By: Jordan Blake
Long before Christine Stringer became a breakout voice in fiction with her novel Charity Trickett Is Not So Glamorous, she was just another ambitious young woman chasing a dream in Hollywood. Bright-eyed, ambitious, and eager to carve a path as a screenwriter and producer, Stringer landed a coveted job at MGM—only to have her career derailed by a surreal twist of fate that left her broke, blacklisted, and under FBI investigation.
Now, decades later, she has reclaimed that painful chapter of her life—not through revenge, but through reinvention.
“This book, while fun and lighthearted, is my way of taking back some control over my life after losing it,” Stringer says. “By fictionalizing the most difficult part of my career, I crafted a book filled with heart, fun, and suspense, making Charity Trickett a sympathetic and relatable character in the not-so-glamorous world of Hollywood.”
Charity Trickett Is Not So Glamorous follows a plucky young Canadian, Charity, as she navigates the highs and disappointments of 1997 Los Angeles. Behind the glitter of film sets and red carpets lies a more complex reality—one shaped by long hours, fierce competition, and power structures that were often unkind to young women.
“At the time I was at MGM, they had never had a female executive or board member,” Stringer recalls. “That, in itself, shaped the environment for women. It was clear: the industry didn’t seem interested in hearing from young, fresh, female voices. But while frustrating, that didn’t stop me from pursuing my creative voice. I knew I was being dismissed by people who were out of touch. They were dinosaurs in my world.”
It’s this blend of candor and optimism that defines Stringer’s voice—a style matured by experience, softened by time, and sharpened by self-awareness. While Charity Trickett is inspired by her own challenges in Hollywood, the character evolved into someone braver and more empathetic.
“Charity is who I wish I was when I worked at MGM,” she says. “She’s smarter, more savvy, and more empathetic. When I was under investigation, I only thought about how it impacted me. Now that I’m older, I see how my mistake could have affected others—people with mortgages, kids, careers. Charity sees that too.”
That emotional maturity allows the novel to balance its comedic flair with moments of real reflection. Yes, Charity gets into misadventures and awkward romantic entanglements, but she also wrestles with moral complexity and professional consequences. She’s the kind of heroine we root for—not because she’s perfect, but because she’s learning in real time.
And the setting? A greatly captured pre-social media Hollywood, when movie stars were mysterious, the studio system reigned supreme, and the only way in was through a door someone else held shut.
“In the ‘90s, our images of celebrities were limited to Entertainment Tonight and magazines,” Stringer says. “Movie stars were glamorous and out of reach. But once I worked in film, I realized making movies is hard work. The hours are long. The work is tiring. And the competition is fierce.”
Despite those realities—or perhaps because of them—Stringer’s perspective on Hollywood is not bitter, but thoughtful.
“Hollywood taught me that resilience is essential,” she says. “Projects fall apart, scripts don’t sell, rejection is constant. The people who lasted weren’t always the most talented—they were the ambitious ones who kept going.”
And she’s still going.
Stringer is now hard at work on the sequel, The Fame Game, where Charity and her circle of friends find themselves navigating the complicated terrain of success and stardom. She’s also adapting Not So Glamorous into a screenplay—bringing her creative journey full circle, but on her own terms.
“My voice has evolved since those Hollywood days,” she says. “I’m embracing who I am as a writer and not trying to be what I think others want. This book is 100% me.”
That clarity is something she credits, in part, to leaving behind the rigid expectations of the traditional studio system. While the entertainment industry has evolved significantly since the late ’90s—thanks to streaming platforms, social media, and the democratization of content—some challenges remain.
“With the creation of HD, streaming TV, and social media, there are more avenues to create and distribute stories outside the studio system,” Stringer says. “But if women are going to be on equal footing with men in film production, we need to address the structure of the workday. Twelve to fourteen-hour days aren’t realistic for working parents—especially women, who often carry more childcare responsibilities.”
For Stringer and many of her peers, stepping back from production work after becoming parents wasn’t a lack of passion—it was a matter of survival.
“With companies like Apple and Amazon now producing film and TV, it’s not too much to ask for an eight-hour workday on set. Corporations of that size can support change.”
That push for a more humane, equitable creative industry is central to the world Stringer writes—and lives in now. Through her novels, she’s building a space where messy, ambitious, resilient women like Charity Trickett can thrive.
And while the book is deeply personal, Stringer says the ultimate goal is simple: connection.
“Time is precious,” she says. “So when someone tells me they read my book, I truly appreciate that. I hope I entertained them. I hope I made them laugh and forget about the problems in their complicated world for a little bit. And I hope they want more—because I’m not done telling Charity’s story yet.”
Learn more by visiting: christinestringer.com
