Well, this is awkward.

So, it doesn't look like I'm going to be finishing Script Frenzy.

Hold back your tears, it's alright. This just wasn't a good month. I'm leaving in T-minus 10 minutes for a three day weekend full of college visits (!) and I have cheerleading try-outs all of next week (!) and then prom (!!!), so I don't think it's going to get much further. I'm sorry.

BUT, that means that I am now able to free write and research for historical fiction! Huzzah!

Here is a look at the battle plans that hang proudly in my bedroom. My muse, Sir Peter of Whimsy, tends to mosey along whereas I am forced to take the direct route. Have a look! (NaNoWriMo is covered by the zebra print flower my little sister made me. O_O)

I was also going to share a picture of my Victory! poster (featuring a pretty awesome Dalek), but the computer hates me. :(

Easter Coma...

I am in a post-Easter coma. I had a great Triduum, thankyouverymuch, and quite possibly the best Easter ever (except for the part where I got attacked by a deranged kite). But now I am pages and pages and pages behind on my script. Because who spends the hols writing a script, eh? To make matters worse, I have a weekend of college visits coming up, which means I'm going to be horribly off schedule. Gah! And the worst part is, I have no excuse. I spent, like, four hours watching Doctor Who on Monday! Okay, not four hours. It was three. But still!

According to the Script Frenzy website, I need to write 5 pages a day to finish on time. Which really translates to about 7 when you include all of the random days I'm going to have to take off. See, now if I had the TARDIS, we could time travel and we wouldn't have this problem and...

Ahem. Did I mention I'm watching another episode tonight? Livin' life to the fullest.

Furthermore, my noveling keeps distracting me. Let's face it - noveling in my passion. And I think I've come up with my NaNoWriMo plot. I love NaNoWriMo, because I can break out of my normal genre and experiment. And not have to edit! Yippee! But now I'm in over my head with this script and it's kind of hard to ignore the fantastic ideas that are taunting me in the Noveling Corner. Drat!

Okay. The update.

Day #10
Page Count: 17
I don't want to post any of the script because it is truly awful. Good day.

Terrible Twos

Day #2
Page Count: 8
Update: The flowers are still a mystery. James is still a mystery. Lalala! Yesterday, James stepped of the platform and exchanged a few words with a passenger, which didn't go over too well. James isn't one to socialize. Today, he caught a taxi and stopped at a huge white mansion. His mind wandered to the past and his caretakers, Sam and Miriam, who took care of him while he took refuge from the bombing in London. We discovered his father is at the front lines, and met Peter Smith, Jamie's first friend in the small town of Charlotteville. Peter sort of fell out of a tree... that's kind of important. He kind of stuck his head through the window to make his new acquaintance. He's the dangerous type. *flashy smile*

Today, I hit my first roadblock.

I guess that was to be expected, considering I didn't have much planned. Basically, I couldn't figure out where to introduce Peter. I was like - "HULLO. BOY, WHERE YOU AT?" (That was a strange mix of my cockney/British accent, as well as muh Southern twang mixed with gangstah.) Except I didn't say that. I just stared at the screen and thought, "Hmmm. I believe we are at an impasse."

(I tried to find a video of the Dread Pirate Roberts saying that, but to no avail. So here is a photo!)


He's so devilishly handsome. Without the mask... and the stache... trust me. Just... Never mind. *pouts* AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO HATES THE STACHE!?

Also, I realized 5 pages into the script that I had never given any indication of the name of the main character. I'm thinking about leaving it a mystery... maybe just until Peter shows up? *scrambles to write*

Mystery solved. I dub thee Jamie, and thee, Peter Smith. *bows gallantly*

So far, Mission Impossible hasn't been too difficult. I'm not 100% thrilled with some of the scenes and transitions, but it's there. I think I've more or less captured the characters, which means that the script is salvageable. Here's a sample:

InT. JAMES' BEDROOM - DAY - PAST

JAMES is crying at this point. He is sitting on his bed with his things strewn about him. His suitcase sits on the floor - he hasn't bothered to move it yet.

YOUNG BOY (O.c.)(CONT'D)

Hullo.

JAMES looks up abruptly, searching for the voice.

JAMES

(sniffling and trying to wipe away his tears) H-hello?

YOUNG BOY

(popping his head through the window) You're the Londoner, right? The one who's dad's off at the front?

JAMES nods absently.

YOUNG BOY

Thought so. Where's your mum?

JAMES makes no answer. He is back to his surly self.

YOUNG BOY

(understanding) A quiet one, I get it. Back home, I assume. Or is she dead? Dead would be good. Orphans always have the best fun. Don't you read?

JAMES

(half-heartedly) On occasion.

YOUNG BOY

(aghast) I don't. But my father tells me all the stories I need to know. Half of them have orphans.

The YOUNG BOY'S head is still the only visible body part. JAMES realizes this and makes a face.

JAMES

How are you doing that?

YOUNG BOY

What?

JAMES

Your... head.

YoUNG BOY

Tree, silly. Are you daft?

JAMES

(in protest) No.

The YOUNG BOY sticks his hand through the window, with great difficulty. JAMES stares at it, confused.

YOUNG BOY

Name's Peter. Peter Smith, but I like plain Peter. (pause) (waving his hand) Go on, shake it. I don't bite. Unless you bite first... then that's another matter entirely.

JAMES slowly gets up from his bed and reaches for PETER'S hand. They have a good firm handshake like proper English gentlemen and PETER smiles.

PETER

I guess that makes us friends, eh? Think of that. (pause) (whispered) So what's it like living with the old lady, huh? I hear she-

MIRIAM (O.S.)

James? James, is that you making all that noise?

PETER

James, eh? Bit stuffy, isn't it?

JAMES

(indignant) My father's name is James.

PETER

Well, you can't both be James. How about Jamie? Easier to say, easier to remember. Makes you sound a little less stuck-up and whatnot.

MIRIAM

James, I'm coming up right this instant. I still haven't received a full apology, and I will not accept any nonsense.

CREAKING as MIRIAM stomps up the stairs. PETER'S eyes go wide in panic; JAMES even musters a look of concern.

PETER

Blast it. Not again.

JAMES

Again?

PETER

Bye, Jamie. Whatever she does to you, don't tell her I was here. The last time...

JAMES

Last time?

PETER

Forget I said anything. (his face disappears as he shuffles down the tree) If she asks, I...!

A loud CRASH as PETER falls from the tree. The moment doesn't linger long enough for us to catch the aftermath. The look of surprise on JAMIE'S face just barely registers, as does the pounding of MIRIAM'S feet as she rushes to PETER'S rescue.

It reminds me of "Up". I can't help it.

Oh, and all of this material is copyright of yours truly. Sleazy scumbags, keep your grubby little fingers off my baby!!!

Let the Games begin.

But not the Hunger Games, nor the Olympic Games, but the SCRIPT FRENZY GAMES!

DAY ONE OF SCRIPT FRENZY.

Is it so wrong if I'm not freaking out? I wrote just over three pages this morning, and scriptwriting seems considerably easier than noveling. (Please, writers, don't shoot me if you disagree!) But I mean, it's all showing. You can go wherever you want, and as long as you can write good dialogue, you're more or less set. The hardest part is resisting the urge to direct as I write. You're not supposed to be overly descriptive in screenplays, and I have to fight the temptation to describe every single one of the shots or give full character backstory. But so far, the story is unfolding nicely. Here's a sample:

Int. Train

JAMES sits alone inside his car. In his hand, he is holding a small bouquet of wilting flowers. It must be a warm day, because his collar is loose, and the other passengers are fanning themselves. He is frowning and his fellow travelers seem to be more or less avoiding contact.

PASSENGER
(leaning from across the aisle) (to James) Hullo, sir. Fine weather we're having, eh?

JAMES
(flatly) I suppose so, yes.

PASSENGER
Where are you headed?

JAMES
(looking out the window, uninterested) Charlotteville.

PASSENGER
(recognition) Ah, Charlotteville. Quaint little town. Stopped there myself, on occasion. (noticing the bouquet) Going to visit anyone?

JAMES
(pause) Yes.

It's rather flowery, I suppose, but I'm experimenting. Usually I have a sense of what's good and what isn't, but this is uncharted territory! Now the challenge is to get through my last performance of the school musical without passing out from exhaustion (we have to strike set, which means I will be there for an ETERNITY), then do homework and get sleep. Not to mention that it's HOLY WEEK *fanfare* which means I need to really work on squeezing the best outta Lent. Good Friday is usually a humbling experience for me: I swore of any and all technology last year, including music, and because I don't have school, it's usually a quiet atmosphere. I wish you all the best with your Holy Week, and I can tell you personally that I simply cannot wait until Easter.

Happy writing!

The Final Countdown!

Duhduhduhduhhhhhduhduhduhduhduhduhhhh... It's pretty much impossible to convey that song without music. Here.



I didn't realize this had a music video. 80's music... *shudders* Will you just look at their hair!?!?!? What were they thinking!? Still, the song works.

It is, indeed, THE FINAL COUNTDOWN, as we approach the fabled Script Frenzy. I'm kind of terrified because I still only have a beginning and an end. Usually I only have a middle. But I promised y'all an overview of the main characters, so for the good of the order, here 'tis. I can't guarantee they won't change by the end of the script, or that you'll be able to recognize them, or that their names won't change or they won't dye their hair or just magically drop off the face of the planet. It's all tentative, my dears. Tentative.

Enter James or "Jamie". He's numero uno in this story, like it or not, and yes, he's the gent with the flowers. Grown-up Jamie is sort of serious looking. In fact, he's scowling right now. Ah yes, even with those marvelous flowers in hand, he's frowning. I promise you he wasn't always so dowry. In fact, he was once a daydreamer. He could have made a career out of it! Jamie used to be sort of on the scrawny side. Knobby knees, red from the scrapes, and sharp elbows, rough from playing outdoors. His clothes were always a little loose and his face was a bit sunken in. But he had these huge blue eyes... A charming child, really. Very creative. Quite the imagination, and a heart as deep as the ocean. But things have changed. His heart is hard now. But if I were to tell you WHY, then there would be no STORY, now WOULD THERE?

On to Peter. I can't help it - he's a favorite of mine. I know the viewer's sympathies are going to lie with Jamie, but I can't help but love him. Peter's rather oblivious, you see, and can be a little insensitive. He's got a good heart, I promise! He's rather handsome, I might add. It takes a little bit of willpower not to get too wrapped up in writing him. If you were to pass him on the street, he'd probably offer a good-natured smile, a tip of that hat if he happened to wearing one, and perhaps a grand bow if he really felt like getting your attention (if you're a pretty gal, that is). As a child, he was troublesome - always pulling Jamie into things, always talking out of turn and missing the point whenever possible. But he is still very clueless... You have to be rather blunt with him, and Jamie's more the hide-my-feelings-until-I-implode type...

(Now this is the part where you understand the name of the movie.) Meet Elizabeth. Goodness, is she pretty. Fair in every sense of the word, I might add. Nowadays she's rather soft-spoken, but as a child, she always had something to say. She was bossy and controlling, but sweet in a very quiet way. There was this ethereal quality about her - she was so light and elven-like. And she was practically addicted to books. It didn't matter what they were about - math, science, far off kingdoms - just so long as there were plenty of words. She spent so much time looking for adventure... I wonder if she ever found it.

... I think she might be French. We'll see once the writing process actually begins.

So there you are, a brief overview. Rather mysterious, eh? That's because they're all still "mysteries" to me. I can't wait to explore their character! I'll try and post a brief synopsis some time before the Frenzy begins. Until then, farewell.

A Glimpse of the World of "The Elizabethan Era"

This is the part of the writing process where I do nothing, except daydream. This step can last anywhere from a few minutes to a few years. I'm one of those people that has to let my ideas ferment/simmer/etc. before I can even think about dealing with them.

I can't offer you a plot overview of my screenplay, seeing as I haven't written it yet, but I can give you the basic premise. The movie begins with a single young man, getting off of a train, flowers in hand. They're a very specific type of flower. What type of flower, I have yet to decide. But trust me, it matters!!! As he makes his way towards his destination, we get to peer into his past through a series of flashbacks that weave together his story throughout time, all of which leads up to the train, the flowers, and the final conclusion. Oh, and it's set in mid-1900's England... I think... It won't be the most historically accurate film ever, which normally would irk me, but I can't see the story in any other time period.

I promise an overview of the main characters as soon as possible. Until then, I would like to get you in the mooooood. So here it is, the song that inspired the ENTIRE story. Close your eyes and see where it takes you. Leave a comment on what you think might happen in the story. Seeing as I have told you barely anything, there should be plenty of room for imagination. Or, as my literary twin Anne of Green Gables might call it, scope for imagination.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xFoP8QKal_g

I have no idea how to make it show up in this window. Technologically challenged... What can I say?

The next few weeks...

... will be pure insanity.

No, really. I don't know when I'm going to sleep. First, there's school. Then, I have to practice for debate. I have a state competition tomorrow, and I'm unbelievably nervous. And then I have to go to uber long drama rehearsals for South Pacific! (Ensign Janet MacGregor, reporting for duty!)

So where does writing fit into all of this?

That's just it. It doesn't.

Thing is, as of April 1st, it has to. Because I am going to be competing in SCRIPT FRENZY!!! Ladies and gents, I have never conquered a screenplay before. I have zero experience and no qualifications. Just a whole lot of willpower and (hopefully) potential. After editing my Script Frenzy profile about 20 times, I have decided on adapting a short story of mine for the big screen. I had been planning on expanding the story anyhow, and I think it will make for a nice film. The tentative title is (*drumroll*) The Elizabethan Era!!!

Quit wagging your fingers and shaking your heads! The screenplay isn't actually about the Elizabethan era, my pretties! My Summer of Stories companions might recall my little story about a pair of troublesome young boys and their mysterious new friend? The one titled Elizabeth? That's the one! Well, that's where my story shall begin. Brace yourselves for a beautiful story of tragedy, glory, joy, and woe. I will elaborate on the plot in the near future, but for now, the plot remains as much a mystery to me as it does to you. But I know the ending, and it's a real doozy!

I return to the world of writing on April 1st. Fasten your seatbelt, because I can guarantee a bumpy ride.