You can find advanced chapters on my patreon.
Patreon.com/simpysensei
___
Poppy Cogan, a senior acquisitions executive, leaned back on the cafe sofa.
She tapped a designer pen against her notepad, looking at Michael with a tight, practiced smile.
"Michael, let me be blunt," Poppy said, her voice dripping with corporate condescension. "You are asking for a licensing deal. That means you keep the IP, and we just 'rent' the rights to make the show. Netflix does not rent. We buy. You are a relatively new, amateur writer in the grand scheme of the industry. You simply do not have the leverage to ask for these types of deals."
Michael did not flinch. He maintained a perfectly sophisticated and stoic face, resting his hands neatly on the table.
Before Michael could speak, his manager, Evans, opened a thick leather binder.
Evans was not here to play nice. "Hehehe... this is going to be fun!!!" Evans thought with a stoic face.
"Mrs. Cogan, let's remove the word 'amateur' and look strictly at the analytics," Evans said, his voice crisp and professional. He slid a printed chart across the table. "Michael's first book did not just sell well. It completely disrupted the market. It sold four million copies in its first six months and maintained a ninety-two percent positive engagement rate across all major review platforms."
Poppy glanced at the paper but waved her hand. "A one-hit wonder is common in-"
"I am not finished," Evans interrupted politely but firmly. He slid a second sheet of paper forward. "His second book outperformed the first by three hundred percent in pre-orders alone. It held the number one spot on the global bestseller list for four consecutive weeks. And do you know how many weeks it had been released? Only four. The demographic reach is perfectly split between the 18-34 and 35-49 age brackets. That is exactly the four-quadrant subscriber retention demographic Netflix spends billions trying to capture."
Poppy's smile tightened. "Numbers are great, Evans. But our legal structure is rigid. When Netflix funds a project, Netflix owns the world it lives in. We do not build an audience for an IP we do not own."
"Then you will not build an audience with this book," Evans replied coldly. "We will not sell the rights. We will only license."
"Then we have no deal," Poppy said, crossing her arms.
She tried to look bored, waiting for them to cave. Writers always caved. They always wanted the Netflix logo on their work.
Michael finally spoke. His voice was quiet, calm, and completely in control.
"You think you are buying a single successful book," Michael said. "You think you are taking a risk on one season of television."
Poppy narrowed her eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"I have already written three parts of the story," Michael said, locking eyes with her. "It is a completed work with a prequel. No waiting for the author to finish. No gaps in production."
Poppy froze. The designer pen slipped from her fingers and hit the table with a quiet clack.
"Three books?" Poppy's mind started racing."Completed work? The data shows viewers abandon shows if the wait between seasons is over eighteen months. If he has three books finished, we could shoot back-to-back. God, the prequel alone would drive massive subscriber acquisition. But licensing... Legal would kill me. Netflix never licenses from individuals. But if Amazon or HBO gets a guaranteed three-part blockbuster while I let him walk... my career is over."
For the first time, the absolute certainty in Poppy's eyes flickered. She shifted, her corporate armor cracking just a fraction.
"Michael," Poppy started, her voice losing its edge, "even with a trilogy, a licensing deal is... it's incredibly difficult to get past the board. I would need to see the sequel and also coordinate the relase date of it with you. I would need—"
"Fine," Michael said.
He stood up. His face remained totally stoic. He didn't look angry. He just looked like he had better places to be.
"Evans, pack it up," Michael said calmly.
He didn't wait for Poppy to finish her sentence. Started walking towards the door in slow pace.
"Good luck, Evans," Michael thought while standing outside the cafe and lighting a cigarette.
In the cafe, Evans and Poppy were still sitting on the sofa; both of them didn't get up from their places.
"Listen to me, Mrs. Cogan. You are not the only one we have talked to. Looking at the eyes of the representative from BBC, they would most probably agree to this deal. You have connections; you can verify it in front of me if you want..." Evans started.
"Hmm..." Poppy thought for a second and took out her phone to call her acquaintance in BBC headquarters.
"Hello, it's Poppy. I wanted to inquire about the stance of the board on a series... yes... 'Guide to Murder'... uh-huh... okay, thanks." Poppy asked her friend who owed her some favors.
"So?" Evans asked.
"They have already decided to offer a contract," Poppy thought while looking at Evans, who was smirking smugly.
"We don't have that much time, Poppy. What will it be?" asked Evans, tapping his watch. "Though I have an idea which will be way more favorable to you."
"What?" asked Poppy, who was frowning a bit.
"How about joint venture with BBC? You know you guys can decide how much you guys will invest and then BBC will have a tv series for 35-49 age bracket and you will have a web series for 18-34 age bracket..." said Evans picking up his stuff from the table.
"Whatever you do, do it fast, Poppy. Michael is not that patient about these things," after saying that, Evans went off.
Poppy, who stared wide-eyed at Evans while he went off.