Flash Fiction Friday! Choices

I watched them in the restaurant.  It was their first date.   He was awkward and spilled water on her new dress.   She flirted too much with the waiter.  He tried too hard to be funny.   She showed too much cleavage.   Mom and Dad, not the best first date ever.

I saw them at their wedding.   Mom was happy.  Dad was happy.  Mom looked terrific in her dress. Dad was in a suit and had sideburns that were way too big.  We used to laugh at their wedding photos when I was a kid.

I saw my birth.  Dad was there for Mom, helping her through the delivery, kissing her afterward.  Mom was there for me.   Both were so happy.  I saw my first birthday, first Christmas, first day at school.

I saw Dad start to look at other women when we all went out to dinner.   I saw Mom try not to notice.  I saw Mom staying up for Dad while he was “working late”.   I saw Mom start to drink more.  I saw Dad start to leave more.   I saw Mom cheat.  I saw Dad cheat.   I saw myself in my room, alone.

I saw that night.  I made myself watch.  I had to.

I saw Dad come home late at night.  I saw Mom, drunk, cell phone out, texting. Dad asked Mom a question.   “Honey, can you grab me a beer?”

Mom left the cell phone out when she left the room.  I saw Dad pick it up, read the text message she'd received.  I saw his face grow red.  Mom came back in the room.  She saw his anger too.  She threw the beer bottle at Dad's head and missed.

“Don't act so shocked.  You've been cheating on me for years!” she yelled.

He threw the cell phone at her and didn't miss.  It hit her in the mouth.  I saw Dad's face soften as blood trickled down my mother's chin.  Mom grabbed a vase nearby and threw it Dad.  This time, it hit.   It got Dad in the chest.   Dad's body rocked back at first, then he regained his balance.  He ran full steam into Mom knocking her over.  I saw their fists fly and heard their screams and grunts.   I saw Dad on top of Mom, his hands wrapped around her throat.  I saw the life drain out of her.

I watched as he stood up, looked around the room.  He picked up the vase, it hadn't shattered.  He got a towel and mopped up the spilt beer.  He swept up the pieces of the bottle.  He had to step over Mom to get in and out of the kitchen to get the broom and to brush the bits of broken glass into the bin.  I watched as he sat on the couch and cried.   I saw myself then, sixteen, coming home from a night with friends.  I saw Dad, then Mom, then I left.

I went back to the night of their first date.  I sat at the table with them.  They didn't seem surprised to see me.   “Please don't do this,” I said.   “I don't want to see that night anymore.”

They both looked at me and laughed.

And then I woke up.   I got dressed.  I went to visit my father in prison.

First Drafts

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As I'm towards the middle of the first draft of my novel tentatively called Tough Girl, I decided that today would be a good day to discuss first drafts in general.  Everyone has their own perspective on this and I would love to hear everyone's take on first drafts, so please feel free to leave comments.  Some authors do only one draft with some minor editing.  These authors include indie fantasy author Michael J Sullivan and best-selling author Tom Robbins.  While I respect their process and somewhat marvel at the quality of their first drafts, the same is not true for yours truly.

My process is a little different.  First drafts help me understand the characters, tone, themes, and plot.  Very few to none of my first drafts resemble the finished product.  Once the initial draft is completed, I then read through making comments and asking myself question after question after question about the novel/script.  I refine my own thoughts on the subject matter.  I ask myself what I'm trying to achieve with a scene, a setting, a character, an object, a dream sequence and how can I possibly make it better?  After a series of notes, I tend replot in greater detail and then do a second draft.

Only on rare, and I meant very rare, occasions do I let anyone read a rough draft.  I have my first chapter up for critique tonight with one of my writing groups and I only did so with a disclaimer.   Many of my fellow critique group members absolutely insist on having their first drafts critiqued to give them guidance on developing a second draft.

Openclipart.org ArtFavor

What do you do?  Do you let your mind play away on the first draft or do you follow a strict plot outline?  Do you hope to nail it the first time through or do you multi-draft?  Do you let people read your rough drafts or do you hide them away from the world like a certain blogger we know?

Happy Hump Day! Grammar and Fun

Today we take a look at grammar and grammar Nazis through the eyes of Stephen Fry.  I've been a Stephen Fry fan for years and, admittedly, I've felt intimidated by his brilliant use of language.  Next to him, I'm afraid I sound a bit low-brow.  I can accept it but he is British so the accent does help.

I've read books by Stephen Fry and seen Stephen in movies and TV shows.  My first encounter with him was as Oscar Wilde in the movie, Wilde.  Only knowing him through these dimensions, I just assumed that the man was very well educated, erudite and completely unwilling to tolerate silliness and ignorance, especially when it came to language.  As a writer that learned her grammar on the streets (read - did not pay attention in class and has been forced to make up for it as an adult), I was sure I could never meet Stephen Fry with my head held high.  Instead, I would be forced to grovel on the floor with the rest of the language heathens.  

It turns out, Stephen is well educated and erudite and is not a jerk about grammar and punctuation at all.  I actually discovered it through his Meet The Author podcast on Itunes.  Below, you will find a shining example of how he refuses to look down on those of us that still struggle with the correct use of commas and modifiers.  



Initially, when I planned this post, another video was going to go here.  But, the makers of the video decided against allowing embedding which is completely their right.  The video was an exceptionally well done revisioning of the opening scene of Inglorious Bastards but centered around grammar.  You can link to the video here, and I hope you do.

To finish off Happy Hump Day, we have one of my favorite Funny or Die videos.  Wait for it...

BAT FIGHT with Will Ferrell from Will Ferrell

Recent Reads I'd Recommend: Virginia Woolf

I was trying to think of who I wanted to recommend today.  I was going between Neil Gaiman and Chuck Palahniuk, between American Gods and Survivor.  I started my usual research, checking reviews and the authors' websites.  Then I thought about a recent tweet I saw from a new friend on Twitter, the basic meaning of which was "I'm reading Mrs. Dalloway for the first time."  When I saw that tweet, I thought to myself, you lucky girl.

So, today, I'm going to recommend not one book, but an author's entire body of work.  For the record, I have so far read Mrs. Dalloway (which deserves several re-readings), A Room of One's Own,  To The Lighthouse and A Writer's Diary.  I know, I still have much more Woolf to read and I will.  She is always on my to read list and is one of the few authors that makes my to reread list. 

I am in love with Mrs. Woolf's use of language and her seemingly constant experimentation with the form of the novel.  I know, some readers really hate her books.  I've been told her works are confusing and daft.  Be warned, I was once a lover of expressionist theatre, so I am a lover of the confusing and daft.  I find Mrs. Woolf to be neither, but I understand how her style could be less than inviting to many readers. 

I find that Virginia Woolf is absolutely deft at creating characters and showing their internal lives.  When I read Mrs. Dalloway, I fell in love with the character of Septimus Warren Smith, an ex-soldier in the midst of a breakdown.  During the time we spend with him, I found myself feeling everything he felt.  I have to believe that had more to do with Mrs. Woolf then it did my ability to empathize.

I find as I write this that I do not have a great gift for expressing the brilliance of others.  I will leave you with several quotes from Virginia Woolf and that will do much more nicely than anything I could write:

"Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book known to him by his heart, and his friends can only read the title."

"Fiction is like a spider's web, attached ever so slightly perhaps, but still attached to life at all four corners. Often the attachment is scarcely perceptible."

"I read the book of Job last night, I don't think God comes out well in it."

"Writing is like sex. First you do it for love, then you do it for your friends, and then you do it for money." 

 

And, as a food lover, this one is one of my favorites:

"One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well." 

 

Writers and Social Media - The Expected and Unexpected

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Okay, so let's be honest, I started a blog to increase my readership.  What type of increase was I looking for?  Considering that my readership previous to blogging consisted of my mom, a few friends and my writing groups, I was pretty much hoping to increase it by a million fold or so. 

I read a good bit of articles on blogging and twitter before I began back in February.  I had tried blogging twice before and didn't really like it.  I never knew what to write or why but this time I came at it with a focus.  I developed a system.  I wanted to publish my short fiction to introduce myself to the readers of the world and discuss writing to connect with the online writing community. 

I'm coming up on the two month mark of the blog and one week on Twitter.  I've gained 45 followers on blogger and 56 on twitter.  I'm able to point possible producers and publishers to both this and my website for samples of my work.  I've made a few friends and found some new writers to follow and have learned a good bit about the craft and business side of writing. 

Ultimately, I hope to increase my readership and that's in its beginning stages.  I will only gain a true readership when I deserve one, when I'm able to consistently put out material worthy of anticipation.  I'm working hard at it and I believe one day that will happen.

Until that day arrives, I'm pretty content with all the little extra perks that have come from blogging and twitter.  The side benefits have been an increased productivity in producing short fiction, a new support system, bettering my craft and having fun.  I never thought I would read so many cool blogs or get so much good advice. 

To me, even if you don't get four thousand followers in your first week, blogging and engaging the reading/writing community are absolutely worth the effort.

Any other opinions out there fellow bloggers and readers of blogs?

Flash Fiction Friday! Silence is Golden

Today, I woke up and thought "Silence is golden."  So I shut my mouth.  And then...

Anatomy of a Scene - The Point of It All

The series, Anatomy of a Scene, ended yesterday.  My hope is that it wasn't too tedious to work through.  This is a series I wanted to do as soon as I decided to start this blog.  I'm a huge process person and since I write in three very different formats - plays, screenplays and fiction, I find that each one requires its own process.  The reason I chose a screenplay for this exercise is that screenplays are a series of shorter scenes.  Plays tend to have longer scenes, sometimes a play is really just one long scene.  Novels and short fiction are their own beasts.

In screenplays, I've found this for myself and heard it in interviews from other screenwriters, it's not a rare occurrence to do ten or more drafts of a screenplay and have draft one look nothing like the final draft.   I think  it's due to the amount of options one has in a screenplay.  With a novel, you tend to have to write so many more words per page that multi-drafting becomes a bit of a burden.  With a play, you may have to rework ten scenes but rarely more than that.  With a screenplay, you usually have forty scenes or more and you can change locations, time periods, incorporate flashbacks and have fantasy sequences.  The options are kind of limitless and the individual scenes are short.  This leads to screenwriters playing with many different options until they find the right one.  It also means that tweaking an individual scene is easier in the sense that you can rework it in a shorter time frame than you can a chapter from a book or a scene from a play.

So, now, after seven days of sharing how just one scene morphed from draft to draft, I open it up to you.  Do you find that, no matter the form you write in, the first draft is similar or nothing like the last draft?  Do you single draft or multi-draft?  Have you ever cut a scene and put it back in? 

Anatomy of a Scene - Part Seven

This is our final installment of Anatomy of a Scene.  The screenplay took nine drafts but we only have seven installments.  You may be asking yourself why?  Well, as you may have guessed from the last post, I wasn't sure if I should keep this scene or not because its basic function had changed greatly and it wasn't absolutely necessary to the script.  I cut it completely from drafts seven and eight, but realized how much I wanted this scene back in the script.

To see how and why I started this project, click here.

INT. CONVENIENCE STORE - MOMENTS LATER

CARL, an old man, sits behind the counter on a stool smoking a cigarette. 
LES, tall and stocky, stands nearby holding a bulging bag of rice.  The two have been chatting a while.

CARL

I heard your sister’s run off with that army guy.

Makenzie, Taylor and Kelly enter.  The open door let’s gray light into the otherwise fluorescent room.

LES

You know her, she runs off every once and again.

CARL

But she always comes back.

LES

Her husband insists on it.

The two laugh at the familiar banter.
The kids take in the store, the aisles are long, the floor is dirty.  Everything looks old fashioned to them, something they don’t encounter often.
Taylor walks straight to the counter.

TAYLOR

I need some double A batteries.

Carl pulls them off the shelf and places them by the register.

CARL

That’ll be eight fifty.

Taylor pulls out a credit card.

CARL

Cash.

TAYLOR

What?

Carl points to a handwritten note taped to the outside of the register. 
INSERT:
“No credit cards unless purchasing fifteen dollars or more.”

TAYLOR

Oh.  Okay.  Um.
Kelly throws some candy bars, bubble gum and a copy of JUGS on the counter. 

KELLY

Just ring them up together, and whatever she’s getting.

They turn to Makenzie.  She’s holding bug spray and toothpaste.  She’s stopped in front of a shelf near the register. 

MAKENZIE

How many snake bite kits do you think I need?

Carl glances from Makenzie to Taylor and Kelly who shrug. 

CARL

I don’t know.  How concerned are you with living?

Makenzie grabs three snake bite kits from the shelf.

Soooo, I'm guessing you've noticed Kevin became Kelly.  Remember all those times I said I couldn't keep Kevin and Taylor apart in my head?  It was because they were the same character, or at least they were written in an almost identical fashion.  Through the first six drafts, they really added nothing to the story.  They were fodder for the killers and I treated them as such.

Then, after getting a few very good and honest critiques of drafts five and six, I realized the story needed some radical changes.  One of those changes was Kelly.  I won't go into the entire plot but let's say that I needed a strong female and I was forced to kill off most of the ones I had created.  Then I realized that Taylor having a girlfriend camp with him would make more sense than a friend.  This way, Taylor could become more dynamic by how he and Kelly behaved as a couple.  You may be able to tell by the items Kelly buys that she's the more fun loving of the group.

And there you have it.  Through nine drafts I changed the wording, the descriptions, the intent of the scene, and even some of the characters.  It's hard to compare number one to number nine and I'm not really going for which is better or worse.  The entire point of this exercise was more HOW MUCH things can change as you go through the process and how you have to be open to change.  I can tell you draft nine of the full screenplay is far better than draft one.  I can also tell you, if I hadn't already entered it into so many contests, I would re-edit this scene again.

Anatomy of a Scene - Part Six

Today is part six in our series.  This is draft six of The Convenience Store Scene.  To see how and why I started this project, click here.

INT. CONVENIENCE STORE - MOMENTS LATER

CARL, an old man, sits behind the counter on a stool smoking a cigarette.  LES, tall and stocky, stands nearby holding a bulging bag of rice.  The two have been chatting a while.

CARL

I heard your sister’s run off with that army guy.

Makenzie, Taylor and Kevin enter.  The open door let’s in gray light from outside into the otherwise fluorescent room.

LES

You know her, she runs off every once and again.

CARL

But she always comes back.

LES

Her husband insists on it.

The two laugh at the familiar banter.
The kids take in the store, the aisles are long, the floor is dirty.  Everything looks old fashioned to them, something they don’t encounter often.
Taylor walks straight to the counter.

TAYLOR

I need some double A batteries.

Carl pulls them off the shelf and places them by the register.

CARL

That’ll be eight fifty.

Taylor pulls out a credit card.

CARL

Cash.

TAYLOR

What?

Carl points to a handwritten note taped to the outside of the register. 
INSERT:
“No credit cards unless purchasing fifteen dollars or more.”

TAYLOR

Oh.  Okay.  Um.

Kevin throws some rolling papers and tobacco on the counter. 

KEVIN

Just ring them up together, and whatever she’s getting.

They turn to Makenzie.  She’s holding bug spray and toothpaste.  She’s stopped in front of a shelf near the register. 

MAKENZIE

How many snake bite kits do you think I need?

Carl glances from Makenzie to the boys who shrug. 

CARL

I don’t know.  How concerned are you with living?

Makenzie grabs three snake bite kits from the shelf.

I FINALLY looked up the price of batteries.  It was on my to do list for months and I finally broke down and did it.  It took 30 seconds. 

Oh, and the scene completely changed, so there's that.  One, it's a ton shorter.  Two, the Bunnyman plot and the homeless plot were all cut.  The foreshadowing of the bear was taken care of in a later scene with a character that reappears a few times.  So what's the point of this scene now?  It may not seem to have much of one but it actually operates in two ways.  One, structurally it was a good break to allow me to cut to another scene where the killers first meet one of the campers setting up the inevitable events that follow.  Two, Makenzie is the main focus through the first forty minutes of the movie.  She does not want to go camping and she has never been camping.  She has a fear of being in the woods and a fear of nature.  I wanted to have a chance to show that while she's still in society.  Since the scene is now so quick, it still works in the context of the screenplay.  If I drew it out with dialogue, it's lack of motivation would ruin the pace of the movie.  A quick flash into the mentality of the character is worth a side scene as long as there's a punch line or something worth watching.  Also, I fell in love with Carl and Les.  It happens.

Anatomy of a Scene - Part Five

Today is part five in our series.  This is draft five of The Convenience Store Scene.  To see how and why I started this project, click here.

INT. CONVENIENCE STORE - MOMENTS LATER

CARL, an old man, sits behind the counter on a stool smoking a cigarette.  LES, tall and stocky, stands nearby holding a bulging bag of rice.  The two have been chatting a while.

CARL

I heard your sister’s run off with that army guy.

Makenzie, Taylor and Kevin enter.  The open door let’s in gray light from outside into the otherwise fluorescent room.

LES

You know her, she runs off every once and again.

CARL

But she always comes back.

LES

Her husband insists on it.

The two laugh at the familiar banter.
The kids take in the store, the aisles are long, the floor is dirty.  Everything looks old fashioned to them, something they don’t encounter often.
Taylor walks straight to the counter.

TAYLOR

I need some double A batteries.

Carl pulls them off the shelf and places them by the register.

CARL

That’ll be four fifty.

Taylor pulls out a credit card.

CARL

Cash.

TAYLOR

What?

Carl points to a handwritten note taped to the outside of the register. 
INSERT:
“No credit cards unless purchasing fifteen dollars or more.”

TAYLOR

Oh.  Okay.  Um.

Kevin throws some rolling papers and tobacco on the counter. 

KEVIN

Just ring them up together, and whatever she’s getting.

They turn to Makenzie.  She’s holding bug spray and toothpaste.  She’s stopped in front of a shelf near the register.  The shelf is full of Bunnyman memorabilia: bumper stickers, postcards, and T-shirts that read “I escaped the Bunnyman”.

KEVIN

The Bunnyman.

CARL

T-shirts are two for one.   I’d wait until you’re done camping to get them though, don’t want to jinx yourselves.

MAKENZIE

What’s the Bunnyman?

Carl turns his head slowly from Makenzie to Kevin and Taylor.  He stares hard at them, like they’re killers.
Makenzie walks over to them.

CARL

You guys up here camping?

TAYLOR

Yes.  Yes sir.

CARL

You taking her camping up here, and you ain’t even told her what might happen?

KEVIN

It’s just a story.

CARL

Son, I’ve lived here all my life, and one thing I know is, the Bunnyman ain’t just a story.

MAKENZIE

What is he?

CARL

A killer.  Pure and simple.  He stalks campers.  They go missing from time to time and it’s the Bunnyman that gets them, sure enough.

TAYLOR

About those batteries...

CARL

You don’t believe me, but I knew him before he was The Bunnyman, back when he was just James Kelly.  Crazy sum bitch but he never hurt nobody, until about twenty years ago.  James took his wife, and his baby girl out camping by Big Lake.  His wife wasn’t a good woman, cheated on him, ran around every chance she got.  We all pretty much figured that baby wasn’t his.  But even a woman like that didn’t deserve what he did to her.  He gutted her, like a pig.  Daughter too.  He was up there three days with those bodies.  Don’t know what he was doing with them, but they were in pieces by the time anyone found them.  They say it’s not safe to go camping by Big Lake.  James ain’t never been found.  But campers have, their bodies anyway.  Lot’s of ‘em. 

MAKENZIE

Why do they call him the Bunnyman?

CARL

Oh, that.  Well, besides campers, lots of dead bunny carcasses been found up by Big Lake.  Some of them look like they been tortured to death.

LES

Could just be the homeless people up there in the woods.

CARL

Those people know to cover their tracks.  They don’t want it known they’re up there.  No.  It’s the Bunnyman. 

MAKENZIE

He’s still up there?

CARL

Oh, yeah.  He’s up there.  Devil don’t leave hell but rarely.  James don’t leave Big Lake at all.

KEVIN

It’s just an urban legend.

TAYLOR

Well, a suburban legend.

KEVIN

Or a rural legend.

CARL

You believe what you like.

KEVIN

(to Makenzie) It’s a boogie man story.  This guy loves to tell it so people will buy his T-shirts.

CARL

Oh, he’s out there.  Just waiting for more campers.  That’ll be fifteen fifteen please.

Taylor hands him his credit card.

CARL

Rumor has it, Bunnyman loves coming out this time of year.

KEVIN

Rumor has it you’re full of shit.

LES

Better watch yourself, son.

Carl hands Taylor back his credit card with a creepy smile.

CARL

Y’all have a nice trip.

Kevin and Taylor grab their stuff and leave.  Makenzie stares at the Bunnyman stuff for a moment before she goes.  The door clangs shut behind them.

LES

I don’t know why you insist on telling campers that damn Bunnyman story.

CARL

Cause they believe it. 

The two laugh.

I realized by this draft, draft 5, that I had described the day earlier as overcast and that it is cloudy through most of the script.  In every draft previous to this, I had a golden ray of light enter with the campers.  But that's not what happened here.  " The open door let’s in gray light from outside into the otherwise fluorescent room."
Not to sound pretentious, but the campers are removed from the city and they're going into nature.  The lighting here reflects that, a natural source of light cutting into a VERY unnatural source of light.  Also, fluorescent light is bright and while not cheery, is definitely more welcoming than gray light.  It may seem a bit esoteric but if you rewatch a lot of films, the lighting usually is helping to tell the story in a similar, unobtrusive way.  Those kind of nuances are one of the reasons I love film. 

The Bunnyman is BACK?  WTF?  I'm sure every writer has done this.  You have an idea, you fall in love with that idea, you cannot let that idea go.  I didn't even finish draft five.  I wanted the Bunnyman back so badly and felt like I had nothing better to replace him with.  So I tried, I tried VERY hard to put him back in the script and make him relevant.

I also tried to develop the characters a touch more and to let the audience know that they've sat through this same story before:

TAYLOR

About those batteries...

Carl's story still isn't there yet, but it's a bit better, or at least shorter.

I also tried to add a bit more to the scene, make it more dynamic.   You'll notice there's more banter, less question/answer like there was in the earlier scenes. 

CARL

Rumor has it, Bunnyman loves coming out this time of year.

KEVIN

Rumor has it you’re full of shit.



More next time!

Flash Fiction Friday! The Blow Up

Photo by nixxphotography

I was with Bob when he exploded.  He'd been going through a divorce and changing jobs.  When he told me he got evicted and needed to move to a cheaper apartment, I warned him:

“Take it easy, Bob.  You're doing too much at once.   Why don't you crash with me for a few months, until you get back on your feet, safely?”  I can be a pretty nice guy when I think about it.

My warning fell on deaf ears and really, what did I expect?  If Bob had been a listener, his wife wouldn't have left him and he wouldn't have been fired from his job.  Actually, Bob was kind of an ass. Still, that didn't mean I wanted bits of him all over me.

Bob is friend number three that has blown to bits.   I lost Trevor first.  Poor Trevor never stood a chance being a stutterer and having to give a speech at work.  Delane was a bomb tech, so when she exploded and the bomb didn't, we were shocked.

Bob and I were having breakfast when it happened.   He was on the phone with his new landlord.

“You can't raise the rent, we signed a lease... I know there's a clause but I'm a brand new tenant... I don't care how many other people would love that apartment, it's my apartment...”

I wonder if the landlord knew the stress levels Bob was carrying.  I'd like to think that if he did, he would have backed off.  Probably not.  Most likely, he hoped Bob would blow to bits so he could keep the pre-paid move-in fee and rerent the apartment on the quick.  Those jerks were doing that kind of thing all the time these days.  What was one more bloke blown to smithereens?  Some people think it gets rid of the genetic weak links, some people.

Bob hung up the phone.

“Buddy, you okay?” I asked, though of course I could tell the answer was no.

Bob's face had gone red, not that pink some people get from laughing too hard but a deep tomato red like happens when you hold your breath for way way way too long.  Sweat poured from his brow.

“Calm down, Bob, it's just an apartment.  There's plenty of apartments out there.”

His eyes bugged out of his head farther than any cartoon I'd ever seen before.  His face swelled, neck grew large like he swallowed a bag of oranges.  His pants split down the seams.   Just when I thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head, his entire body exploded sending chunks of Bob all over the other diners.

“Really?” the teenage girl across from me said.   “Gross.”  I watched her pick Bob's ear out of her salad.  “Why don't they just, like, chill out or something?”

I have to admit, I was wondering the same thing.

Anatomy of a Scene - Part Four

Today is part four in our series.  This is draft four of The Convenience Store Scene.  To see how and why I started this project, click here.

INT. CONVENIENCE STORE - MOMENTS LATER

CARL, an old man, sits behind the counter on a stool smoking a cigarette.  LES, tall and stocky, stands nearby holding a bulging bag of rice.  The two have been chatting a while.

CARL

I heard your sister’s run off with that army guy.

Makenzie, Taylor and Kevin enter.  The open door lets golden light into the otherwise gray room.

LES

You know her, she runs off every once again.

CARL

But she always comes back.

LES

Her husband insists on it.

The two laugh at the familiar banter.
The kids take in the store, the aisles are long, the floor is dirty.  Everything looks old fashioned to them, something they don’t encounter often.
Taylor walks straight to the counter.

TAYLOR

I need some double A batteries.

Carl pulls them off the shelf and places them by the register.

CARL

That’ll be four fifty.

Taylor pulls out a credit card.

CARL

Cash.

TAYLOR

What?

Carl points to a handwritten note taped to the outside of the register. 
INSERT:
“No credit cards unless purchasing fifteen dollars or more.”

 TAYLOR

Oh.  Okay.  Um.

Kevin throws some rolling papers and tobacco on the counter. 

KEVIN

Just ring them up together, and whatever she’s getting.

They turn to Makenzie.  She’s holding bug spray and toothpaste.  She’s stopped in front of a shelf near the register.  On the shelf is a snake bite kit.

MAKENZIE

How much for the snake kit?

CARL

Fifteen dollars.

MAKENZIE

(grabbing it off the shelf) Ring it up, please.

CARL

You guys up here camping?

TAYLOR

Yes.  Yes sir.

CARL

Kind of late in the season, ain’t it?

KEVIN

We do it every year.  Nice and quiet.

LES

Lots of privacy.

KEVIN

Yeah.

LES

Except there’s lots of illegal campers right now.  Survivalists, homeless, you know.  They like the empty camp grounds.

CARL

Those people ain’t bothering nobody.  Best not to speak ill about people that keep to themselves. 

LES

I ain’t said nothing bad.

CARL

(to the campers) That’ll be fifteen fifteen please.

Taylor hands him his credit card.

LES

Don’t worry about those people.  What you should be worried about is bears.

KEVIN

You got bears around here?

LES

Next to a forest.  They don’t bother humans much, but it’s pretty late in the season to go camping.  Near denning time.  So be careful.

TAYLOR

Dinner time?

LES

Denning.  Hibernating.  They’re trying to get their last meals before they sleep all winter.

MAKENZIE

Are they big bears?

CARL

Big enough to eat ya.

TAYLOR

We’ll keep that in mind.

Kevin and Taylor nod towards Les, grab their stuff and leave.  Makenzie tries to give them a smile, but can’t muster one.  She follows the boys out.

MAKENZIE

(as they leave) I didn’t know there were going to be bears.

CARL

You ain’t never seen no bears in them woods.

LES

Nope.  But they don’t know that.

CARL

Them campers ain’t gonna sleep tonight. 

The two laugh.

This draft is where I started trying to pay attention to as many details as possible.  In the opening I change the description of Les from large and holding a large bag of rice to:  LES, tall and stocky, stands nearby holding a bulging bag of rice.  This is not a huge change, but now Les is a little more real and the rice has a bit more character.  It's more of a nuance thing but you have to do everything you can to make the script unique and flow well.  Bland descriptions will not do.

Hey!  You completely changed the scene!

Yes.  Yes I did.  The first line you would have noticed it on is when Makenzie stops at the shelf:
On the shelf is a snake bite kit.

What happened to all the bunnyman stuff?  This is where the story of the multiple drafts gets interesting.  Right around draft four, I noticed, this isn't working.  I started toying with the idea of eliminating the bunnyman.  The story is really about the campers and three boys, two of whom have just been released from prison, and how one  group becomes prey and one hunters.  The bunnyman was just a red herring even though my intention was for the audience to feel fear first from a supernatural source then from a human source.  My lofty goal was to say "Hey, we're the ones we have to be afraid of".

Also, I made everyone a bit friendlier and they all spoke in exposition:

CARL

Kind of late in the season, ain’t it?

KEVIN

We do it every year.  Nice and quiet.

LES

Lots of privacy.

KEVIN

Yeah.

Needless to say, this is not my favorite draft but it was a time of great transition. 

You have most likely deduced by now that there will be a bear that figures into the story at a later time.

I tried to end the scene with a similar joke, but it doesn't really come across.

In truth, this scene is flat from almost every angle.  It just lays there.

More next time.

Anatomy of a Scene - Part Three

Today is part three in our series.  This is draft three of The Convenience Store Scene.  To see how and why I started this project, click here.

INT. CONVENIENCE STORE - MOMENTS LATER

CARL, an old man, sits behind the counter on a stool smoking a cigarette.  LES, large and stocky, stands nearby holding a large bag of rice.  The two have been chatting a while.

CARL

I heard your sister’s run off with that army guy.

Makenzie, Taylor and Kevin enter.  The open door let’s golden light into the otherwise gray room.

LES

She’ll be back.  You know her, she runs off every once again.

CARL

But she always comes back.

LES

Her husband insists on it.

The two laugh at the familiar banter.
The kids take in the store, the aisles are long, the floor is dirty.  Everything looks old fashioned to them, something they don’t encounter often.
Taylor walks straight to the counter.

TAYLOR

I need some double A batteries.

Carl pulls them off the shelf and places them by the register.

CARL

That’ll be four fifty.

Taylor pulls out a credit card.

CARL

Cash.

TAYLOR

What?

Carl points to a handwritten note taped to the outside of the register. 
INSERT:
“No credit cards unless purchasing fifteen dollars or more.”

TAYLOR

Oh.  Okay.  Um.

Kevin throws some rolling papers and tobacco on the counter. 

KEVIN

Just ring them up together, and whatever she’s getting.

They turn to Makenzie.  She’s holding bug spray and toothpaste.  She’s stopped in front of a shelf near the register.  The shelf is full of Bunnyman memorabilia: bumper stickers, postcards, and T-shirts that read “I escaped the Bunnyman”.

KEVIN

The Bunnyman.

CARL

T-shirts are two for one.   I’d wait until you’re done camping to get them though, don’t want to jinx yourselves.

MAKENZIE

What’s the Bunnyman?

Carl turns his head slowly from Makenzie to Kevin and Taylor.  He stares hard at them, like they’re killers.
Makenzie walks over to them.

CARL

You guys up here camping?

TAYLOR

Yes.  Yes sir.

CARL

You taking her camping up here, and you ain’t even told her what might happen?

KEVIN

It’s just a story.

CARL

Son, I’ve lived here all my life, and one thing I know is, the Bunnyman ain’t just a story.

MAKENZIE

What is he?

CARL

A killer.  Pure and simple.  I knew him before he was The Bunnyman, back when he was just James Kelly.  I watched him grow up.  We all knew he wasn’t going to end up no good.  He was never quite right, but even I didn’t know what he was capable of.  About twenty years ago, James took his wife, and his baby girl out camping by Big Lake.  His wife wasn’t a good woman, cheated on him, ran around every chance she got.  We all pretty much figured that baby wasn’t his.  But even a woman like that didn’t deserve what he did to her.  He gutted her, like a pig.  Daughter too.  He was up there three days with those bodies.  Don’t know what he was doing with them, but they were in pieces by the time anyone found them.  They say it’s not safe to go camping by Big Lake.  James ain’t never been found.  But campers have, their bodies anyway.  Lot’s of ‘em. 

MAKENZIE

Why do they call him the Bunnyman?

CARL

Oh, that.  Well, besides campers, lots of dead bunny carcasses been found up by Big Lake.  Some of them look like they been tortured to death.

LES

Could just be the homeless people up there in the woods.

CARL

Those people know to cover their tracks.  They don’t want it known they’re up there.  No.  It’s the Bunnyman. 

MAKENZIE

He’s still up there?

CARL

Oh, yeah.  He’s up there.  Man like that, he don’t leave.  Devil don’t leave hell but rarely.  James don’t leave Big Lake at all.

KEVIN

It’s just an urban legend.

TAYLOR

Well, a suburban legend.

CARL

You believe what you like.

KEVIN

(to Makenzie) It’s a boogie man story.  This guy loves to tell it so people will buy his T-shirts.

CARL

Oh, he’s out there.  Just waiting for more campers.  That’ll be fifteen fifteen please.

Taylor hands him his credit card.

LES

(To Makenzie) Don’t worry about the Bunnyman.  What you should be worried about is bears.

KEVIN

You got bears around here?

LES

Next to a forest.  They don’t bother humans much, but it’s pretty late in the season to go camping.  Near denning time.  So be careful.

TAYLOR

Dinner time?

LES

Denning.  Hibernating.  They’re trying to get their last meals before they hibernate.  So be careful.

Kevin and Taylor nod towards Les, grab their stuff and leave.  Makenzie stares at the Bunnyman stuff for a moment before she goes.  The door clangs shut behind them.

LES

I don’t know why you insist on telling campers that damn Bunnyman story.

CARL

Cause they believe it. 
 
The two laugh.

You may have noticed, I got Taylor and Kevin's names right through the script, even though I still hadn't checked on the price of batteries.


I changed a line early on FROM  "Carl turns his head slowly from Makenzie to Kevin and Taylor."  TO

"Carl turns his head slowly from Makenzie to Kevin and Taylor.  He stares hard at them, like they’re killers."  I wanted the line to be more descriptive and eerie and to tell the reader (you have to go through readers before you ever get produced) that things aren't going to go well.  Using the word "killers" was a way to do that.

I was still tinkering with Carl's speech in this draft, but you can see that not much has changed.  This happens.  When I was writing that speech the voice sounded alive in my head and I just got stuck with it.  Reading it now, I'm really not pleased with it.  Then, I was in love with it.

Yay!!!!  I had finally come up with a better reason for him to be called the Bunnyman.  "Well, besides campers, lots of dead bunny carcasses been found up by Big Lake.  Some of them look like they been tortured to death."  - it's about time!

Homeless people?  Where'd they come from?  Well, by draft three I realized I needed some more red herrings to make this work.  I'd heard about illegal campers and knew that a state-park type campsite would be a good place for anyone needing a place to crash because there are plenty of facilities available.  The homeless people cropped up from time to time throughout the script, usually the campers would see them and get scared or weirded out or mistake them for the bunnyman. 

And finally, I clue the audience in on why Carl is being so dang creepy in the first place:

KEVIN

(to Makenzie) It’s a boogie man story.  This guy loves to tell it so people will buy his T-shirts.

I'm not saying the audience wouldn't have figured it out anyway, but at least this way they know the characters are aware of it.  This cynicism also makes Makenzie's growing paranoia look even more foolish.

More next time.

Anatomy of a Scene - Part Two

We are interrupting the daily flow of the blog to continue on with Anatomy of a Scene.  Below is the second draft of the Convenience Store scene followed by notes.  To see how and why I started this project, click here.

INT. CONVENIENCE STORE - MOMENTS LATER

CARL, an old man, sits behind the counter on a stool smoking a cigarette.  LES, large and stocky, stands nearby holding a large bag of rice.  The two have been chatting a while.

CARL

I heard your sister’s run off with that army guy.

Makenzie, Taylor and Kevin enter.  The open door let’s golden light into the otherwise gray room.

LES

She’ll be back.  You know her, she runs off every once again.

CARL

But she always comes back.

LES

I think her husband insists on it.

The two laugh at the familiar banter.
The kids take the store in, the aisles are long, the floor is dirty.  Everything looks old fashioned to them, something they don’t encounter often.
Taylor walks straight to the counter.

TAYLOR

I need some double A batteries.

Carl pulls them off the shelf and places them by the register.

CARL

That’ll be four fifty.

Kevin pulls out a credit card.

CARL

Cash.

TAYLOR

What?

Carl points to a handwritten note taped to the outside of the register.  “Only use credit cards if you’re purchasing fifteen dollars or more.”

TAYLOR

Oh.  Okay.  Um.

Kevin throws some rolling papers and tobacco on the counter. 

KEVIN

Just ring them up together, and whatever she’s getting.

They turn to Makenzie.  She’s holding bug spray and toothpaste.  She’s stopped in front of a shelf near the register.  The shelf is full of Bunnyman memoriabilia: bumper stickers, postcards, and T-shirts that read “I escaped the Bunnyman”.

KEVIN

The Bunnyman.

CARL

T-shirts are two for one.   I’d wait until you’re done camping to get them though, don’t want to jinx yourselves.

MAKENZIE

What’s the Bunnyman?

Carl turns his head slowly from Makenzie to Kevin and Taylor.  Makenzie walks over to them.

CARL

You guys up here camping?

TAYLOR

Yes...yes sir.

CARL

You taking her camping up here, and you ain’t even told her what might happen?

KEVIN

It’s just a story.

CARL

Son, I’ve lived her all my life, and one thing I know is, the Bunnyman ain’t just a story.

MAKENZIE

What is he?

CARL

A killer.  That’s what he is.  I knew The Bunnyman back when he was just James Kelly.  I watched him grow up, knew he wasn’t going to end up no good.  He was never quite right.  About twenty years ago, James took his wife, and his baby girl out camping by Big Lake.  His wife wasn’t a good woman, cheated on him, ran around every chance she got.  But even she didn’t deserve what he did to her.  He gutted her, like a pig.  Daughter too.  He was up there three days with those bodies.  Don’t know what he was doing with them, but they were in pieces by the time anyone found them.  They say it’s not safe to go camping by Big Lake.  James ain’t never been found.  But campers have, their bodies anyway.  Lot’s of ‘em. 

MAKENZIE

Why do they call him the Bunnyman?

CARL

Oh, that.  I told you James wasn’t quite right.  He wore a bunny costume from time to time when he was a boy, even when it wasn’t Halloween.  I never saw him do it as an adult, but it’s said that he’s been spotted in a bunny costume up by the lake. 

MAKENZIE

He’s still up there?

CARL

Oh, yeah.  He’s up there.  Man like that, he don’t leave.  Devil don’t leave hell but rarely.  James don’t leave Big Lake at all.

KEVIN

It’s just an urban legend.

TAYLOR

Well, a suburban legend.

CARL

You believe what you like.

KEVIN

(to Makenzie) It’s a boogey man story. 

CARL

Oh, he’s out there.  Just waiting for more cammpers.  That’ll be fifteen fifteen please.

Taylor hands him his credit card.

LES

(To Makenzie) Don’t worry about the Bunnyman.  What you should be worried about is bears.

KEVIN

You got bears around here?

LES

Next to a forest.  They don’t bother humans much, but it’s pretty late in the season to go camping.  Near denning time.  So be careful.

TAYLOR

Dinner time?

LES

Denning.  Hibernating.  They’re trying to get their last meals before they hibernate.  So be careful.
Kevin and Taylor nod towards Les, grab their stuff and leave.  Makenzie stares at the Bunnyman stuff for a moment before she goes.  The door clangs shut behind them.

LES

I don’t know why you insist on telling campers that damn Bunnyman story.

CARL

Cause they believe it. 

The two laugh.


First things first.  I switched an early line to: The kids take the store in - it used to read "They take the store in" - making it sound like Carl and Les chose this time to actually look around the store.  I chose the word "kids" even though the characters are in their twenties to emphasize how much younger they are than Carl.

As you can see, I still hadn't checked the price of batteries before this draft and I was still mixing up Taylor and Kevin, something that will come up in great detail in a later post.

Carl's speech is a little cleaner here, but not what I would call good.  It still doesn't ring true.  You'll also notice that the very lame reason why James Kelly is called "The Bunnyman" is still there.  He wore a bunny costume as a kid.  Not super clever on my part.

This draft does contain one of my favorite lines, one that did not make it to the final draft: "Devil don’t leave hell but rarely.  James don’t leave Big Lake at all."

Also, I tried to make Carl a bit more of a smart alleck with the line:   "Oh, he’s out there.  Just waiting for more cammpers" - I know it's misspelled, but I'm determined to leave in those warts.

Also, even though it's corny, I've kept in the "denning time" joke.  Yes, at the time I did think it was genius.

More next time.

Anatomy of a Scene - Part One

This is a project I've wanted to do for a long time.  I've wanted to share how a scene can change radically and/or not at all from draft to draft.  This is a seven part series that will bump every other regular post except Flash Fiction Fridays.   Consider yourself warned.

I recently finished a screenplay.  It's my third feature length and I've written a good bit of short screenplays as well.  This one took six months and went through nine drafts and a TON of critiques from fellow writers and a few movie lovers.  I want to share one scene and how it changed from draft to draft.  This scene was one I was half looking forward to and half dreading.

The story is called BRUTAL.  The original idea centered around The Bunnyman, an urban legend based on the local lore of Springfield, VA.  The script was supposed to be a fairly basic horror movie where six campers go to a nearly empty campsite.  Pretty soon it becomes evident that they are being stalked and they assume it's the legendary Bunnyman, but it's actually some fellow campers.

The scene we're looking at appears early on in the story.  The campers stop in the tiny town just before reaching the campsite.  Three of them head to the diner, three head to the drugstore.  That is where we pick up.

This scene was challenging because most horror movies have a scene where the victims are warned well ahead of time, usually by an elderly man.  I wanted to play with the tropes of the horror genre so I really wanted to nail this scene and make it interesting.  Below is my first crack at the scene.

As usual,  Blogger is not good for screenplay format, so please bear with me there.


INT. CONVENIENCE STORE - MOMENTS LATER

CARL, an old man, sits behind the counter on a stool smoking a cigarette.  LES, a man in his forties, large and stocky, stands nearby holding a large bag of rice.  The two have been chatting a while.

CARL

I heard your sister’s run off with that army guy.

Makenzie, Taylor and Kevin enter.  The open door let’s golden light into the otherwise gray room.

LES

She’ll be back.  You know her, she runs off every once again.

CARL

But she always comes back.

LES

Her husband insists on it.

The two laugh at the familiar joke.
 
They take the store in, the aisles are long, the floor is dirty.  Everything looks old fashioned to them, something they don’t encounter often.
 
Taylor walks straight to the counter.

TAYLOR

I need some double A batteries.

Carl pulls them off the shelf and places them by the register.

CARL

That’ll be four fifty.

Kevin pulls out a credit card.

CARL

Cash.

TAYLOR

What?

Carl points to a handwritten note taped to the outside of the register.  “Only use credit cards if you’re purchasing fifteen dollars or more.”

TAYLOR

Oh.  Okay.  Um.

Kevin throws some rolling papers on the counter. 

KEVIN

Just ring them up together, and whatever she’s getting.

They turn to Makenzie.  She’s holding bug spray and toothpaste.  She’s stopped in front of a shelf near the register.  The shelf is full of bunnyman memoriabilia: bumper stickers, postcards saying “I escaped the Bunnyman” and T-shirts.

KEVIN

The Bunnyman.

CARL

T-shirts are two for one.

MAKENZIE

What’s the bunnyman?

Carl turns his head slowly from Makenzie to Kevin and Taylor.  Makenzie walks over to them.

CARL

You guys up here camping?

TAYLOR

Yes...yes sir.

CARL

You taking her camping up here, and you ain’t even told her what might happen?

KEVIN

It’s just a story.

CARL

Son, I’ve lived her all my life, and one thing I know is, the Bunnyman ain’t just a story.

MAKENZIE

What is he?

CARL

A killer.  That’s what he is.  The Bunnyman’s name was James Kelly Turner.  He was born around these parts.  He was never quite right.  I watched him grow up, knew he wasn’t going to end up no good.  About twenty years ago, James took his wife, and his baby girl out camping by Big Lake.  His wife wasn’t a good woman, cheated on him, ran around every chance she got.  But even she didn’t deserve what he did to her.  He gutted her, like a pig.  Daughter too.  He was up there three days with those bodies.  Don’t know what he was doing with them, but they were in pieces by the time anyone found them.  But they didn’t find James.  They say it’s not safe to go camping by Big Lake.  James ain’t never been found.  But bodies have campers have.  Lot’s of em. 

MAKENZIE

Why do they call him the Bunnyman?

CARL

Oh, that.  I said James wasn’t right.  He, uh, wore a bunny costume from time to time when he was a boy, even when it wasn’t Halloween.  I never saw him do it as an adult, but it’s said that he’s been spotted in a bunny costume up by the lake. 

KEVIN

It’s just an urban legend.

TAYLOR

Well, a suburban legend.

CARL

Oh, he’s out there.  That’ll be fifteen fifteen please.

Taylor hands him his credit card.

LES

(To Makenzie) Don’t worry about the bunnyman.  What you should be worried about is bears.

KEVIN

You got bears around here?

LES

Next to a forest.  They don’t bother humans much, but it’s pretty late in the season to go camping.  Near denning time.  So be careful.

TAYLOR

Dinner time?

LES

Denning.  Hibernating.  They’re trying to get their last meals before they hibernate.  So be careful.

Kevin and Taylor nod towards Les, grab their stuff and leave.  Makenzie stares at the Bunnyman stuff for a moment before she goes.  The door clangs shut behind them.

LES

I don’t know why you insist on telling campers that damn Bunnyman story.

CARL

Cause they believe it. 


The two laugh. 


Okay, that was try number one.  There's definitely some spelling errors and I mixed up Taylor and Kevin's names (I left in all the warts).  The story Carl tells is pretty lame, but as far as my usual first drafts go, I didn't think it was horrible.  Tomorrow, we'll see my first revisions.

O'Neill Conference

So, I don't think I had the blog yet when this happened, but I was selected as a semi-finalist for the 2011 Eugene O'Neill Playwrights Conference.  I didn't know how many people applied and I was pretty sure I wouldn't get in because they only accept eight people a year but I was very honored to be a semi-finalist.  I just found out that I did not make the final cut.  Today, I received one of the nicest, kindest, most supportive rejections letters I have ever received, and I get rejected a lot (welcome to being a writer). 

I want to thank the O'Neill committee for being so completely nice and thoughtful.  As a person struggling to start a career in a competitive field where rejection is par for the course, it's nice to receive encouragement from a large and prestigious organization.  So thank you, it means a lot.

Also, I found out today that there were over one THOUSAND applicants this year and that I made it into the top three hundred.  I'm getting there.  One day,  I will have a career as a writer.  I promise.

Flash Fiction Friday! Ice Brothers

So, I'm actually on vacation this week and, as such, did not have time to write a piece of flash fiction. That's right, every Friday it's fresh.

Today's piece is a short play I wrote while at the 2010 Kennedy Center Playwriting Intensive. It was our final assignment. Basically, we had to write a short play where time went backward, there had to be at least three scenes, and a sound had to play a factor. This is what I came up with. Please excuse the poor formatting, blogger's not good with proper play format.

ICE BROTHERS

(Ocean, miles away from land. Stan and Eric struggle in the waves to stay afloat. Stan treads water in large strokes as Eric limply moves his arms and legs. Eric falters, his body begins to sink. Stan grabs him, holds Eric close. He treads now for them both.)

ERIC: Stan, please...

STAN: I’ve got you. Don’t worry.

ERIC: No...you have to... let me go. I’ll kill us both if you keep hold of me.

STAN: I’m not letting you die alone.

(A fog horn blows. The tip of an ice sculpture pokes out from the water. Eric and Stan hold on to it for dear life. They are hugging each other as much as they are the ice mound.)

STAN: I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Eric.

ERIC: It’s okay.

STAN: I didn’t want to die. I was so scared.

ERIC: I told you to leave me. If you hadn’t cut the rope, we both would’ve died.

STAN: But maybe I could have tried harder. Pulled harder. Pulled you up.

ERIC: I was dead weight, we both know it.

STAN: I’m so sorry.

(Stan’s hand slips. Eric grabs it and helps Stan secure his hold on the ice. A fog horn blows. The sculpture pokes out further, it is a large mound now, rising three or four feet out of the water, the tip of a mountain. Stan hugs one side, Eric the other. Their arms overlap.)

ERIC: I don’t think this is going to last much longer.

STAN: It’s melting fast.

ERIC: Think it’s our body heat?

STAN: I don’t know how much I have left.

ERIC: I can’t make it. I don’t think I can make it.

STAN: You can make it.

ERIC: I’m tired. My arms hurt.

STAN: Look at me. You’re going to make it. We are going to make it.

ERIC: I’m scared.

STAN: Someone will find us.

ERIC: This ice is so cold. I just want to let go.

STAN: We have to hold on while we can. Are you a strong swimmer?

ERIC: No.

STAN: Where are all the boats?

ERIC: I don’t want to die.

STAN: No one’s dying. Just hang on.

ERIC: Don’t leave me.

STAN: I won’t. I promise.

(A fog horn blows. The mountain of ice grows. It is now big enough for each man to stand on either side though they still have to hold tight.)

STAN: I want to see Katie.

ERIC: I want a big... hot... pot roast.

STAN: I’m so hungry.

ERIC: Or some soup. I could go for some soup. Anything hot, really.

STAN: This ice is freezing my hands.

ERIC: When we make it back to land, I’m firing my publisher.

STAN: If she’s alive.

ERIC: True. What about stew? Yeah. I want stew. Thick, hot stew.

STAN: Is that what you thought about out there, in the cold? Food?

ERIC: Sometimes.

STAN: I always wondered what went through your head. I always wanted to ask you.

ERIC: I thought about seeing you again.

STAN: To hit me? Kill me?

ERIC: No. I had to make sure you were alive. I damn near froze to death, but I made myself keep moving so I could check on you.

STAN: You wanted me to live?

ERIC: Of course I wanted you to live. You’re my brother.

STAN: And now?

ERIC: I want us both to live.

(Fog horn blows. The ice sculpture rises, it is a large model of Mount Everest. The two men, on either side, are able to stand erect, gripping onto the sculpture, their arms not touching.)

STAN: Why can’t you forgive me?

ERIC: Because you left me. That’s why. You left me to die.

STAN: You told me to leave you. “Cut the rope,” you said. You were hanging, I couldn’t pull you up. We were stuck in the middle of a blizzard at the top of a mountain. If I didn’t leave you and try to get help we both would have died. I left you to get help.

ERIC: You left me. Alone.

STAN: You told me to. I had to. There was no other way.

ERIC: You left me to be frozen, to be eaten. You left me to die.

STAN: What else could I have done?

ERIC: You could have stayed.

STAN: To die with you?

(Pause)

STAN: I found help. I came back. I saved your life. Can’t you forgive me for leaving you in the first place?

ERIC: No.

(Fog horn blows. The sculpture surfaces completely. There is now a long rectangular base of ice beneath the mountain. Eric and Stan sit on either side not facing each other.)

STAN: You okay?

ERIC: No.

STAN: Me either.

ERIC: Don’t care.

STAN: See anyone else?

ERIC: Nope.

STAN: Think they drowned?

ERIC: Don’t know.

STAN: Any boats your way?

ERIC: No.

STAN: None my way either.

(Pause)

STAN: At least we have this (sculpture). I can’t believe your publisher made an ice sculpture of the mountain you almost died on.

ERIC: Funny sense of humor.

STAN: At least she rented a nice yacht.

ERIC: I wanted the party to be at a fancy hotel. She wanted something flashy.

STAN: Sunken yacht should get you a lot of press. It’ll help you sell a lot of books.

ERIC: Maybe.

STAN: When do I get to read the book?

ERIC: Not sure you want to.

STAN: Hey, thanks for inviting me to the party, even if this is how it turned out.

ERIC: I didn’t. My publisher thought it would be good press.

END OF PLAY

Idea Journal

Openclipart.org sheikh_tuhin

Ideas can strike at any time, and usually it's when you don't have a pen handy.  Since I know this, I try to keep a pen on me at all times, usually several.  I also try to keep paper in my purse because I've never liked writing on my hands.  Fail that, I usually have my phone on me and can type a quick note there.  Does it always work?  No.  I am absent minded and I forget my pen and paper from time to time and I almost always forget about the note function on the phone.

When I have an idea and have no pen or forget about my phone, I try to log it in the vast filing cabinet I keep in my brain.  Then I try to make it through my day as best I can without losing the idea to some other, more important idea like "don't forget peas at the grocery store".  If it makes it through the grocery store, the work day, and the ride home (during which many foul things float through my head as yet another jerk risks my life to move over one lane), then it was meant to be.  If it gets lost in the ether, then so be it.  I try to be zen about the whole thing.

Once it's made it through the day okay, I store it in my Idea Journal.  This is a notebook that stays on my desk where I write all the random thoughts that may or may not make it into a story one day.  Since I've given myself the task of posting flash fiction every Friday on the blog, it's become extremely important to have fresh ideas lying about that I can pilfer and then bend to my will.  (Technically, the use of pilfer in that sentence is incorrect since I cannot steal from myself, but I never get to use it and have always wanted to.  It just sounds good.) 

I go through this journal every few months and I'm always surprised by how many ideas there are there, most of them I've forgotten about over time.  It's fun to look back on forgotten gems.  It's also fun to see that the idea that kept me awake for two hours because it was so amazing was actually really awful.

I find the idea journal a great way to catch the manna from heaven that strikes us all.  Once I have it trapped on paper, it's up to me to use it.  Does everyone else do that or do people use other systems?

Happy Hump Day! Rebecca Black and Stephen Colbert

I take writing breaks by surfing the net.  Usually, I land on my blog (narcissism), digg, reddit and stumble.  Early on Saturday morning I was stumbling and found a video of Stephen Colbert and Jimmy Fallon performing "Friday".  I had never actually heard the song itself but had heard about the song and Rebecca Black from being alive.

Having been a huge Colbert fan from back in The Strangers With Candy days, I immediately liked it and then posted it to my Facebook.  I don't actually watch a lot of cable TV.  I watch everything through Netflix, it's just kind of how I roll.  My point is, I don't watch as much of The Colbert Report as I should, so I didn't know the entire back story of the performance.  Thankfully, one of my Facebook friends let me in on the events that led up to this epic performance. 

Below, in order, you will find how this came about, the video of the performance, and Ms. Black's version as well.

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Jimmy Fallon Promises a Performance by Stephen
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor & Satire Blog Video Archive

Brilliant!

So we're clear, I'm no hater.  I wish Ms. Black the best.  I know A LOT of people hate that song and that she got famous for it, but if I could have done that at 13, you bet I would have.  Instead, I was too busy reading and listening to depressing music.