For my class last month I had to craft a bio for my protagonist and my antagonist. I surprised myself when I realized that I had created the perfect villain months ago while working on my film degree. I just tweaked Quitlove's history a bit and made him younger. Here's what I wrote for Quitlove's bio:
Most people see Alexander Quitlove and don’t think of him as anything more than the face of a money grubbing corporation. But that just isn’t true. Alexander Quitlove went from being the billionaire heir to a successful light store to the President’s own “go-to” guy for private security. But how did he get here? The roots of Quitlove’s story reaches back to the story of Neon City itself.
Most people may not know that the roots of Neon City reach back to the California Gold Rush in 1850. Then it was known as Shimmering Pointe and it was primarily used as a train stop for people passing through looking to make their fortunes. Some people couldn’t afford to move on and they stuck around. The small train stop grew to a small town in no time.
Then in 1898, a discovery was made that would change the course of the town forever: neon. In 1910, neon lights started to hit the market and a young man by the name of Phineas Quitlove jumped on the bandwagon. He quickly made his company the frontrunner in neon sales and he based his headquarters out of Shimmering Pointe. During the Great Depression, Quitlove found himself in the only lucrative business Shimmering Point had. His wealth and income helped moved the town through the hard times and as a show of respect and honor, they renamed the town “Neon City”.
After his passing, the company passed from generation to generation. In the late 50’s the company went to Neville. Neville never lost sight of his grandfather’s neon business but it never suited Neville. He began utilizing facilities for weapons manufacturing. He quickly became one of the leading suppliers of weapons to the United States military.
Neville stepped down from Sinecorp in 1985. Passing the reigns to his son Alexander. Alex was the first of the Quitlove family to really anticipate the pressures of running a company. From an early age, the thought of being in charge of his family’s legacy sent chills of excitement down his spine. He worked hard in high school and he graduated with honors. From there he went on to get a master degree in business. After he got his degree he used his assets to help secure some work with some of the biggest names on the Fortune 500 list. He got many pointers from those that many consider the best of the best in the business world. Alexander would not settle for a weapons contract and some blinking lights. His vision was for a far grander scheme. He would turn his family’s legacy into an empire.
Alexander refocused the Sinecorp research department (lead by famous physicist Doctor Richard Crest) to search for new “anythings”. He assembled a kind of brain trust and gave them an outline stated that anything goes. No idea was too ridiculous, no idea would be thrown out. He wanted everything from paint, to chewing gum, water guns, to galvanized nails. He paid the top thinkers in the world, to think and find out what the public wanted, before they even knew they wanted it.
His anticipatory committee was responsible for many many things, most of those things you all have in your homes now. You may not know it but Sinecorp is one of the leading suppliers of baby powder and washcloths in the United States alone. They broke records last year with toiletry exports to Canada and they are currently in negotiations with China concerning a new beauty product that not only removes wrinkles, and may make scars disappear for good. Because of the patents they’ve acquired over the course of the last 30 years, Alexander Quitlove took a government weapons supplier and turned it into one of the biggest corporations to explode out of the 1980’s.
It hasn’t been all rainbows and ponies for Alexander Quitlove though. After a very public falling out between himself and Dr. Crest, Quitlove had to re-focus his efforts a bit. It appeared that Dr. Crest may have come up with quite a bit of the patents himself and he felt that he wasn’t getting the recognition he was owed. After a lawsuit was settled out of court, Dr. Crest and his wife went on to work in the private sector. Five years ago while on vacation, Dr. Crest and his wife died in a car accident. They left behind a daughter named Jessica who is serving her country now in the United States Army.
After the debacle with Dr. Crest, Quitlove started a personal security force. They worked like Sinecorp’s own personal police force and it’s nothing unheard of in the corporate world. The only difference was that Quitlove’s police force seemed to be more dedicated, more intense. There were rumblings concerning an unconfirmed attempt at a robbery in one of Sinecorp’s warehouses. His security force was rumored to have swept in with military precision and not only non-lethally take out the would be robbers, but they repaired all the damage, swept up, and turned the lights off on their way out.
It’s unsure if this event may or may not have been the catalyst but two years ago, the President of the United States did something unheard of. He relieved his normal Marine Corps guard of duty and hired Sinecorp’s private security to watch over him full time. This caused quite a bit of controversy as I’m sure most of our readers will be well aware. Regardless of how we feel about it, that’s the way things are now.
Alexander Quitlove is not just another face on a company. He’s not another figurehead for capitalism. Quitlove is a calculating genius. He’s been trained by the best minds to be one of the most savvy businessmen of our time. He’s stepped out of his father’s shadow and into his father’s shoes. He’s become the man his family always wished he could be. And he’s the model for every business owner out there. He may have made himself the most powerful man in the nation. And there’s nothing we can do to stop him now.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Crestfall Bio
For my class last month I had to craft a bio for my protagonist and my antagonist. Here's what I wrote for Crestfall:
Jessica Crest grew up in the 80’s. If you were to ask her, she’d tell you that there were no real anomalies or abnormalities with her upbringing and she wouldn’t be wrong in saying so. Her father was a leading research scientist for Sinecorp in the sprawling metropolis of Neon City.
Sinecorp was the premiere pharmaceutical research corporation in the world during the 80’s, and the research that Richard Crest brought to the table proved invaluable. Richard’s foremost field of study was the effects different chemicals had on rats in a controlled environment. His study went into cosmetics, paint, and even some electrical equipment. His knowledge helped Sinecorp grow from a reputable science lab, to a heavy competitor in the corporate business world.
Jessica’s mother, Kelly, was also a scientist who’s knowledge rivaled that of her husband. She’d backed out of research full time to focus on raising Jessica. She would do some independent consulting for smaller clients from time to time, and she would help Richard on some projects until he made one of his “breakthroughs”.
They weren’t the Rockwellian picture of the perfect American family, but they loved each other very much and they figured that, in many ways, was better for them.
Jessica did very well in elementary school. She was polite to the teachers, made friends quickly, and always managed to get her homework done. She got along with almost everyone, except the bullies.
Jessica didn’t like it when the bigger kids, like Jimmy McMillon, pushed around the smaller ones. It never seemed fair to her. One day, she’d decided that she’d had enough.
Jimmy was picking on a young boy far smaller than Jimmy himself. Jimmy demanded all of the money the young boy had. Through a stream of tears, the boy explained that he had no money to give to Jimmy, so Jimmy knocked the boy to the ground and dumped a bag of garbage on him.
Jimmy turned around, clearly pleased with himself, and saw Jessica standing in front of him. He smiled a coy smile.
“What? Did you want a piece of this?” He asked her.
She said nothing, she just stepped up to him and punched him in the crotch. Jimmy fell over in tears. Jessica helped the young boy to his feet and brushed him off. She never spoke of this to anyone.
When she was about 15 years old, her father lost his job. He never spoke of it and she never got any real details. It confused her. She knew her father loved his job and he made good money. He was fairly reputable in his field too. She couldn’t understand how anyone would let a wonderful man like her father go.
Richard and Kelly began taking on more independent work. They would study the effects of chemicals and fumes on rats and mice and other small rodents in the lab they had built in their basement.
On a day that Jessica would always remember, a man in a black suit came to the door. Strangers were often coming to visit her parents and she never really thought about it. But this man seemed different. His shoes were polished, and his shirt was pressed. His bow tie was a bright against the black of the suit. He wore extremely dark aviator sunglasses and the way he towered over her made her feel smaller than she had ever felt in her life. When her father saw the man he barked at her to go into her room and stay there.
Her father and the man argued for a long time. She couldn’t hear the specifics but every now and then she catch certain key words like “personal policy”, “not that kind of research”, and “weapons”. She was no genius but she put the pieces together fairly quickly. This man was trying to hire her father for some kind of weapons research and her father would have nothing of it. She smiled. Her father would always be around to protect her.
The next morning her father busted into her room and told her they were going to visit her grandparents. She was startled, but she was excited to see them. She grabbed a suitcase and started packing some items. Her father stopped her and told her to only grab a few things. He ushered Jessica and Kelly out to the car and drove to the countryside to visit his parents. Neither of her parents spoke on the car ride and that made Jessica uncomfortable, but she knew she could trust her parents to protect her.
Her grandmother greeted Jessica with a big hug and a freshly baked cookie. Jessica ran inside to eat a few more.
When she was inside, Richard gave his mother a kiss on the forehead. She was crying but promised to stay strong for Jessica. He thanked her for watching his little girl then he and his wife got back in the car and drove away. They didn’t say “goodbye”.
Jessica was heartbroken. She didn’t understand why her parents had left her behind. She was old enough to understand, wasn’t she? Her grandparents calmed her down and they played board games into the evening. Her grandmother answered a phone call late into the evening. She gave out a startled gasp and ran to the living room. She turned on the TV.
On the local news station, there was footage of a car on fire, plumes of smoke billowing up through the sunroof. The ticker along the bottom of the screen proclaimed that a loud explosion was heard just minutes ago. Now this car was on fire. There appeared to be two unidentified people inside the car and the police would keep them updated as often as they could.
The car belonged to Richard and Kelly Crest.
It took Jessica a while to get over the death of her parents. She focused all of energy into her studies and she graduated high school at the top of her class. When she turned 18, she went to the Army recruiting station and signed up for Explosive Ordinance Disposal. That’s when her life really changed.
Jessica Crest grew up in the 80’s. If you were to ask her, she’d tell you that there were no real anomalies or abnormalities with her upbringing and she wouldn’t be wrong in saying so. Her father was a leading research scientist for Sinecorp in the sprawling metropolis of Neon City.
Sinecorp was the premiere pharmaceutical research corporation in the world during the 80’s, and the research that Richard Crest brought to the table proved invaluable. Richard’s foremost field of study was the effects different chemicals had on rats in a controlled environment. His study went into cosmetics, paint, and even some electrical equipment. His knowledge helped Sinecorp grow from a reputable science lab, to a heavy competitor in the corporate business world.
Jessica’s mother, Kelly, was also a scientist who’s knowledge rivaled that of her husband. She’d backed out of research full time to focus on raising Jessica. She would do some independent consulting for smaller clients from time to time, and she would help Richard on some projects until he made one of his “breakthroughs”.
They weren’t the Rockwellian picture of the perfect American family, but they loved each other very much and they figured that, in many ways, was better for them.
Jessica did very well in elementary school. She was polite to the teachers, made friends quickly, and always managed to get her homework done. She got along with almost everyone, except the bullies.
Jessica didn’t like it when the bigger kids, like Jimmy McMillon, pushed around the smaller ones. It never seemed fair to her. One day, she’d decided that she’d had enough.
Jimmy was picking on a young boy far smaller than Jimmy himself. Jimmy demanded all of the money the young boy had. Through a stream of tears, the boy explained that he had no money to give to Jimmy, so Jimmy knocked the boy to the ground and dumped a bag of garbage on him.
Jimmy turned around, clearly pleased with himself, and saw Jessica standing in front of him. He smiled a coy smile.
“What? Did you want a piece of this?” He asked her.
She said nothing, she just stepped up to him and punched him in the crotch. Jimmy fell over in tears. Jessica helped the young boy to his feet and brushed him off. She never spoke of this to anyone.
When she was about 15 years old, her father lost his job. He never spoke of it and she never got any real details. It confused her. She knew her father loved his job and he made good money. He was fairly reputable in his field too. She couldn’t understand how anyone would let a wonderful man like her father go.
Richard and Kelly began taking on more independent work. They would study the effects of chemicals and fumes on rats and mice and other small rodents in the lab they had built in their basement.
On a day that Jessica would always remember, a man in a black suit came to the door. Strangers were often coming to visit her parents and she never really thought about it. But this man seemed different. His shoes were polished, and his shirt was pressed. His bow tie was a bright against the black of the suit. He wore extremely dark aviator sunglasses and the way he towered over her made her feel smaller than she had ever felt in her life. When her father saw the man he barked at her to go into her room and stay there.
Her father and the man argued for a long time. She couldn’t hear the specifics but every now and then she catch certain key words like “personal policy”, “not that kind of research”, and “weapons”. She was no genius but she put the pieces together fairly quickly. This man was trying to hire her father for some kind of weapons research and her father would have nothing of it. She smiled. Her father would always be around to protect her.
The next morning her father busted into her room and told her they were going to visit her grandparents. She was startled, but she was excited to see them. She grabbed a suitcase and started packing some items. Her father stopped her and told her to only grab a few things. He ushered Jessica and Kelly out to the car and drove to the countryside to visit his parents. Neither of her parents spoke on the car ride and that made Jessica uncomfortable, but she knew she could trust her parents to protect her.
Her grandmother greeted Jessica with a big hug and a freshly baked cookie. Jessica ran inside to eat a few more.
When she was inside, Richard gave his mother a kiss on the forehead. She was crying but promised to stay strong for Jessica. He thanked her for watching his little girl then he and his wife got back in the car and drove away. They didn’t say “goodbye”.
Jessica was heartbroken. She didn’t understand why her parents had left her behind. She was old enough to understand, wasn’t she? Her grandparents calmed her down and they played board games into the evening. Her grandmother answered a phone call late into the evening. She gave out a startled gasp and ran to the living room. She turned on the TV.
On the local news station, there was footage of a car on fire, plumes of smoke billowing up through the sunroof. The ticker along the bottom of the screen proclaimed that a loud explosion was heard just minutes ago. Now this car was on fire. There appeared to be two unidentified people inside the car and the police would keep them updated as often as they could.
The car belonged to Richard and Kelly Crest.
It took Jessica a while to get over the death of her parents. She focused all of energy into her studies and she graduated high school at the top of her class. When she turned 18, she went to the Army recruiting station and signed up for Explosive Ordinance Disposal. That’s when her life really changed.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Crestfall Description
My assignment this week was to write a description of Crestfall in the format of my thesis.
Here it is.
Crestfall Description:
PAGE 1 (FOUR PANELS)
Page 1, Panel 1.
A wide panel. An extreme close up side shot of Crestfall’s face. She’s got a grey hood that reaches down to the middle of her forehead, her cropped brown hair hangs down intently above her eyebrows. Her attention is focused straight ahead.
CAPTION 1:
This is her city.
Page 1, Panel 2.
A wide panel. A straight ECU on her eyes. They are intense. Her irises are purple. She’s squinting in an almost Clint Eastwood-like manner.
CAPTION 2:
This is her calling.
Page 1, Panel 3.
A wide panel. A close up of her back. Her grey hoodie has two holes in the shoulder blades that have been cut out to make room for two massive angel-like wings. The only difference is that Crestfall’s wings are red.
SFX 1:
AAAAHHHHHHH
CAPTION 3:
Neon City sings her song.
Page 1, Panel 4.
A wide panel ECU on her mouth. She gives a toothy grin. Her teeth are straight and perfect. Her grin isn’t sinister, but anxious.
CAPTION 4:
This is her passion.
PAGES 2 AND 3 (DOUBLE SPLASH PAGE)
Pages 2 and 3 (no panels)
A double splash page from the streets looking straight up. Crestfall has leapt into the air. Her wings spread. It’s night time in Neon City and the moon is positioned directly behind her giving her a “bat signal” kind of outline. The tall skyscrapers have multi colored neon piping going down the sides of them, many buildings have neon ads on the roof.
CAPTION 1:
This isn’t the story of how Crestfall came to be.
CAPTION 2:
This is a love story.
CAPTION 3:
A love story between a woman and her city.
PAGE 4 (5 PANELS)
Page 4, Panel 1
Normal panel with gang members crowded around a woman who clutches her purse.
CAPTION 1:
This is her home.
Page 4, Panel 2
Normal panel. Crestfall is behind them. You can see her in full frame. Her grey hoodie and sweatpants cover a low tech jumpsuit. She stands at about 5 foot 7 and has a small frame. Her wingspan is impressive (I leave that to the artist). She has no weapons.
CAPTION 2:
Time to take out the garbage.
Page 4, Panel 3
A wide panel. Crestfall is leaning forward, she reaches forward with her wings and knocks out a gang member with the force.
SFX 1:
THWACK!
Page 4, Panel 4
Normal panel. Crestfall’s fist is buried in a gang member’s face.
SFX 2:
CRUNCH!
Page 4, Panel 5
Normal panel. Her foot connects with another gang member’s crotch.
SFX 3:
SNAP!
PAGE 5 (FOUR PANELS)
Page 5, Panel 1
Wide panel. Crestfall stands in the alley, the gang members at her feet. The woman is a corner still clutching her purse. Tears fall down her face. At the end of the alley, red and blue lights paint the walls.
CAPTION 1:
She loves her city.
Page 5, Panel 2
Normal panel. Crestfall reaches down towards the woman’s outstretched hand.
Page 5, Panel 3
Normal panel, Crestfall stands face to face with a female police officer.
CAPTION 2:
She’ll do anything she has to in order to protect it...
Page 5, Panel 4
The panel fills the rest of the page. Crestfall and the police officer shake hands.
CAPTION 3:
...and Neon City loves her in return.
Here it is.
Crestfall Description:
PAGE 1 (FOUR PANELS)
Page 1, Panel 1.
A wide panel. An extreme close up side shot of Crestfall’s face. She’s got a grey hood that reaches down to the middle of her forehead, her cropped brown hair hangs down intently above her eyebrows. Her attention is focused straight ahead.
CAPTION 1:
This is her city.
Page 1, Panel 2.
A wide panel. A straight ECU on her eyes. They are intense. Her irises are purple. She’s squinting in an almost Clint Eastwood-like manner.
CAPTION 2:
This is her calling.
Page 1, Panel 3.
A wide panel. A close up of her back. Her grey hoodie has two holes in the shoulder blades that have been cut out to make room for two massive angel-like wings. The only difference is that Crestfall’s wings are red.
SFX 1:
AAAAHHHHHHH
CAPTION 3:
Neon City sings her song.
Page 1, Panel 4.
A wide panel ECU on her mouth. She gives a toothy grin. Her teeth are straight and perfect. Her grin isn’t sinister, but anxious.
CAPTION 4:
This is her passion.
PAGES 2 AND 3 (DOUBLE SPLASH PAGE)
Pages 2 and 3 (no panels)
A double splash page from the streets looking straight up. Crestfall has leapt into the air. Her wings spread. It’s night time in Neon City and the moon is positioned directly behind her giving her a “bat signal” kind of outline. The tall skyscrapers have multi colored neon piping going down the sides of them, many buildings have neon ads on the roof.
CAPTION 1:
This isn’t the story of how Crestfall came to be.
CAPTION 2:
This is a love story.
CAPTION 3:
A love story between a woman and her city.
PAGE 4 (5 PANELS)
Page 4, Panel 1
Normal panel with gang members crowded around a woman who clutches her purse.
CAPTION 1:
This is her home.
Page 4, Panel 2
Normal panel. Crestfall is behind them. You can see her in full frame. Her grey hoodie and sweatpants cover a low tech jumpsuit. She stands at about 5 foot 7 and has a small frame. Her wingspan is impressive (I leave that to the artist). She has no weapons.
CAPTION 2:
Time to take out the garbage.
Page 4, Panel 3
A wide panel. Crestfall is leaning forward, she reaches forward with her wings and knocks out a gang member with the force.
SFX 1:
THWACK!
Page 4, Panel 4
Normal panel. Crestfall’s fist is buried in a gang member’s face.
SFX 2:
CRUNCH!
Page 4, Panel 5
Normal panel. Her foot connects with another gang member’s crotch.
SFX 3:
SNAP!
PAGE 5 (FOUR PANELS)
Page 5, Panel 1
Wide panel. Crestfall stands in the alley, the gang members at her feet. The woman is a corner still clutching her purse. Tears fall down her face. At the end of the alley, red and blue lights paint the walls.
CAPTION 1:
She loves her city.
Page 5, Panel 2
Normal panel. Crestfall reaches down towards the woman’s outstretched hand.
Page 5, Panel 3
Normal panel, Crestfall stands face to face with a female police officer.
CAPTION 2:
She’ll do anything she has to in order to protect it...
Page 5, Panel 4
The panel fills the rest of the page. Crestfall and the police officer shake hands.
CAPTION 3:
...and Neon City loves her in return.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Grumble
(this is a more fleshed out version of a rant I’ve been diving into lately)
Let’s do something new. I’m going to talk about me for a while! This is why you came here right?
I’m a wreck. Complete and total. Always have been. It’s not going to change.
Anyone who knows me will tell you that I keep complaining about being tired. I sleep. A lot. It doesn’t help. I’m not really physically tired. I’m just drained. I’ve gone through so many extremely high ups followed by so many extremely low downs that I can’t even process anything properly. I need the world to stop for a couple dozen years.
One of the things that makes me a passible writer is (I believe) the passion that goes into my writing. (More so my fiction than my blogging but this one is pretty passionate so I guess we’ll see what happens.) In my stories when I write a character, I embody that character. I feel what they feel. I experience their lives as I clickity-clack away on my keyboard. It gets to the point where I don’t even think about the words I just experience the story. It’s a great emotional ride for me and I hope it comes across in my words.
I mention this because it’s not something that exists solely on paper for me. It’s something I experience (until recently to far smaller extent) on a daily basis. When I talk to someone, scratch that, when I talk to ANYONE, I think about every possible branch that conversation could go WHILE in the middle of that conversation (which is why I’m prone to interrupting, which I’m trying to quell).
Here’s what that means: Let’s say you, Dear Reader, are my boss and you call me in to your office. I’m cool with that up until the walk TO your office. On the walk to the office I go through a variety of interactions (I’m sure many other people do this as well), wherein I’m applauded for my efforts, or scolded for some terrible deed I had committed but was unaware of… *had I said something offensive to a guest? Did I look at a girl wrong and now I’m getting fired? Am I getting fired? I need to find a job! How can I pay for rent if I don’t have a job? If the internet goes out because I can’t pay the bill how am I going to finish my classes? What happens if I don’t finish my classes? Is this as far as I can go in life? Am I stuck now? Am I getting a promotion? I could use some extra money. What if the responsibilities of my job interfere with schoolwork? Am I stuck here? Is this as far as I can go? Should I quit? What happens if I quit?*
It’s exhausting.
Every text message is like that with me too.
*Oh awesome it’s her! I wonder what she wants. I hope she’s not irritated with me, why would she be irritated? Oh crap, let me retrace my steps a few days and overanalyze everything.*
That’s before I even open the message.
*Crap. What did she mean by that? How do I respond? Should I be sarcastic? How do I play this off? Should I play this off? Do I have a chance? Should I be asking that? If there’s a chance should I pursue it? If I pursue it is a no worth the price of a yes?*
It used to be that stuff like that was an underpinning to my day. Almost like a sixth sense that I had learned to deal with. Now it’s taken the forefront of my thought. My life is like a “choose your own adventure” book, only when you turn to page 81 for “turn left” you can’t go back to the previous page to see what happens if you turn right instead. I feel like there’s some shrouded figure hanging over me that mocks my decisions and slams me down as I poke my head up.
Nighttime is the worst. During the day I have distractions and things to occupy my brain. At night there’s nothing but me and the darkness. My brain spins in a sea of “what ifs” and “oh craps”. I remember things I forgot to say, genius comebacks, the perfect pick up line.
Every girl I’ve ever talked to (hi ladies, this just got awkward… I’m kidding, you’re not reading this) has lived vastly different lives in my head. I’ve been married to and banned from talking to every girl ever. From my elementary school crush to Kristen Bell and Olvia Wilde. (Let’s just play it safe, just in case.)
So yeah, I’m going to go back to the darkness now. I’m going to listen to Emery and try not to go stir crazy.
Lesson Over.
Let’s do something new. I’m going to talk about me for a while! This is why you came here right?
I’m a wreck. Complete and total. Always have been. It’s not going to change.
Anyone who knows me will tell you that I keep complaining about being tired. I sleep. A lot. It doesn’t help. I’m not really physically tired. I’m just drained. I’ve gone through so many extremely high ups followed by so many extremely low downs that I can’t even process anything properly. I need the world to stop for a couple dozen years.
One of the things that makes me a passible writer is (I believe) the passion that goes into my writing. (More so my fiction than my blogging but this one is pretty passionate so I guess we’ll see what happens.) In my stories when I write a character, I embody that character. I feel what they feel. I experience their lives as I clickity-clack away on my keyboard. It gets to the point where I don’t even think about the words I just experience the story. It’s a great emotional ride for me and I hope it comes across in my words.
I mention this because it’s not something that exists solely on paper for me. It’s something I experience (until recently to far smaller extent) on a daily basis. When I talk to someone, scratch that, when I talk to ANYONE, I think about every possible branch that conversation could go WHILE in the middle of that conversation (which is why I’m prone to interrupting, which I’m trying to quell).
Here’s what that means: Let’s say you, Dear Reader, are my boss and you call me in to your office. I’m cool with that up until the walk TO your office. On the walk to the office I go through a variety of interactions (I’m sure many other people do this as well), wherein I’m applauded for my efforts, or scolded for some terrible deed I had committed but was unaware of… *had I said something offensive to a guest? Did I look at a girl wrong and now I’m getting fired? Am I getting fired? I need to find a job! How can I pay for rent if I don’t have a job? If the internet goes out because I can’t pay the bill how am I going to finish my classes? What happens if I don’t finish my classes? Is this as far as I can go in life? Am I stuck now? Am I getting a promotion? I could use some extra money. What if the responsibilities of my job interfere with schoolwork? Am I stuck here? Is this as far as I can go? Should I quit? What happens if I quit?*
It’s exhausting.
Every text message is like that with me too.
*Oh awesome it’s her! I wonder what she wants. I hope she’s not irritated with me, why would she be irritated? Oh crap, let me retrace my steps a few days and overanalyze everything.*
That’s before I even open the message.
*Crap. What did she mean by that? How do I respond? Should I be sarcastic? How do I play this off? Should I play this off? Do I have a chance? Should I be asking that? If there’s a chance should I pursue it? If I pursue it is a no worth the price of a yes?*
It used to be that stuff like that was an underpinning to my day. Almost like a sixth sense that I had learned to deal with. Now it’s taken the forefront of my thought. My life is like a “choose your own adventure” book, only when you turn to page 81 for “turn left” you can’t go back to the previous page to see what happens if you turn right instead. I feel like there’s some shrouded figure hanging over me that mocks my decisions and slams me down as I poke my head up.
Nighttime is the worst. During the day I have distractions and things to occupy my brain. At night there’s nothing but me and the darkness. My brain spins in a sea of “what ifs” and “oh craps”. I remember things I forgot to say, genius comebacks, the perfect pick up line.
Every girl I’ve ever talked to (hi ladies, this just got awkward… I’m kidding, you’re not reading this) has lived vastly different lives in my head. I’ve been married to and banned from talking to every girl ever. From my elementary school crush to Kristen Bell and Olvia Wilde. (Let’s just play it safe, just in case.)
So yeah, I’m going to go back to the darkness now. I’m going to listen to Emery and try not to go stir crazy.
Lesson Over.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Two Worlds
I wrote "Two Worlds" as a whole for one of my film classes. I butchered it to tiny pieces and re-created my female lead for this. Also in class all of the scripts had a five page limit. So here's my second take on "Two Worlds".
(Check out 'Loglines' to see the origins of this take of the story)
(OVER BLACK)
PROFESSOR NEAL (V.O.)
There are two worlds. The world you know and the world you think you know.
TIRES SCREECH and there’s a CRASH. SIRENS grow louder. Light begins to appear as there are glimpses of doctors around a gurney. Time moves forward through the hazy jumble of sirens and emergency personnel. Then silence.
FADE IN
INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAYTIME.
The hospital room is a sterile, generic one. The TV is on in the corner with what sounds like a sermon. VANESSA (between 20 and 30)sleeps in the bed which is attached to a heart monitor that BEEPS periodically.
Vanessa groggily opens her eyes not entirely aware of her surroundings. Her eyes land on the TV where PROFESSOR THOMAS NEAL (around 50) is speaking. He’s holding up a book he’s written called Two Worlds.
PROFESSOR NEAL
You’re all familiar, I’m sure with the concept of angels and demons. How these forces of good and evil are at war over your very soul.
APPLAUSE bursts through the crowd.
PROFESSOR NEAL (CONT’D)
That’s only half true. They are at war and it IS for your soul, but not one side is looking after your well being. They are simply; hungry. There are Two Worlds...
The TV shuts off. NURSE KELLY (30 or 40) stands over Vanessa.
NURSE KELLY
You don’t need to listen to that garbage. You just woke up from a well deserved nap.
Nurse Kelly picks up a clipboard and examines Vanessa.
EXT. PARK - DUSK - 3 WEEKS LATER.
Vanessa hobbles a bit as she walks. Every shadow seems to stretch out at her from the corner of her eyes. She thinks back to Professor Neal’s broadcast.
PROFESSOR NEAL (V.O.)
Angles... demons... two worlds.
As the wind picks up, she notices there aren’t many people in the park at all except for one ELDERLY WOMAN. The woman sits on a bench next a dimly illuminated lamp post crocheting what look like small wings.
Vanessa’s pace quickens as her heart beats faster. The woman looks up from her project, her eyes seem red in the fading sunlight. She MUMBLES something, her scratchy voice scrapes Vanessa’s ears. Vanessa blinks back tears as she makes her way past the woman.
The woman jumps from her bench and yells at Vanessa. Her voice has a deep, other-worldly quality to it.
WOMAN
Girly! Aren’t you going to even acknowledge your betters?
Vanessa can’t fight the tears the pour down her cheeks. The world seems pitch black now, save the light that illuminates the woman, and her red eyes.
WOMAN (CONT’D)
Your rude ignorance has sealed you fate girl! Dinner will be served shortly!
The woman cackles loudly. Vanessa falls to her knees, eyes clenched, hands over her ears. A hand falls on her shoulder and she SCREAMS. Her eyes open and she sees that she’s surrounded by many people in the park.
The bench is empty.
INT. VANESSA’S LIVING ROOM - THE NEXT DAY
Vanessa’s hair is frazzled, she hasn’t slept. Her makeup is smeared and she’s frantic. She’s on the phone with SUE (20’s).
VANESSA
I know I sound crazy I know it. I think something happened to me during the accident.
SUE (V.O.)
What? Like you can see demons now?
VANESSA
It would be great if I could just see them, but they talk to me.
SUE (V.O.)
They talk to you? Honey, are you sure you’re okay?
VANESSA
I am absolutely not okay Sue! Not at all. When I woke up there was a man on TV talking about angels and demons and soul eating. He said there was something about another world existing with ours...
SUE (V.O.)
Are you talking about that Neal guy? Sweetie he’s a loon! I understand you’re freaked out and I believe you when you say you saw something but I can assure you that no one is going to try to eat your soul. Especially not a demon and definitely not an angel.
Vanessa sits on her couch. She takes a couple breaths and calms herself down.
VANESSA
You’re right. I’m overreacting a bit. Would you do me a favor though? Would you come to the park with me? Just to get some sense of closure?
SUE (V.O.)
Absolutely babe. Get yourself cleaned up and I’ll come get you in an hour.
Vanessa hangs up and takes a deep breath. She allows herself a smile as she glances down at her coffee table.
Her eyes grow in horror as she leans forward and picks up a crocheted pair of wings that were remarkably close to the ones the old woman was knitting the night before.
EXT. PARK - LATER THAT SAME DAY
Vanessa and Sue are walking the same route Vanessa took. They stop at the bench. The sun shines brightly in the sky but clouds seem to begin to roll in out of nowhere. No one else is in the park.
SUE
The scariest thing about this bench is that it needs a new coat of paint.
Vanessa walks around the bench, examining it.
VANESSA
It just seemed too vivid to be in my imagination.
Vanessa curiously touches the lamp post and it lights up. This prompts a startled scream from Vanessa.
SUE
Okay Vee, let’s get you home.
A HOODED FIGURE dressed in grey appears behind Sue and pushes her down. Vanessa looks on horrified. As the hooded figure crouches over Sue’s body making DISTURBING NOISES. Vanessa cranks her head away and buries her face in her hands, sobbing.
Sue’s body twitches on final time as the hooded figure rises and turns towards Vanessa. It’s face is shaded from view by the hood, all that’s visible is two glowing red eyes.
Vanessa attempts a scream but nothing happens. They sky becomes dark as clouds roll in. Lightning cracks through the sky with every step the hooded figure takes.
VANESSA (EXHAUSTED)
Okay, if this is some kind of joke it’s really not funny.
The hooded figure does not quicken his pace but casually moves forward.
VANESSA (CONT’D)
Okay... ha ha. I get it. Real funny guys. Okay Sue I’m sorry I made such a big deal out of everything.
The figure hisses and lunges at Vanessa. She screams.
INT. VANESSA’S BEDROOM - MORNING
Vanessa’s phone is ringing. She gasps sitting bolt upright and scrambles for her phone.
VANESSA
Hello?
SUE (V.O.)
Hey lady! Just checking up on you. Wanted to make sure everything was alright.
VANESSA
Yeah... everything is alright. Just had another nightmare. Nothing to worry about, I’m sure they’ll pass.
SUE (V.O.)
It’s been a couple weeks now. Maybe you should let the doctors know.
VANESSA
Yeah I have an appointment tomorrow. I’m sure it’s nothing.
SUE (V.O.)
Go for a walk in the park or something... oh shoot. Honey I have to go. Call me later.
Vanessa hangs up the phone and stars at the ceiling. She rolls on her side and is face to face with the old woman.
WOMAN
Good morning sunshine!
The woman lunges at Vanessa.
Fade Out.
PROFESSOR NEAL (V.O.)
There are two worlds. The world you know and the world you think you know.
End.
(Check out 'Loglines' to see the origins of this take of the story)
(OVER BLACK)
PROFESSOR NEAL (V.O.)
There are two worlds. The world you know and the world you think you know.
TIRES SCREECH and there’s a CRASH. SIRENS grow louder. Light begins to appear as there are glimpses of doctors around a gurney. Time moves forward through the hazy jumble of sirens and emergency personnel. Then silence.
FADE IN
INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAYTIME.
The hospital room is a sterile, generic one. The TV is on in the corner with what sounds like a sermon. VANESSA (between 20 and 30)sleeps in the bed which is attached to a heart monitor that BEEPS periodically.
Vanessa groggily opens her eyes not entirely aware of her surroundings. Her eyes land on the TV where PROFESSOR THOMAS NEAL (around 50) is speaking. He’s holding up a book he’s written called Two Worlds.
PROFESSOR NEAL
You’re all familiar, I’m sure with the concept of angels and demons. How these forces of good and evil are at war over your very soul.
APPLAUSE bursts through the crowd.
PROFESSOR NEAL (CONT’D)
That’s only half true. They are at war and it IS for your soul, but not one side is looking after your well being. They are simply; hungry. There are Two Worlds...
The TV shuts off. NURSE KELLY (30 or 40) stands over Vanessa.
NURSE KELLY
You don’t need to listen to that garbage. You just woke up from a well deserved nap.
Nurse Kelly picks up a clipboard and examines Vanessa.
EXT. PARK - DUSK - 3 WEEKS LATER.
Vanessa hobbles a bit as she walks. Every shadow seems to stretch out at her from the corner of her eyes. She thinks back to Professor Neal’s broadcast.
PROFESSOR NEAL (V.O.)
Angles... demons... two worlds.
As the wind picks up, she notices there aren’t many people in the park at all except for one ELDERLY WOMAN. The woman sits on a bench next a dimly illuminated lamp post crocheting what look like small wings.
Vanessa’s pace quickens as her heart beats faster. The woman looks up from her project, her eyes seem red in the fading sunlight. She MUMBLES something, her scratchy voice scrapes Vanessa’s ears. Vanessa blinks back tears as she makes her way past the woman.
The woman jumps from her bench and yells at Vanessa. Her voice has a deep, other-worldly quality to it.
WOMAN
Girly! Aren’t you going to even acknowledge your betters?
Vanessa can’t fight the tears the pour down her cheeks. The world seems pitch black now, save the light that illuminates the woman, and her red eyes.
WOMAN (CONT’D)
Your rude ignorance has sealed you fate girl! Dinner will be served shortly!
The woman cackles loudly. Vanessa falls to her knees, eyes clenched, hands over her ears. A hand falls on her shoulder and she SCREAMS. Her eyes open and she sees that she’s surrounded by many people in the park.
The bench is empty.
INT. VANESSA’S LIVING ROOM - THE NEXT DAY
Vanessa’s hair is frazzled, she hasn’t slept. Her makeup is smeared and she’s frantic. She’s on the phone with SUE (20’s).
VANESSA
I know I sound crazy I know it. I think something happened to me during the accident.
SUE (V.O.)
What? Like you can see demons now?
VANESSA
It would be great if I could just see them, but they talk to me.
SUE (V.O.)
They talk to you? Honey, are you sure you’re okay?
VANESSA
I am absolutely not okay Sue! Not at all. When I woke up there was a man on TV talking about angels and demons and soul eating. He said there was something about another world existing with ours...
SUE (V.O.)
Are you talking about that Neal guy? Sweetie he’s a loon! I understand you’re freaked out and I believe you when you say you saw something but I can assure you that no one is going to try to eat your soul. Especially not a demon and definitely not an angel.
Vanessa sits on her couch. She takes a couple breaths and calms herself down.
VANESSA
You’re right. I’m overreacting a bit. Would you do me a favor though? Would you come to the park with me? Just to get some sense of closure?
SUE (V.O.)
Absolutely babe. Get yourself cleaned up and I’ll come get you in an hour.
Vanessa hangs up and takes a deep breath. She allows herself a smile as she glances down at her coffee table.
Her eyes grow in horror as she leans forward and picks up a crocheted pair of wings that were remarkably close to the ones the old woman was knitting the night before.
EXT. PARK - LATER THAT SAME DAY
Vanessa and Sue are walking the same route Vanessa took. They stop at the bench. The sun shines brightly in the sky but clouds seem to begin to roll in out of nowhere. No one else is in the park.
SUE
The scariest thing about this bench is that it needs a new coat of paint.
Vanessa walks around the bench, examining it.
VANESSA
It just seemed too vivid to be in my imagination.
Vanessa curiously touches the lamp post and it lights up. This prompts a startled scream from Vanessa.
SUE
Okay Vee, let’s get you home.
A HOODED FIGURE dressed in grey appears behind Sue and pushes her down. Vanessa looks on horrified. As the hooded figure crouches over Sue’s body making DISTURBING NOISES. Vanessa cranks her head away and buries her face in her hands, sobbing.
Sue’s body twitches on final time as the hooded figure rises and turns towards Vanessa. It’s face is shaded from view by the hood, all that’s visible is two glowing red eyes.
Vanessa attempts a scream but nothing happens. They sky becomes dark as clouds roll in. Lightning cracks through the sky with every step the hooded figure takes.
VANESSA (EXHAUSTED)
Okay, if this is some kind of joke it’s really not funny.
The hooded figure does not quicken his pace but casually moves forward.
VANESSA (CONT’D)
Okay... ha ha. I get it. Real funny guys. Okay Sue I’m sorry I made such a big deal out of everything.
The figure hisses and lunges at Vanessa. She screams.
INT. VANESSA’S BEDROOM - MORNING
Vanessa’s phone is ringing. She gasps sitting bolt upright and scrambles for her phone.
VANESSA
Hello?
SUE (V.O.)
Hey lady! Just checking up on you. Wanted to make sure everything was alright.
VANESSA
Yeah... everything is alright. Just had another nightmare. Nothing to worry about, I’m sure they’ll pass.
SUE (V.O.)
It’s been a couple weeks now. Maybe you should let the doctors know.
VANESSA
Yeah I have an appointment tomorrow. I’m sure it’s nothing.
SUE (V.O.)
Go for a walk in the park or something... oh shoot. Honey I have to go. Call me later.
Vanessa hangs up the phone and stars at the ceiling. She rolls on her side and is face to face with the old woman.
WOMAN
Good morning sunshine!
The woman lunges at Vanessa.
Fade Out.
PROFESSOR NEAL (V.O.)
There are two worlds. The world you know and the world you think you know.
End.
Loglines
I'm not 100% confident in my loglines. I know my stories and I love (most of) them. I need to work on my pitches and trying to cram as much info as possible into only a few sentences.
In class we had to come up with 10 loglines. These (for better or worse) are mine:
Crestfall – A young female veteran wakes to find she’s sprouted wings and has super powers, as she investigates this phenomenon she uncovers a conspiracy that hits a little too close to home.
Fake It Til You Bake It – A middle class father recently lost his job so he enters a local cooking contest for some quick cash. Using only boxed cake and brownie mixes he wins effortlessly and soon has his own cooking show, but his conniving ex-wife threatens to reveal his secret to the world.
Two Worlds – An African American teen has her world flipped upside down after a near fatal car crash where she glimpsed the after life, now demonic apparitions haunt her daily.
One Night in Des Moines - In a noir tale set in the 1920’s, a policeman’s partner is brutally murdered in a quiet Midwestern city, the policeman is sole witness and must now gather evidence to prove his claims are substantiated.
Unfortunate - A college graduate tries his hand at stand up comedy but has no real affinity for it. His friends don’t have the heart to tell him as he signs up for a nationally televised talent show.
Reality Check - A group of well to do college students get part time jobs at a parking lot as part of a social experiment in order to find some over analyzed crumb of self importance, along the way they are faced with the possibility of having to actually do something in order to have validation in their life.
Porn-Buddies – A man in his early thirties receives an email from his high school best friend who has recently passed away. His friend asks in the email for the man to go to his apt and clear out all of his porn before his mother and sister come to clear out his things.
Succubus - When a reclusive 30-year-old man answers a personal ad online he’s introduced to the woman of his dreams. After the sun sets she locks the doors and his night of terror begins.
We Can Do That – In the not too distant future a man procures the services of “Oops Incorporated”, a company that allows him the use of time travel up to 3 times to go into his own past and correct any mistake he chooses. He’s forced to question the consequences of every decision he’s ever made.
Caroline – She grew up in various homes with various people bounced from place to place. Now she struggles between a family that might actually love her, and the acceptance of peers who have their own definition of “cool”.
In class we had to come up with 10 loglines. These (for better or worse) are mine:
Crestfall – A young female veteran wakes to find she’s sprouted wings and has super powers, as she investigates this phenomenon she uncovers a conspiracy that hits a little too close to home.
Fake It Til You Bake It – A middle class father recently lost his job so he enters a local cooking contest for some quick cash. Using only boxed cake and brownie mixes he wins effortlessly and soon has his own cooking show, but his conniving ex-wife threatens to reveal his secret to the world.
Two Worlds – An African American teen has her world flipped upside down after a near fatal car crash where she glimpsed the after life, now demonic apparitions haunt her daily.
One Night in Des Moines - In a noir tale set in the 1920’s, a policeman’s partner is brutally murdered in a quiet Midwestern city, the policeman is sole witness and must now gather evidence to prove his claims are substantiated.
Unfortunate - A college graduate tries his hand at stand up comedy but has no real affinity for it. His friends don’t have the heart to tell him as he signs up for a nationally televised talent show.
Reality Check - A group of well to do college students get part time jobs at a parking lot as part of a social experiment in order to find some over analyzed crumb of self importance, along the way they are faced with the possibility of having to actually do something in order to have validation in their life.
Porn-Buddies – A man in his early thirties receives an email from his high school best friend who has recently passed away. His friend asks in the email for the man to go to his apt and clear out all of his porn before his mother and sister come to clear out his things.
Succubus - When a reclusive 30-year-old man answers a personal ad online he’s introduced to the woman of his dreams. After the sun sets she locks the doors and his night of terror begins.
We Can Do That – In the not too distant future a man procures the services of “Oops Incorporated”, a company that allows him the use of time travel up to 3 times to go into his own past and correct any mistake he chooses. He’s forced to question the consequences of every decision he’s ever made.
Caroline – She grew up in various homes with various people bounced from place to place. Now she struggles between a family that might actually love her, and the acceptance of peers who have their own definition of “cool”.
Writer's Block
(ramblings required for a post in class)
I don’t have a huge insight into writer’s block. I come across it daily and honestly I think it’s one of the things that have helped me become a better writer. Like right now for instance. I’m sitting at the table trying to put words on paper to describe the ideas in my head, and I can’t come up with anything better than what you’re reading right now.
If you take a look at what I wrote though, you’ll notice that I brought out the exact idea that I wanted to convey, and I did it in simple terms without over-thinking. Sometimes (for me) the best way to get over writer’s block is to just write.
I don’t have the direct quote but author Brian K. Vaughan once said something about how every writer has good words piled under a mountain of horrible ones, once you get all the horrible words out of the way, all that’s left are good ones. For me that says that no matter what I have to write words. I can only become a better writer.
I don’t have disciplined writing schedule. My biggest problem as a writer is that I just don’t take the time daily to write. When I do write, I write a lot but I’m working on writing little reviews for my friends’ blogs just to get in a deadline habit. The more writing I do, the faster I can get the horrible words out and get around to the good ones I know are in there.
I don’t have a huge insight into writer’s block. I come across it daily and honestly I think it’s one of the things that have helped me become a better writer. Like right now for instance. I’m sitting at the table trying to put words on paper to describe the ideas in my head, and I can’t come up with anything better than what you’re reading right now.
If you take a look at what I wrote though, you’ll notice that I brought out the exact idea that I wanted to convey, and I did it in simple terms without over-thinking. Sometimes (for me) the best way to get over writer’s block is to just write.
I don’t have the direct quote but author Brian K. Vaughan once said something about how every writer has good words piled under a mountain of horrible ones, once you get all the horrible words out of the way, all that’s left are good ones. For me that says that no matter what I have to write words. I can only become a better writer.
I don’t have disciplined writing schedule. My biggest problem as a writer is that I just don’t take the time daily to write. When I do write, I write a lot but I’m working on writing little reviews for my friends’ blogs just to get in a deadline habit. The more writing I do, the faster I can get the horrible words out and get around to the good ones I know are in there.
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