Word: shaking
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Puzo won his suit against the studio. Yet film writing is a subject that sends him to the mattresses: "It is the most crooked business that I've ever had any experience with," he says. "You can get a better shake in Vegas than you can get in Hollywood." His advice to novelists heading west to write for film: "Make sure you get a gross, not a net percentage of the profits. If you can't get gross, try and get as much money as you can up front. But the best way is to go in with a mask...
...shake-up was another stroke of luck. It separated Puzo from his civil service security blanket and drove him to the offices of Magazine Management. The company owned such macho publications as Male, Men and Man's World. Puzo wrote battle stories. "I became an ace pulp writer," he recalls. "I wiped out whole armies. I wrote a story about an invasion in which I killed 100,000 men and then later read the statistics. There were only 7,000 killed. But in the process, I became an expert on World War II. I knew more than anybody because...
Arok's lips move when he speaks, or rather, when Skora speaks through him. Slip a preprogrammed tape cassette into a slot in Arok's back and he will perform a medley of his domestic hits: bend over, rotate his head 180°, shake your hand, tell bad jokes: "You can be replaced by a robot because robots never make mistakes, mistakes, mistakes...
When U.S. Ambassador Ralph Earle met the Soviets' Vladimir Semyonov at the SALT meeting in Geneva one sunny morning last week, they did not shake hands at the door. It was not because there was any bad feeling between them but because Semyonov, a deputy foreign minister of the Soviet Union, subscribes to an old Russian superstition that it is bad luck to shake hands on a threshold. That is one of the many small oddities of negotiating with the Russians. Although the world's attention is periodically focused on highly publicized encounters between Secretary of State, Cyrus...
...never shake the image. At 43, Francoise Sagan is still, in the minds of many, the enfant terrible of French letters whose precocious first novel, Bonjour Tristesse (1954), was so successful that it enabled her to adopt a reckless life-style of expensive fast cars, gambling and good whisky. True, true. But Sagan has also found time to spin off twelve more novels and nine plays. Her latest dramatic effort, scheduled for a Paris opening in the autumn, is called It's Nice Day and Night and is laced with familiar themes: an adulterous affair, alienation, the triumph...