Writer's Guide
When Sadie Price first meets Ethan Wyatt, his anger and
vitriol shake her to the core.  Though in a perfect
position, she can't get a shot of him.  In the following
scene from the screen version of
Accidental It Girl,
Sadie does her best to remedy her earlier mistake and
get that killer shot of Ethan Wyatt being the bad boy he
professes not to be.

Well-dressed patrons nosh on portions the size of grapes, made of unidentifiable

At the top of the cavernous main dining room, off in the troposphere with the
crystal chandeliers, is a parapet and a long bank of velvet-draped nooks.  Here
the VIPs lounge in their rightful place, high above those who are merely rich,
not famous.


Tucked behind the drapes of one nook are Ethan Wyatt and Lori Dunn, un-famous
sister of Maya.  They lounge in a lavish curved booth.

Ethan is slightly uncomfortable.  Lori is slightly tipsy.

         Maya would crap her pants if she knew
         we were out together.

Ethan answers by way of shoving a piece of food in his mouth.

         So, what was it like working with Steven

         Amazing.  Even with the--

         Yeah.  What I really want to do is direct.

Ethan is stunned silent.  Oh, God -- she’s one of “them.”


A door to the kitchen stands ajar.

Brooke and Sadie huddle behind Luke.  He shakes hands with a WAITER; they’re old
friends.  Luke introduces Sadie.

Sadie shows the Waiter her camera, he shakes his head.  She shows him her cell
phone, again he shakes his head.  She shows him a wad of hundred dollar bills,
he takes them in a heartbeat.

The Waiter removes his jacket and hands it to Sadie.  Sadie hands her camera to

Sadie drags Brooke behind a nearby


Sadie unbuttons her pants.

         I need your pants.


         Come on, I need this.

         Are we talking about the picture or the


         Are you sure you want to do this?
         What do you mean, am I sure?  I’m taking
         my clothes off behind a dumpster.

         I’m serious, Sadie.  You’ve never done
         anything quite this... I mean, you’re the
         one with the rules.  No babies, no
         helicopters, no private property.

         This is different.  I need that shot.  
         I can’t let that guy think he beat me.  
         I’m ruthless, damnit.  Take no prisoners.
         It’s embarrassing.

         Says the girl standing in her underpants
         next to a pile of rotting vegetables.

         This is my life here, Brooke.

Brooke measures the desperation on Sadie’s face, and unbuttons her pants.


Ethan and Lori are into another course.

         Where did you grow up?

         Glendale.  So when you made Out of Harm,
         was Ashton still married to Demi?

         Is it just me, or did our waiter fall
         off the face of the earth?  I could use
         some more bread.

Ethan scoots over to the curtains and flags down a busty waitress.

         Check, please.


Sadie slithers behind the Waiter.  They creep around a corner, barely avoiding
detection by the kitchen staff.


Ethan’s napkin sits crumpled on top of his half-eaten meal.  Lori continues to
eat between yapping fits.

Ethan mimes stabbing himself with a fork.

Lori almost catches him, but he quickly steals a bite from Lori’s plate to cover
-- and a few more to help her along.


Sadie leans around a corner and peeks at the long VIP corridor.  The Waiter
yanks her back.

         Third one from the end.  Get what you
         need and then hightail it outta’ fucking
         Dodge.  Drop the jacket by that door over
         there, and go out that way.  Got it?

Sadie doesn’t have time to respond, the Waiter immediately hightails himself
outta’ Dodge.


Ethan lets out a big fake yawn.

         Still not over my jetlag, I guess.  Would
         you mind--?

         Oh, you wanna go?

         I need a good night’s sleep.

Lori shoves one last bite of food in her mouth.  Then, with a sly grin,
furtively pushes her breasts up, doubling her exposed cleavage.


Sadie creeps up to Ethan’s VIP nook.  She spies through a little opening in the
velvet curtains and sees Ethan and Lori.  

She spins, and pins herself against the wall.   

Sadie closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.  She pulls out her cell phone and
hits a few buttons.


Lori leans seductively over Ethan.

         Just need my purse.

Ethan tries to back away -- no chance.  Lori’s breasts are just all over the
damn place.


Sadie clamps her eyes shut.  She plunges her arm between the curtains.  

A soft CLICK.


The CLANG of cutlery on fine china.  

She got the picture.

Sadie runs like the wind.


Sadie tumbles out of a door, breathing heavily.

         Luke?  Brooke?

No answer.  

She walks toward the mouth of the alley -- a couple of hundred yards away.  

A sudden RATTLE and heavy FOOTSTEPS startles her.  

Sadie ups her pace, and fumbles with the buttons on the cell phone.

The FOOTSTEPS gain speed and urgency.

A hand grips Sadie’s shoulder.  It stops her cold.

Ethan Wyatt leaps out in front of her.

         Excuse me, I’m taking a little evening
         stroll.  Would you mind letting me pass?

Sadie tries to dart around him, but Ethan’s too quick.  He cuts her off no
matter what she tries.

         Give me the phone!

         No!  I’m going to call the police.

Sadie punches at the buttons on the phone, but she’s not calling anybody.  She’s
trying to email herself the photo.

         Be my guest!  That’s private property
         in there!  A goddamn VIP room for
         Christ’s sake!

Sadie sidesteps, pirouettes, and lunges, while she punches away at the phone.  
Ethan matches her every move.

         You know what your problem is?

         Besides being held hostage by a militant
         action star?
         You people think you can just do anything.  
         Because, even though it’s sick and pathetic,
         somebody’s going to buy that picture, and
         you’ll be the hero of the day.  And you’ll
         love it, no matter how many people you’ve
         hurt in the process.

         Aw, are you worried what your public might
         think?  That they won’t love you as much if
         they know you’ve been boffing some bimbo on
         the side?  Will their little hearts be
         broken when they know you’re cheating on
         your movie star girlfriend?  
         You’re just pissed you got caught.

         I’m pissed because you violated my privacy!

         Your first job was dropping trou for Calvin
         Klein ads.  You really want to lecture me
         about your privacy?

         Oh, you think you know me because you’ve
         seen me on billboards?  Because you’ve read
         all the shit on the internet?  Let me tell
         you something, sweetheart, you don’t know
         the first thing about me!

         And you think you know so much about me?  
         You call me a parasite, and then whine your
         way straight to the bank.  I pay your bills!

         For the record, I never wanted any of this
         bullshit.  And, bills or no bills, you’re a

         Uh, for the record, you’re full of shit.  
         And, I’m a photographer.

         You’re not a photographer.  Real
         photographers say something about the world.  
         You take pointless snapshots.  You’re a
         tourist with a license to distribute.

         I suppose the same is true for actors?  That
         they say something about the world?


         Huh.  Tell me then, what was the big
         statement you were making in
Motion of the
         Ocean?  What grand contribution did Execution
         Style make to humanity?

         I’ve made some very important films!

         Ten years ago, maybe.  And only until they
         stopped going to Sundance and started going
         straight to video.  Now, you’re nothing but
         a life-sized action figure, Wyatt.  You’re
         practically a wind-up doll.

Sadie stiffens her limbs, moves around like a robot.

         Give me the money and nobody gets hurt...
         No, I’ll run into the burning building...
         Let me do the space walk and save the aliens,

For lack of any verbal response, Ethan takes another good swipe at the phone.

         Give it!

Sadie deftly avoids losing the phone.  She frantically punches a few more

         What are you, ten?  Knock it off!

Ethan stops suddenly and plants his feet in the ground.

         I didn’t want to have to do this...

Ethan takes a classic martial arts stance, his hands fixed in that most
recognizable “karate chop” pose.

Sadie laughs, completely caught off guard.  

         You think because I saw you in
Kung Fu
         Commandos I believe you actually have a
         blackbelt?  ‘Cause I’m pretty sure you had
         a stunt double.  And, I’m willing to bet
         he was wearing a cup.

A hint of fear flickers over Ethan’s expression, then just as quickly
disappears.  He defiantly holds his stance.  

Sadie matches his pose and fires back with a classic “bring it on” gesture.

Ethan groans and raises his arms in reluctant defeat.


         The film was called
Hong Kong Nights!

Ethan rubs his temples, attempting to divine some way out of this.

         Do me this little favor?  Please?  Come
         on, give me the phone.

         I did you a favor last time, I didn’t get
         a single shot off.

Oops.  She didn’t mean to say that.


         You ran away, remember?  Like... a... a
         scared little... girl.

         That’s never stopped you guys before.

Sadie tries to think of some excuse, but nothing comes.

         Hey, I don’t have time to stand around
         here and chat, okay?  I’m going to go now.  
         With my phone.

         All right.

Sadie takes a few steps toward the sidewalk.

         Hey, wait.


Sadie turns around.  Ethan glides toward her.  

His countenance changes before her eyes.  He slips into    serenity, into an
absurdly dashing cool, with absolute ease.

He leans in close, his charm oozing all over her.  

Sadie is completely taken in by him, she complies with his silent wish and leans
in closer to him.

His breathing slows, and his voice slips out slow and seductive.

         What’s your name?


         Thank you, Sadie.
         For what?

         For the phone.

Ethan backs away.  Sadie looks down; her hands are empty.  

Ethan strolls triumphantly back to the door.

Sadie is stupefied.
At this point in the film, Sadie has become the subject of a publicity campaign that
she never signed on for.  The tabloids have run pictures of her claiming that she is
the secret new love of hot young Hollywood actor Duncan Stoke.  In this scene, Sadie
and her friends use all of their paparazzi skills to track down the illusive star and
confront him about the stories.  She ends up getting more than she bargained for--in
more ways than one.

Luke, Todd, Brooke and Sadie tumble out of Sadie’s car.  Todd struggles to
dislodge several pieces garbage that have adhered themselves to his thighs.

         What are you going to say to him?
         Well, obviously, this has to be about
         him, right?  It’s his reputation that’s
         being tarnished here, right?  He’s the
         big star.  I’m just collateral damage...
         or something.  He has to know who would
         want to do this.
                 (to Luke)

                      (to Sadie)
         If your guy is right we can expect him
         in about--

         Right now.  

The group follows Todd’s gaze to a group of several MEN getting out of a cab.

Sadie, Luke, Brooke, and Todd stumble over each other trying to quickly get in
the bar.


The group fans out.

The Lodge is an old-school neighborhood dive.  There’s sawdust on the floor,
antler light fixtures, and ancient, ruddy-faced REGULARS.

Luke and Todd try to look calm and order a couple of beers at the bar.  

Sadie and Brooke take a seat in a booth.  Brooke smooths her hair and touches up
her makeup.

         Duncan Stoke used to work here?

With the TINKLE of a little bell, three men parade in -- a movie star and his
entourage. The two HANGERS-ON flank a tall, dark, DUNCAN STOKE (late 20’s)
basking in his famous glow.  

Duncan was born to be a movie star.  He’s strong, slick, and shiny -- like he’s
been polished.

Duncan and his entourage receive a few back slaps and “how ya doin’s” from the
Regulars, then sit at the bar.

Sadie gets up, Daily News in hand.

                      (to Duncan)
         We need to talk.

Duncan’s boys snicker.

                      HANGER-ON #1
         Sorry, girly, he’s not signing autographs

         Oh, really?  Not even for his girlfriend?

Sadie slams the paper in front of Duncan.

The friends clam up, Duncan takes Sadie by the wrist and drags her to a back
room.  They disappear through a door.


Duncan stops, turns to Sadie.

         Who is doing this?

         How do I know it’s not you?

         ‘Cause if it were me I’d already have you
         bound in the trunk of my car.  I’m not a
         stalker, all right?  You have to think,
         who would want to make up rumors about
         you?  Any enemies?



Sadie tugs at her hair, rubs her eyes.


Pools of dim light mottle the dark sidewalk.

The CLATTER of Sadie and Duncan in heated conversation is discernible, but made
incoherent by distance and the dull pounding of FOOTSTEPS.

FEET clad in tattered Chuck Taylor All-Stars pound on the pavement.

At the corner of a brick wall, the Feet stop.


The brick wall marks one side of The Lodge’s back alley.

Sadie and Duncan stand fifty yards away, talking.

Sadie paces to and fro.  She drops her head in her hands.

Duncan approaches her.

The MYSTERY POV shifts -- he’s looking through a viewfinder.


Sadie is upset.  Duncan puts his hands on Sadie’s shoulders to calm her.
Without warning, three quick bursts of white light illuminate the alley -- the
camera flash.

Duncan, practiced in the art of paparazzi avoidance, pulls away and turns his

Sadie, completely new to this, turns toward it.

Several more flashes go off.

Sadie is livid.  She sprints for the Mystery Photographer.


shimmies and shakes as he races away on the sidewalk.

Shop fronts, busy pubs and restaurants whiz by.

Suddenly, a sharp disorienting jerk.  He tumbles backward and lands with a thud
on the ground.

Flowers topple over on top of him, the underside of a bodega awning is the only
thing in sight.

Until Sadie’s face, out of breath and bitterly angry, fills his view.


Sadie straddles the man’s mid-section.

The Photographer wears a dirty old Red Sox hat.  A scruffy beard covers most of
his face, his eyes are shaded by pale tinted aviator glasses.  Prada aviator

Sadie’s eyes screw up.  She rips the glasses from his face.  

She’d know those eyes anywhere.  

She tugs at the beard.  It’s a fake, and slips askew.

The man beneath Sadie is Ethan Wyatt.  And he’s not nearly as angry as a man who’
s just been tackled should be.  He gives Sadie a crooked smile.

         Man, you’re fast.

         You?  You’re the one who took those
         stupid pictures?

Though on his back and pinned down by a girl, Ethan carries on the conversation
with all the charm and aplomb of a man casually chatting at a bar.

         Wait a second, I think I’ve shown
         remarkable skill for a novice.

         I’ve read that you’re crazy, but you
         are actually lock ‘em up, loony bin,

         I prefer to think of myself as dedicated.

         Do you harass all the photographers who
         catch you cheating on your girlfriends?

         Unfortunately, no, I just thought if it.  
         You’re a test case.

Sadie pounds on Ethan’s chest.  Ethan laughs.

The BODEGA MANAGER steps out with a broom, he pokes it in their direction.

                    BODEGA MANAGER
         You go!  You can’t do this!

Sadie puts her hands up.

         Sorry, man.  

Ethan looks to Sadie, urging her with his eyes to get off.


         All right.

Ethan slips his hand between Sadie’s rear end and his waist.  He feels around
for his pocket.  His hand nears her crotch.

Sadie lets out a surprised little squeal and jumps off of him.

         What do you want from me, anyway?

Ethan stands.  He pulls several hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and hands
them to the Manager.  This assuages the Manager’s objections just fine.

         For you to know what it feels like.  
         You crossed the line, and now the
         line’s crossing you.

         Where did you get that, a movie poster?

         Too abstract?

Ethan brushes off the bits of flower all over him, removes his fake beard.

         Oh, my God!  You do realize that this
         is real life?  My real life.  You’re
         nothing more than a slimy, disgusting,

         Oh, really?  What’s the difference
         between me doing it to you, and you
         doing it to me?

         I’m not a celebrity, you whack job!

         Ah, but you’re dating one.

         Oh, your publicist is going to need an
         earth-mover to dig you out of this hole.  
         When I take this public you’re finished,

         You’re going to take it public?


         What do you think will happen, Sadie,
         when Celeb magazine hears you’re being
         stalked by a movie star?  How big do you
         think that story will be?

Oh, crap.  He’s right.

         Don’t you have a job or something?

She’s grasping at straws.

         I have a lot of free time.  Actors are
         like deep-sea fishermen, journeymen

         Serial killers guided by the zodiac.
         Oh, you know what?  Now I get it!  
         This has something to do with that messy
         transition from Scientology to Kaballah
         as the official religion of Hollywood,
         doesn’t it?  Are you having a moral crisis
         of some kind?  Is there someone I should
         call?  Madonna?  Travolta?  His holiness
         Tom Cruise?

         You are fascinating.

Sadie doesn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.  
Ethan smiles, inspects her like she’s something he just scraped out of a petri

Sadie is mesmerized.  Millions of women pay hard earned money to see that
smile.  They dream about it.

Sadie shakes herself back to reality.

         So you’re like a sociopath, right?

         No, but if I want something bad enough,
         I’ll get it.

         Oh, not a sociopath.  Just a typical
         freaking famous guy.
         So what did you do?  Charm yourself into
         the pants of every tabloid editor in the

         I would have, but it turned out to be
         completely unnecessary.  I made a few
         calls through some publicists I know.  
         Gave the editors some solid leads.  They
         trusted me, I fed them you.

         Well stop feeding!  You’ve had your fun.

Ethan holds up his camera.

         I just got confirmation of the story,
         sweetheart.  Not on your life.

It is her life.  

Sadie takes a swipe at the camera.  

Ethan backs away, does a jump and lunge routine similar to that he engaged in
just days before at ble.

Sadie stops suddenly, pouts her lips.

         What’s you’re name?

         Give me the camera.


In a flash, Ethan sprints away and out of view.

FOOTSTEPS pound behind Sadie.  Luke, Todd, and Brooke, all breathless, file in
behind her.

         Did you catch him?

2012 © Libby Street  Web Design By: Emily S. Morris
Libby Street, Happiness Sold Separately, Accidental It Girl, In One Year and Out the Other, The Luckiest People, paparazzi, celebrity, fame, New York Times Bestseller,
novel, novelist, chick lit, women's fiction, womens fiction, Sarah Bushweller, Sarah Castellano, Emily S. Morris, Emily Servedio, New York, New York City, Hollywood, book,
good book, great book, fun read, book club selection, boy meets girl, famous, fun book, screenplay, script, read an excerpt, Simon and Schuster, Pocket Books, writer's
guide, advice for writers, good blog, great blog, writing, novel, novelist, two writers, pseudonym, friendship, bestseller, bestselling book, books, cool website, cool
author's website
Accidental It Girl - Libby Street
Accidental It Girl - Libby Street