Jack Ellison (MC's POV)
If it were any other occasion, I would have been found wolfing down the mouth-watering lunch my Mum had whipped up for me– any other occasion, to be honest.
But this time, my focus and attention were completely occupied by the article in front of my eyes.
Books of the Times: An 11-Year-Old Novelist With a Comic Imagination
By Christopher Lehmann-Haupt
March 27, 1985
At an age when most children are still wrestling with long division and locker combinations, Jack Ellison is fielding questions about royalty percentages and television rights. The Los Angeles sixth grader has, in the past five months, produced two bestselling novels – Zootopia (Sun & Moon, November 1984; Simon & Schuster reprint, March 1985) and Inside Out (Simon & Schuster, March 1985) – both of which have landed on the New York Times and Los Angeles Times bestseller lists.
Zootopia, a sprawling 300-page allegory of prejudice and friendship, written in deceptively simple prose, has already invited comparisons to William Golding's Lord of the Flies. Inside Out, his follow-up, takes a more psychological bent, imagining the unseen battles of emotion within a boy not unlike himself. The books, critics note, are surprisingly mature, though Ellison insists that he "just wrote what I saw around me.
If this were not precocious enough, Ellison is preparing to enter another medium: the comic book. Simon & Schuster has confirmed it will release a graphic novel version of Zootopia in the summer, with Ellison himself sketching the first drafts before handing them over to professional illustrators for coloring. "It's not watered down," he assures. "It's the same story, just with panels and pictures, and for a younger audience. I like when stories can move fast, like movies."
There is, inevitably, skepticism. Can an 11-year-old sustain the pressures of publishing, interviews, and schoolwork? But watching Ellison at a recent book signing in Westwood – pen in hand, politely shaking the hands of readers triple his age – one has the sense of a child remarkably at ease with both imagination and attention.
Whether his prodigious output will endure remains to be seen. For now, the industry has placed a sizable bet: two bestsellers, one reprint contract in the hundreds of thousands, and a comic-book adaptation on the horizon. Ellison shrugs off the numbers with a grin. "I still have to finish my math homework," he says.
Well-well-well… In the eternal words of one, Captain Raymond Holt, 'HOT DAMN!'
My dad peeked from the corner of my eye, eyebrow raised. "And I thought I was laying the gravy on thick." He muttered before getting back to his meal.
Mom chuckled beside him, "Well, what did you expect? He's the youngest bestselling author by a decade, it's gotta be a world record or something, right?!"
"It is actually. Vince was contacted by the Guinness World Records yesterday. They want to do a segment on me by mid-April." I chimed in, "I'm inclined to agree."
"Congratulations." She muttered without excitement. Honestly, I didn't blame her. The word had been uttered around this household nearly every other day to the point where it had lost all meaning.
I replied with a non-committal hum, setting aside the newspaper as I got back to my yummy meal.
I would have checked it this morning if I hadn't been busy getting ready for a book reading in a high school someplace in Anaheim, which went pretty well, all in all.
Decent crowd, went quiet when it was needed, reacted at all the right lines, and asked some of the better questions in the Q&A.
Way better than the stuck-up assholes over at Brentwood, where I remember one of the questions being, 'Why didn't you put Dinosaurs in Zootopia? They're animals too!'
The temptation to run up to him and smack the ever living shit out of his stupid face was getting harder and harder to resist till the very end.
Nevertheless, I persevered in the end.
Though some of the questions did get me thinking, particularly the ones about what I'll put out next.
You see, I had quite a few options tumbling around in my head, but I couldn't just pick one randomly and write it out on a whim. I can call it plagiarism all I want, but really, the only common factor between my novels and the movies was the general plot-line, with nearly everything else different.
The world background had to be tweaked to match the 80s, the dialogues had to be different, since what worked visually wouldn't always work literarily, descriptions had to be completely original, since I had to capture in words what the movies managed to portray in fucking 3D. Not to mention, ensuring barely any of the stupid, physical jokes never made it in, and were replaced by something even remotely clever, since I was aiming for an entirely different demographic.
Essentially, it was the equivalent of watching an elaborately detailed dream, remembering it, and then proceeding to pen it down from scratch.
'Now what idea would sell right now, and its knowledge would be relatively easy to pass off for a 12-year-old?'
A never-ending dilemma, with no perfect answer… but several imperfect ones that could be moulded to become something resonant.
TRING – TRING!!!
"Mind getting that, Jacky? It's probably for you anyway."
Sigh. "Sure, Dad."
I reluctantly left my plate alone and made my way to the phone, bringing it to my ear with a drawl. "Hellooo?"
"Yes, Jack? Is that you?"
"Vince? Yeah, Hi! Lay it on me."
"Well, I got a call from a talk show regarding an appearance on your part and– you're not gonna believe this Jack, hell I barely believed it myself when I got the call!"
"Well, don't keep me in suspense Vince, who is it?!" I nearly yell out as my right fist clenches in anticipation.
And suffice it to say… I was not the least bit disappointed.
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??? (Host's POV)
"All right, give it to me straight– he nervous?" I asked Fred, my longtime producer.
He shook his head, all the while signaling the cue card guy to get ready, "Oh, not a bit, at least not as much as we expected him to be– boy's pretty confident all in all."
"You sure? No jitters? First time in front of my audience, and a camera that'll show him to millions and you're telling me he's fine?" Seeing him nod, I quickly move on, "Ok, 7 minutes right? Locked and loaded to go– hey quick, check in with makeup will ya?"
"Got it, listen now John, we'll get the funny tour story out, but honest to God– balls of steel on that one, he specifically asked for a few hardball probes, agent signed off on it. You good with that?"
I paused for a second at that, in disbelief sure, but a hint of admiration mingled in somewhere. "Well I'm still going to keep it light and breezy, he's a kid after all– they never know what they want until the barrel's staring them down so.. Eh."
"Your call, mate." He chuckled for a second. "The cue cards are prepped, his glow's a go, and we'll be live in five. Now I'll get my ass backstage for the next guest, just remember. Shirley handpicked him out of 20. This boy's got something America wants, yeah? You do your thing, and ratings will spike as always."
And with a quick shake, I head over to the chair and glance at my blue card one last time.
Jack Ellison (MC's POV)
"Ok Jack, this is it. The biggest interview of your life, you've got this in the bag, you hear me? You got this!" Vince murmurs in my ear as I adjust the wire on my lapel, trying to convince himself more than me at this point.
Love the guy, but I can admit he got spooked once we entered the studio.
Can't even blame him, considering where we are and who I am about to be talking with once the minute is up.
"Vince…" I stare at him, dead in his eyes, "I got this. I am ready man, been prepping for this my whole damn life– just leave me alone for a bit with my thoughts, yeah?"
He nods frantically, trying to wipe off beads of sweat flowing down his cheeks with his sleeve.
'Ok Jack, here we are. Deep breaths, we can do this.'
I clear my throat a final time as I hear the announcement go off, knowing my number's up soon.
And Ed MacMohan's iconic voice booms throughout, "That's right, Johnny. Our next guest is the author of two bestsellers – Zootopia and Inside Out – both on the New York Times list. He also has a Zootopia comic book on the way. Please welcome… Jack Ellison!"
The band kicks in with a lively theme riff as the curtain parts… revealing little old me in my kiddie suit, my hair slicked to the side, with unblemished, rosy cheeks, as I walk out onto the platform, waving steadily to the applauding audience, with innocent exuberance plastered on my face.
I shake hands with Johnny, nodding at Ed and the band, before settling onto the couch, calming my nerves as the applause dies down gradually.
Johnny grins away in his trademark style, "Jack Ellison, ladies and gentlemen. Now uh…" He lifts his brows a smidgen, "This doesn't happen very often, if ever– 2 books on the bestseller list at the same time! I mean, I get excited if I can finish reading the sports page on a Monday morning."
Laughter echoes, as I chuckle along, loosening up instantly. I guess now I know why he is the GOAT of late-night TV.
"Well Mr. Carson, I read the sports page too– just hide it inside Tolstoy so people think I'm working." I snap back in an instant with a well-placed smirk.
The audience cracked up harder, a sure-shot signal that I nailed the comedic timing as Johnny leans back, impressed.
He turns to the peanut gallery with a sly look, "Smart kid. Hides his vices in Russian literature." Before leaning towards the camera, "I like him already."
Cheers ring through, scattered here and there as he finally leans forward to kick things off.
And boy oh boy, am I ready for this.
"So tell us Jack, where did the idea for something like 'Zootopia' strike you? Talking animals in a sprawling metropolis– not something you see every day now is it?"
I exhale a chuckle before replying, "Absolutely Johnny, not run of the mill by any means. The idea though– well, part of it was that I wanted to tell my story in a way that felt fun and yet accessible. Something a teen could pick up, and adults would look a little deeper into. You see, it's easier to talk about something difficult when you wrap it up into a package that makes people laugh and imagine. The animals… they are a way in– but the message is about us."
The spectators murmured, partly in thought, partly in approval, while John continued grinning like there was no tomorrow. "I knew it! Had always suspected Bugs Bunny was making a political statement."
I chortled along, "Oh, absolutely. Every, 'What's up, Doc?' was really a demand for systemic reform."
This time, even the band joined in, as everyone burst into guffaws.
But the show needed to go on, and so the next query was quickly put out.
"And your other book, 'Inside Out'– very different tone, more introspective. Do you like switching gears between humor and serious themes?"
"Yes, actually, glad you went there–" "Thank me later with an autograph." "Hey, don't steal my lines! But yeah, I do like switching gears every now and then. I wanted to talk about what goes on in our heads when we feel broken, or confused, for that matter. Now, I am no doctor, not even close, but I pride myself on being a storyteller. So I tried approaching it in my own way; Asking simple questions, using playful language, cracking jokes– sometimes the only way to face something heavy, I feel… is to look at it sideways."
He raised his eyes dryly, "So your prescription would be– childish curiosity?"
I didn't hesitate in the least, "Exactly! Cheaper than therapy, and you don't need insurance– I'm glad you get it Mr. Carson!"
Near instantly, I knew I had come up with something real, as his face devolved into hysterics, his hands thumping the table and whatnot…
Damn… am I really that funny?! Should I pursue a side gig in comedy? Or is it the format and absurdity working in my favor?
"Mr. Carson– makes me feel like I handed you a detention now… Call me Johnny, would you?" He said after composing himself into a half-grin.
"I would be honored, Johnny… Hmmm, kinda fits, doesn't it?"
"There, now we're friends. Or at least until the commercial break."
Another bout of laughter erupted as we continued chatting, exchanging quips back and forth as we fell into a comfortable rhythm.
"All right Jack, let's wrap this up with a final question, shall we? Now, I have heard some chatter– don't ask me where, but reportedly… You played the role of George Gibbs in your school production of 'Our Town', and rather well, from what I heard. Now what I am getting at is– was it an extracurricular fancy, or do you have plans to branch out?"
Huh.
This one was not rehearsed at all beforehand. I asked for some hardball pokes, but this…He, along with the rest, watched with bated breath as I tried formulating something that made sense… not an easy task, considering he put me on the spot.
But try as I might, I couldn't come up with anything suitably quippy to make them giggle like before.
So I stared off into the space for a moment, felt like minutes to me, but hey– time's relative, I guess.
I glance at Johnny, seeing him nod encouragingly, as I finally gather my guts to open my mouth, "It's been my dream John. Ever since I picked up a pen. I am a storyteller, as I told you, and being a part of someone else's, not just writing one, but actually being a part of the process… I hope it transforms into something more than a dream. Sooner or later John. But someday… I'm hoping with all my heart here."