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Returning to College left me with decisions to be made, such as what
I would wear. From my teenaged years until my emaciation, I had been
wearing an ACE bandage to strap down my breasts and keep them hidden.
After losing so much weight, along with muscle tissue, my breasts
had shriveled down as well and I had simply spent my few days in
public each week with my shoulders rolled forward to keep my tee
shirt from revealing too much. I had grown to like not strapping
myself down anymore at the start of each day. But now with my health
restored, my breasts had returned to a cup size larger than my
mother's and I once again needed to return to the hassle of cinching
myself up before going out in public. I chaffed in more ways than
one about this and decided I wanted a change.
Sports bras had since been developed and looking at them in a catalog
I realized they could be a quick to put on solution to replace
the ACE bandage. Ordering one two sizes too small, I received it in
the mail and sure enough, it was much handier. The problem was,
though, the shape of the shoulder straps were visible under a tee
shirt. This obviously wouldn't do as I'd only be hiding one thing
and in return make something else appear that would raise the same
questions. If only I had tee shirts of a thicker material, then the
straps might not show.
When Daina and I made our next weekend errand run around town, I told
her of the problem but she didn't think that such 'thick' tee shirts
existed. But still we looked and I finally spotted some women's long
sleeved sweat shirts at a department store. It occurred to me to buy
one and then cut and sew the sleeves to the shorter length. While
it would have seemed easier just to wear the shirt with the existing
long sleeves, since the age of sixteen I had been having these sudden
short fevers a couple times each day and my bare arms had been my
only way of radiating the heat. One of Daina's work friends had
given her an old portable sewing machine years earlier and, while
Daina didn't know how to use it, I had experience given my time in
'Home Ec' class from sixth grade. Sleeves shortened, sports bra on,
I slipped it over my head and sure enough it was thick enough to hide
the shoulder straps. The following week we returned to the
department store and I got a sweat shirt of each color to then take
home and modify for my needs. Daina didn't seem fully comfortable
with this, I assumed from the excess of buying one of every color.
I now had my college uniform and returned to the halls to
resume, and hopefully, complete my education.
Of my first set of classes, one of them was 'Public Speaking' and,
given my great experience with the equivalent class in High School, I
was looking forward to revisiting that success. And then there was
'Literature' which, as it turned out, featured many of the same short
stories I had read for High School as well. That was the hardest of
the classes for me to take as I was getting used to once again not
having uninterrupted free time in my life and rereading familiar
stories didn't seem like such a great use of that reduced time.
Still, it had been over a decade since I had last gone through the
texts and doubted I could request to test-out of the class and pass
the Final cold. Eventually the teacher asked me about my frustration
and I explained it, but neither of us could think of a solution other
than going through the class and getting it over with.
As I had imagined, 'Public Speaking' was my favorite as, again at the
podium, I'd forget to stutter and could impress my classmates with my
ability to speak clearly. Then the break between the classes came
and I was once again not able to talk about the weather because of
the renewed stammering. One week in July, our next speech would be
an 'extemporaneous speech' where we could not have notes with us,
though we could chose the topic ahead of time to get our thoughts in
order. I decided I'd do mine on the techniques I'd figured out
during my emaciated years to hide the effect of my condition when out
in public. But then the morning of the speech, something
happened.
I received a call from Hollywood. It was a representative of 'The
Other Show' and they had read my script and had really liked it.
They liked it so much that they wanted to use it to introduce a new
writer to the show and add them to their writing staff...
My head exploded with awe as not only had they liked my script and
wanted to use it, they also wanted me to join the writing
staff!!!!!!!!!!!
… And as they had already chosen who that new writer
would be before they read my script, they were wondering if he could
use its premise for his first teleplay.
It took me a moment to wrap my head around this concept. They
wanted a new writer for the show and they had chosen one who
apparently needed to use my idea as his introductory story as he
couldn't, what, come up with his own...? I
didn't ask this question, just thought about it silently.
''Are you still there?'' the representative asked me and I decided to
play for time saying that I'd have to call my agent about it and
ask her. ''You have an agent?'' came back the worried question.
Yes I did, I confirmed without adding that she had already
told me she wouldn't represent me on this script. He told me I
could, of course, talk to her first but that I'd need to get back to
them soon as they needed to move forward with the production of the
show. I agreed I'd call back by the next day at the latest and then
took his contact information.
The call over, I was shaking with mixed feelings and debated
what to do. I checked the clock and I still had a half hour before I
had to catch the bus to College and decided I might as well call my
agent and get her advice. Digging up her home number I gave it a
ring and this time her script writing husband answered. I asked to
talk to her but was told she wasn't available and was asked what it
was about. I told him and he was thrilled for me, but apologized as
she was away on a trip to Las Vegas for the week and they wouldn't be
in contact again until she returned. As that was well outside of the
time frame 'The Other Show' wanted an answer, we concluded I would
have to figure out whether to accept the offer on my own. I thanked
him and the call was over.
I had just enough time to grab my books and run for the bus. On the
ride toward the school I realized, with this excitement bubbling in
my head, I had to expel some of it by changing the topic of my
'extemporaneous speech'. Arriving to class, I awaited my turn and
then spoke about my news and my time writing with the show in mind
and now I had gotten my chance to sell something. I skipped the
detail of the sale being for another writer to use my work. And
then I was off to my next class which I pensively waited to end so I
could get back home and give Daina a call at the end of her work day.
Talking to Daina on the phone and telling her of the news, I realized
that the amount of money they were offering me, though very low
for a script sale, was still more than enough to pay for my
initial appointment with the medical doctor knowledgeable in
intersexed conditions. Based on that and the fact that my agent had
previously told me she wouldn't be representing me on this script, I
called back the Hollywood Rep before the end of the day and discussed
the deal. As I had already made up my mind to accept the offer, I
didn't see any point in having a sleepless night until calling him
the following morning. He was still in the office and I told him
I also wanted a name credit and, as I heard they were planning to
develop a spin-off series, I asked for the Writer's Guidelines on
that show as well as a copy of the pilot script as source material to
work from for submissions to that show. No, they wouldn't
give me a name credit as the goal was to allow their new writer to
have his name only on his first show, and while they would
agree to everything else concerning the spin-off series, they hadn't
yet determined if they would have an open submission policy for that
show as they had for the current show. I acknowledged that point and
the deal was set.
Daina picked me up for a celebratory dinner.
Just before midnight my agent called. On a fluke she had called her
husband to touch base and was thrilled about the news and was willing
to represent me after all. I told her that I had already agreed to a
deal but I'd be willing to have her represent me on my future
efforts. She was pissed and demanded to know why I had gone ahead
and made the deal without her. I pointed out the obvious, that I
had been told she would be out of contact until the following week
and that she had already told me she wouldn't represent me
on the script. Then I added, simply, that I needed
the money. ''Oh, you needed the money!'' she sarcastically echoed
back and then slammed the phone down, hanging it up.
I then got a series of additional wordless phone calls and
slamming hang-ups until one thirty in the morning...
A few weeks after the sale, the Hollywood representative called me
back and said they 'had a slight problem'. Their new writer was
having issues plotting out his take on my story and they were
wondering if he could work from an outline of my script, not just
with the premise. I said, ''Yes, in return for a name credit and a
complementary copy of the final script,'' and added that I could have
the outline printed-up mailed to them by the end of the day. He
agreed to the name credit and script but added that they had already
worked up the outline for him so I didn't need to mail one of my own.
The updated deal was agreed to and I quickly called Daina with the
news that my name would be on the show!
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