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Such candid statements appear throughout Fools Die. Novelist Puzo enjoys casting a sly peasant eye on pretension and selfdelusion. When moralist Puzo judges his characters' behavior it is not because that behavior offends convention but because it endangers survival. Merlyn's warning to a promiscuous actress about the dangers of V.D. echoes an Army training film, though the reader may not be sure whether the author is trying to be funny or just didactic. The novel's biggest flaw is a switching back and forth from third-to first-person narrative, thus violating Puzo's own first rule of writing.
Yet Merlyn's knack for livery yarning and his ability for introspection give the book its special quality: a fat, comercial novel with a lean, serious writer signaling wildly to get out. Insiders in Las Vegas and Hollywood may be doing some wild signaling themselves. The novel has an enticing roman à clef flavor even though Puzo dismisses the issue with a typically tough and ready remark: "How dare they think they are part of my creation?" Nevertheless, Pauline Kael will be flattered when she recognizes herself as the highly praised film critic Clara Ford. Certain agents, and some executives at Universal who shortchanged Puzo for his script of Earthquake, will not be so pleased.
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 and a gun."
Antagonism between authors and producers is at least as old as Jack Warner's reputed classification of scriptwriters as "schmucks with Underwoods." Puzo has no illusions or false pride about his screen work. "I'm fascinated by the movies simply because it is an enormous machine for making money and no matter how bad they run it, it still makes money. It's the perfect industry to put your nephew in and your idiot cousin, because they'll be geniuses."
The money machine has been exceptionally kind to Puzo. He made about $1 million for his work on Godfather I. For Godfather II he received a $100,000 script fee plus a promise of 10% of the net—which he is yet to see. There is another $1 million, minus legal expenses, for Earthquake, and $350,000 plus 5% of the gross on Superman I and II, the forthcoming spectaculars about The Man of Steel. On top of this, Puzo will earn $250,000 in increments and a gross percentage for his treatment for Godfather III. The paperback millionaire estimates that in the past ten years he has made at least $6 million from his books and movies. Before Godfather, his combined income from two previous novels amounted to $6,500.