It’s not just my stellar business (and academic) career that I’m admired for – a recent facet has been my successful foray into publishing and the film industry. Stoney Goose Ridge only forms a very, very  minor part of this story.

When invited to the 20^th reunion of my executive MBA at Harvard, I tasked one of my PAs to search my archives for sketches and impressions of my classmates. These were located along with “I also found material from your creative writing class”. With my usual enthusiasm, diligence and creativity I had written a long submission when asked for a short story. Unsurprisingly, I had won yet another prize but had forgotten the details. The examiner’s comments were “Outstanding. The best student work I have ever seen. With a short polish, this is easily publishable as a novel, with potential for a movie. A stylish thriller with vivid locales, memorable and witty characters driven by a cracking plot. Beautifully crafted”.

I had been busy with my MBA, my work as a partner at a consulting firm, plus had recently just become engaged to Domenika. And I neglected my book. Nearly twenty years on, I spent a few days making thousands of edits; tightening, and resequencing chapters, removing refences to superseded technology, and outdated idioms, fixing acronyms of organisations that had undergone name changes, and adding some small characters. My original novel had anticipated the “outback noir” gritty hard-boiled crime thriller revival so I had the choice of retaining the local colour or internationalizing the key plot trajectory. True to form, I had it both ways, ending with two books dissimilar in tone, characters, locale, plot basics, twists, and style. No AI, as spreadsheets and databases are wonderful!

My Harvard lecturer had become a formidable popular writer. When I got in touch, she remembered both myself and my work, and recommended an Australian literary agent. The same agent was suggested by my Speakers’ Bureau. A short conversation, a few tweaks to the standard contract, and I was represented.

Two days later, my agent was gushing with enthusiasm at my novels’ potential. The agent had forwarded my synopsis and first chapter to the usual suspects and queried if I had a sequel planned. (thanks to my writing framework, this was well in hand). Publishers rapidly returned with bids, undeterred by my insistence on a nom de plume, or my warning that their standard contracts would not be accepted. Australian, UK, USA publishers, Europe (France, Spain and Sweden seemed particularly keen), narrators of the audio book, film rights translators, page to screen agents, digital rights, graphic adaptations, and many more formed parts of my positioning. All I had to do was create a pseudonym.

Some words of my novels were altered to be more familiar to their national audience (sample American extract below).

“I took my sidearm from the crawlspace at my crib, then went to the parking garage. I got the bankroll from the trunk of my automobile and gunned the Chevvy downtown. The jai alai arena was kitty-corner to City Hall. Whittaker was waiting in the bar, with snacks surrounding his cocktail.

“There ain’t enough mayo and ketchup to match the brewskis, but it goes OK with soda-pop. I’ll get the busboy to run to the drugstore for some candy and cookies.”

“Where’s our informant?” I asked.

“He’s in the can, in back of you,” said Whittaker. “I’m copacetic.”

The barkeep had been sampling his merchandise and looked as sharp as a potato. Outside, the mean streets were as dark as the inside of my Stetson.”

The publishing world is full of piranhas. Standard contracts fillet the author through a thousand cuts – but my negotiating prowess embedded some interesting clauses: painless – at first glance – to prospective publishers, but with clever side-effects.  The size, timing, and currency of my six-figure advances were cunningly specified.

And Hollywood (Universal, Disney, Paramount and more) was interested. It’s a curious business where only unicorn films ever make a profit, thanks to imaginative accounting. It’s model of how to distribute money with little to show for the result. Publishing is predatory, but Hollywood is the apex predator, apart from crypto!

But studios became more interested when my novels quickly became runaway best-sellers in various countries. The novels even attracted favourable reviews from high-brow literary snobs, who habitually ignore or deride “airport” books. My literary pseudonym was never linked to Hector Lannible, and I was not required to resort to plausible deniability. My interest in the screen adaptation was reported as a dilettante’s obsessive over-reach.

Thus, I took my virgin sabbatical from Stoney Goose Ridge to battle Hollywood. First came layers of minders, personal assistants and secretaries (usually family members or ephemeral romantic attachments) whose task was to prevent anyone reaching the rare creatures with decision-making powers. But my deep personal links to A-list stars, producers, directors, etc through the Stoney Goose Ridge range of DRC wines made all the difference. Access achieved! This gave the green light to explore details.

The next level of minions presented different issues, apart from their minuscule attention spans. There was a whole new set of industry jargon to navigate, spoken either rapid-fire or at a glacial pace by people currently affected by recreational pharmaceuticals or in search of their next high. Their dialogue also rambled through non-sequiturs, detours into bizarre personal paranoia, self-aggrandizement, and denigration of their underlings. Plus, endless gossip and obsessive commentary about the recent “wildfires.”   Nevertheless, I corralled enough of these folk to draw conclusions.

With film production, conflicts of interest are assured but never mentioned. All props, equipment, office space, locations, lighting, cameras, sound recording and so on are leased (at inflated rates, through related organisations), when cheaper to buy outright, with assured proceeds from their later sale. Then came an armada of varmints attempting to take a percentage (points) for arbitrage, facilitation payments, introductory consultancy fees, success fees, ambassadorial allowances, contingency fees, finders fees, wrap bonuses, underwriting fees, territorial subsidies, relocation assistance support, facility hire, brokerage, commissions, refreshers and so on. Packages included assorted production companies obsessed about the size and placement of their logos. Special effects, dialog coaches, and music rights entities seemed to be on speed-dial, even when superfluous. One historic example of extravagant waste was how a dog was hired at $1000 per day, plus owner, plus trainer, plus vet, plus groomer, for four months  – for three seconds of screen time in the distant background. Similar infamous instances are legion.

The studio ”brains trust” alleged the film had a preliminary budget estimate of $60 million and wished to engage some local hack to draft a shooting script, followed by firmer budget estimates. They were gobsmacked when I distributed storyboards and detailed estimates for a $30m film, all from credible people within the industry. I made a hefty profit for on-selling these well- prepared artefacts.

And Hollywood has sufficient artistic talent to draw imitations of stick figures (not to scale). The director initially proposed was noted for his work on music videos and a few undistinguished TV sitcom episodes. Intrusive product placement was expected. Packaged with other scripts, under development etc, residuals, nets.

This “creative industry” was not familiar with Hector Lannible. Let’s just say that matters went entirely in my favour as break fees would have derailed careers and sent companies into restructuring.

The studio offered finance at 19% interest. I stated that my sources presented 7%, and if needed I could underwrite the entire movie. That’s my way to make progress, and I how became an executive producer (EP in the trade vernacular). My near-veto rights over shooting script, actors and final cut- a result of the clauses that I had insinuated into the assorted contracts- made my input essential.

I held a lockup meeting that went through every budget line item, (no mobile phones permitted). No-one was allowed to leave until we were finished. It took 14 hours, with no debate after decisions, thanks to scrupulous records. Curiously, I was also offered a lucrative long-term trouble-shooting role by the studio, but I was not interested in the tedium, tantrums and terminal sycophancy of the fillum industry.

I had allowed one month for my pilgrimage to Trumptopia or Trumphades, but my whirlwind energy and negotiating prowess mean all was over in merely two weeks. My stay in the alternative reality of Hollywood is thankfully concluded, and I can return to the sensible beverage world of Stoney Goose Ridge. I can’t help but laugh at how perfect I am! C’est la vie.

Release of the movie is absolutely on target for late 2026, and the sequel novels will hit outlets around late 2025.