Rachel Pine

The first thing people should know about me is that I’ve wanted to write a book since I was four years old. It just took me a while to find a topic.

I grew up in Queens, and I’m a proud graduate of the New York City public school system. We spent all of our summers in Southampton, and that’s where I first entered the world of work – at The Fudge Company, an ice cream and candy store. It was, and still is owned by two brothers who were very focused on the bottom line (a hint of things to come?). I used to get in trouble because I would invariably scoop out ice cream cones that were larger than they were supposed to be.

In the summer between my sophomore and junior years at Stony Brook University I got an internship at Hamptons Magazine. On my second day there, one of the staff writers quit and they gave me his job. I got to write all day, every day and I had a blast.

After graduation I started a little music promotion business, putting on shows with bands like Blues Traveler and the Spin Doctors on Long Island. I also wrote music reviews for “The Southampton Press” and “The Island Ear.” Then I was offered a job as assistant to the head of the music division at the William Morris Agency. The first time I heard of Miramax Films was when my boss had me send flowers to Bob and Harvey Weinstein to congratulate them on their company’s acquisition by Disney.

Four years later, I still hadn’t made much progress at WMA, so I left. I floated around for a while and then a friend helped me get a job as a sales trainee at CNN. The O.J. Simpson trial was taking place, and it seemed like the whole world was glued to the network. Then I heard about a job at Miramax, and after nine interviews, I was hired to be an assistant to the head of publicity.

Miramax in 1995 was at the beginning of a huge, rapid growth spurt. I believe that the number of employees quadrupled during my three and a half years there. Everyone put in what seemed like millions of hours, but it was the single best training ground I’ve ever experienced. I got to work on the publicity campaigns for dozens of films, including “The English Patient,” “Good Will Hunting,” “Sling Blade,” “Scream,” “Emma,” and many others. I got snowed in with George Clooney (and about 300 junket press people); I sat next to David Bowie in a screening of “Basquiat,” watching him watch himself play Andy Warhol; I met Nelson Mandela at a premiere; I answered the phone one day and it was Brad Pitt, saying that he’d lost Gwyneth and her mom in Bloomingdale’s, and could I find them for him – to be fair, most of the time it felt pretty exciting and special to be there.

Then I got a chance to work in marketing, where I worked on “Velvet Goldmine,” “54” and “She’s All That,” among others. Until I got fired, which was horrible.

For a few months, I worked on a freelance project for Nickelodeon, and then became the publicity manager for a terrific magazine called P.O.V. Later on, I was Director of Marketing Communications for a division of USA Networks.

It was clearly taking me some time to find myself. The one constant seemed to be that no matter where I went, the minute someone heard that I’d worked at Miramax, they would ask me lots of questions about Bob, Harvey, their parents, Woody Allen, Quentin Tarantino, Gwyneth Paltrow, Matt and Ben, what did I think really happened between Tom and Nicole? I got an idea for a book about a place that would be a bit like Miramax, but not exactly, and a character who would be kind of like me, at Miramax, only cooler, funnier, smarter – a girl who would know then what I knew now. The only person I told about this grand plan was my boyfriend. I talked to him about it an awful lot. One day he looked at me and said, “Are you going to talk about writing a book, or are you going to write one?” So I wrote the book. And now he’s my husband. And I’ve recently started a new job, as Director of Marketing and Communications at a magazine publisher called Doubledown Media. And I haven’t got a clue about Tom and Nicole.