December 2009
19 posts
Here is another part of that screenplay that I was working on. All first draft stuff, but it’s fun to write it again without feeling any of the pressure to make it good.
INT. CAR - MOVING - DAY LARA MARKOV and her soon-to-be husband, MICHAEL FIGGINS, are driving past different billboards that read off the names of various airlines. LARA Look. Aeroflot, Gate B. God I’m nervous. MICHAEL I...
Santa letters aren't all about toys — or manners →
This is pretty funny. And enlightening. Apparently one kid asked to be an elf.
PART 25 Margie ran all the way home in the cold October air. She had certainly been humiliated. She didn’t know how she would be able to face any of her classmates again. The house was quiet when Margie got home. Vivica had still not arrived. Margie took her shoes off right near the door and started to walk up the stairs toward her room. But just as she began walking up the step, her dad appeared...
http://fictionwriting.about.com/b/2009/12/15/decemb... →
http://www.writerswrite.com/blog/1214091 →
Maybe this is proof that any publicity is good publicity?
In the middle of this whole Tiger Woods debacle, this is a strange and interesting little story.
Been writing all day but mainly just notes and things like that for the big story that I’m working on. At one point in the middle of the day, though, a few ideas came into focus for how I should approach re-writing the very first script I ever wrote. I still love that script and I want to keep working on it, but it has been almost a year since I’ve thought about how to make it better....
http://www.lettersofnote.com/ →
Just discovered this site today. Some pretty great things in here. I still have to finish exploring, but towards the bottom of the first page there’s a great letter from J.D. Salinger to a film producer explaining why he so very much resists turning “Catcher In The Rye” into a film.
A lot of the reasons that he gives are really justified. So much of that book is about the...
Some real work was done today. It’s strange how ideas can actually come. They might not always be good ideas, but as long as there’s an image, a kernel of a thought, it can be enough to work off of until you can get to the next piece of the puzzle. So, I’ve finished this one part of the puzzle for today. Here is the rest of Part 24 for better or worse…
PART 24 Margie...
Didn’t get very far today. Damn. I did pretty much everything I could do to avoid writing, including cleaning. I cleaned all sorts of places that I didn’t know could be cleaned.
Too many thoughts about the next step still. But, for the moment, here are two paragraphs that I got out. Now I have to go to work.
PART 24 Margie cleaned up her dishes and did as many things as she could to...
I have taken a little break from writing for today. I need a little time to reflect on the next step, and as much as this blog is a shoot from the hip kind of way for me to put writing down before I have a chance to critique myself too much, the next step this story that I’m writing is critical and I don’t think I can boil all of my thoughts down to one day.
So instead of not writing...
PART 23 The gatekeeper ran over to his computer workstation and pulled up Margaret Morning’s file on his computer. He then pulled up another file on the computer titled, “Consciousness Droplets.” Then using his mouse, he dropped the “Consciousness droplets” file into the Margaret Morning file. A little gurgling sound was made, and then a message came on to the screen saying, “Order complete....
Here’s the full story that was connected to Part 1.
EXT. FRONT YARD - DAY This is someone’s home. It’s a modest home, with light blue plastic paneling, a clean yard with freshly cut grass, and a row of little pansies along the driveway. A few balloons are tied to the mailbox and a large banner hangs over the garage door. Before it’s clear exactly what the banner says, a COUPLE walks into...
This is the first part of another story that I’ve re-written in script form. The formatting doesn’t quite work the same here as it does on my screenwriting software, but for the most part it’s pretty easy to read through.
PART 1
EXT. FRONT YARD - DAY This is someone’s home. It’s a modest home, with light blue plastic paneling, a clean yard with freshly cut grass, and a row of...
PART 22 The gatekeeper was pacing about. He was considering whether or not he should call upon Alice Morning to tell her what was going on with her daughter down below, but he decided against it because he knew that there was nothing she could do and it would only upset her to hear the judge’s harsh words. He sat back down at his desk and went to pick up his pen and paper, but then he stopped. He...
Paul gave his dad a luxurious terrycloth bathrobe, and his dad gave him a watch. It wasn’t a Rolex or Bolex or anything too fancy like that, but it was a decent watch that could tell the time and even the date. “Try it on,” his dad said. Paul smiled up at his dad and rolled up his sleeve. He was already wearing a watch. “Lucy gave me this one,” he said. “Oh. For your…” “My birthday,” Paul...
PART 21 The gatekeeper had spent all morning thinking about how to handle the Margaret Morning situation. The judge had given up on her case and was not taking her seriously. “The girl is in no jeopardy,” he said. But Liliput knew better. After Margaret’s actions earlier that day, he was already beginning to see what was happening, how the situation was forming into a dangerous spiral. The magical...
PART 20 It was just Vivica there when Margie came home. She was in the kitchen with two eggs in either hand standing over a mess of ingredients. “Oh Margie,” she said to her when Margie walked by. Margie didn’t want to attract Vivica’s attention to her book bag considering that it was stuffed with so many valuables, so she quickly tossed it into her room then went back into the kitchen. “Yes?”...
PART 19
Mr. Trotter crossed his arms and leaned back against his desk. “I see that at least you have your instrument today,” he said. “Yes. I do.” “Well,” Mr. Trotter said. Margie stared blankly at him. “It’s a nice instrument. Are you just going to let it sit there or will you play it for us:?” “Oh,” Margie said. Then she looked down at the trumpet. She put the trumpet to her mouth and closed...