piece of manuscript paper into the typewriter, Eric raised his hand and typed a line of letters on the keyboard: Jurassic Park. That's right, it was the most profitable film series of the nineties.

Eric still remembers his previous life, when he got a disc from a vendor selling pirated discs, watched it with a group of friends, and when a lifelike dinosaur appeared on the TV screen, the feeling can only be described in one sentence: My friends and I were stunned.

The memory is that it was published in 1990, and it is only more than 100,000 words, so Michael Clayton must not have started writing it now. Eric took it for himself with peace of mind, and if he didn't take it, he would be blamed for it. As for Michael Clayton, it is said that such a character with a fantastic life experience is not in Baiji Park or anything.

The corners of Eric's mouth curled slightly, and he tapped on the keyboard as he reminisced about the past. He's not writing a script, it's but. In his previous life, after watching the movie, because of curiosity, he came to Jurassic Park to read it seriously. Now, having the memory of a high school student who did well in school is more than enough to translate the Chinese version of his previous life into English.

The reason why the script was not written directly is that on the one hand, it is directly written and thrown into the film company, and the most likely thing is that it will be thrown into the garbage basket as waste paper, and the scripts received by Hollywood film companies every day can basically be calculated. On the other hand, Eric wants to keep the film copyright of this series firmly in his hands, because even if it is now written as a script, and it is taken by a discerning film company, and it is made into a movie, then in the end, the biggest benefits can only be those film companies, and Eric, in addition to tens of thousands of dollars in script remuneration, will receive an additional dividend at most. This kind of loss-making thing, Eric will definitely not do.

When it is published, Eric can firmly control the film and television copyright in his own hands, and wait for the right time to sell at the price, so as to maximize the benefits he can obtain.

The time spent immersed in work always flies, until it is completely dark, and Eric can already look down on the letters on the keyboard, only to realize that before he knows it, he has been writing for four or five hours straight, and his stomach is beginning to growl.

Standing up, Eric looked at the thick stack of manuscripts on his desk and stretched in satisfaction, at this rate, it would take about a week to complete the manuscript, after all, he still had to continue working in Jeff's cafeteria at this stage, or he would go hungry.

Walking into the kitchen, Eric made himself a simple dinner, rice with a scrambled egg with tomatoes, a typical Chinese home cooking, as for the remaining bread, cheese, peanut butter and the like in the refrigerator, Eric usually eats it as a snack these days, although he inherited the memory of the original guy, but the eating habits of Oriental people are still deeply ingrained in his bones.

After a simple dinner, Eric went to the balcony on the second floor, leaning against the railing and looking at the night view around him. The apartment he lives in is a small yard of less than 200 square meters, a two-story house, some unknown flowers and plants are planted randomly in the yard, there is no hostess, and the cheap father Ralph is also an informal person, so the life of father and son has always been rough. I remember when I was about seven or eight years old, father and son moved from Renton, England to Los Angeles. Eric didn't remember why Ralph did this, he was too young at the time, and based on the clues in his memory, Eric couldn't figure it out, so he didn't bother to think about it.

After moving to Los Angeles, Ralph dragged little Eric to visit Los Angeles for only two days, and then bought this small courtyard under the introduction of a real estate agent, which looked very messy. Eric smiled, and it was the cautious concept of home ownership in the Orientals again.

After staying on the balcony for a while, and was about to go back to the study to continue writing, when suddenly he heard a ping-pong sound, what seemed to be the sound of glassware falling on the ground, Eric set his eyes on the neighbor's house to the west, which was the home of the Runkels, a couple in their forties, the couple had three children, the eldest son was already in college, a daughter was in boarding school, and the youngest son was only seven years old.

The couple may have had a midlife crisis and often quarreled during this time. Although the relationship between the Eric family and the Runkel family is good, Eric does not plan to go up to persuade the fight, these two are very restrained people, and there is no record of big fights. If you rush to persuade the other party, you can only embarrass the other party.

After a quick and indistinct quarrel and the sound of several pieces of equipment shattering, the door of the Runkel house was pushed open with a bang. The hostess, Charleson Runkel, dressed in a shirt and with messy hair, rushed out of the room, ran two steps and turned his head to the woman in the door, and shouted, "Enough, I've had enough, damn it, you Bichi." If I hadn't moved to Los Angeles to marry you, I would have been a GM executive by now, look at what you're like now, oh my God!"

"Die," said Mrs. Runkel, who had always spoken softly, but her voice was now very high-pitched and sharp-pitched: "Of the three men who pursued me with you, one is now a California congressman, and the other is selling oil in the Middle East. Now, go sleep in your GM, dear 'GM executives'!"

With that, Mrs. Runkle threw out a black coat and slammed the door shut.

Charleson Runkle picked up his coat and patted it, then stood up and looked up just in time to see Eric standing on the balcony.

"Sorry to bother you, Eric. Charleson smiled wryly and said to Eric.

"It's okay, Charleson, do you want to...... Come sit at my house?" said Eric.

Charleson shook his head and said, "No thanks, I'm ...... I'm going to go to the bar. Wait...... When Mary comes back in a moment, it's time for her to deflat. ”

After Charlison finished speaking, he nodded at Eric and started his car and drove off into the distance.

When Eric returned to the room, he remembered the quarrel between the two of Runkel, and a thought suddenly flashed through his mind, and he sat down at his desk and loaded a piece of manuscript paper into the typewriter, and the thought became clear.

Eric has been thinking about what to write for his first script for the past two days, and now he has the answer. That script was simply tailor-made for him, well, because of the relatively far difference in age, a lot of details need to be revised, but these are not problems, and the selling point of the script is not in those details.