The Men Who Write Your Christmas Movies, Part Iv

“I knew then it was the last novel I’d write, couldn’t go elsewhere due to my contract. They wanted books like I’d written before, but there was no way I could ever go back. “Yet there was a loop-hole I could exploit, my contract said nothing about screenplays, when I came here management’s jaws all dropped, and I’ve been writing these films since that day. “You may not like it, and think these stories are just tripe, and that they’re bringing you down, but when I look back on all that I’ve wrote, these are the stories of which I’m most proud. “I help steel folks against the weight of the world, can you tell me if your book does the same? I know I’m using my powers for good, has that question even entered you brain?” These were the words Erskine said to me, I wish I could say I took it with grace, but I was young, and convinced I was right, so I just called him 'washed-up' to his face. I stormed out of there in a foul mood, so convinced that I would never return, my book came out, the elites ate it up, oh, the praise and the cache that it earned. For eight months I was living the good life, all the best parties, and people quite cool, until the day that I turned on the news and saw a nut-job had shot up a school. You might ask what this had to do with me? Well, when they searched the man’s bedroom they found a copy of my book, with highlights and notes... he’d been quoting it while shooting kids down. Of course this got out, there was an uproar, my publisher dropped me to save their skin, though I barely noticed that at the time since I was shattered, all torn up within. Even though I knew I wasn’t at fault, none can control what another will do, I understood all that Erskine had said, and more to the point, knew that it was true. I had added to the nihilism, I had cared only for making my name, had sought to undermine to make a mark, never thinking of the price of such fame. After that I went back to the company, I felt so lost, and threw myself to work. I thought Erskine would be gunning for me since I had acted like a total jerk. But when I walked in, he just shook my hand, said, “I’m sorry, man. I know where you’ve been.” He even went out of his way to ensure that I was assigned to his writing team. Since then he and I have become good friends, writing sweet films to push back the great fears, we’re the men who write your Christmas movies, and we’ve got three of them due out this year.