Last post I wrote about the end of one season, summer. But the end of summer announces a whole new season. Not duck season or even wabbit season but rather as Mr. Fudd might pronounce it, witing season.
One good thing that the end of summer brings me is more time to write. And that's just what I've started to do.
So chillier nights and days of shorter sunlight can't dampen my spirit nor do they throw salt on the wounds of a dying summer. For tomorrow may be yet one more glorious beach day (woo hoo), tonight is a nice dinner and a film with good company and the rest of my time is writing, reading, working on scripts.
Now you'll excuse me while I go back to reading a colleague's work for an upcoming group critique. :-)
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
The End Of Summer
September 14, 2010. The End of Summer
For most people I assume, as a child and up through ones teens the "official end of summer" is the beginning of each new school year. The first day of school becomes a benchmark. Undeniable and absolute.
As I inevitably moved into adulthood, the end of summer had little to no impact on my day to day life. It was what is was. Just another shift in the seasons. For many of my adult years, working in theaters and nightclubs, even Labor Day became just a blip on my yearly radar. Summer was a just a word, less important in my daily existence than the simple fact of whether or not it was going to be a hot or warm day.
The end of summer became the mundane change of seasons, the inevitable and eventual yearly autumnal equinox. As September comes to a close, October is just around the corner. Many years of my life pass and the fact that there even is a summer, becomes moot.
As I rapidly approach sixty years of age, my view of the "end of summer" has been filtered by events over the last ten years of my life (such as it is).
I'll address the more recent event first - buying a second home on the Jersey Shore just over five summers ago. Weekends "at the beach" become an undeniable benchmark for summer. When the Labor Day weekend rolls around, when the lifeguards stop showing up, when the beach is "officially" closed... you can't escape that overwhelming reality. Summer, whether you like it or not, is over!
But there's one more "benchmark," an even more powerful event that occurs each September that for me, trumps Labor Day and all other commonly accepted standard measures of time.
In 2001, the Brooklyn Cyclones, a "single A," short season, Minor (NY Penn) League team of the New York Mets, were established in Coney Island, Brooklyn, NY. The first "professional" baseball team in Brooklyn since O'Malley stabbed all Brooklynites in the heart by taking the Dodgers west.
Needless to say, a fan of the Cyclones I became. Starting out with the "mini-plan" tickets, I quickly became a season ticket holder. A die hard.
And then it happened.
Year after year, weekend house on The Shore or not, MY official end of summer became the last Cyclones game I attend in Coney Island. Even though the Cyclones play in a "short season" league, they always finish their season just a bit after Labor Day. And each year, that last game I attend always feels like the last day of my summer (long pants and sweatshirts notwithstanding).
Most years (not counting 2001), the final games I've attended have been a "wait until next year," bittersweet moment. And in every case they became (like it or not) the final, absolute (often melancholy) last day of summer.
So here we are...
2010 was a great year for the Cyclones. They had the best record in the league. Two of the best five pitchers and two of the best five hitters in the league, including the batting champion. Their coach, Wally Backman, may just have secured his place as future coach of the Mets (next year?).
And yet... They struggled against the wild card team in the first round of the playoffs, losing the first game, kicking and scratching to win the next two (all playoff series are best of three).
The Cyclones lost the first game of the Championship series last Saturday. Scheduled to return home on Sunday for the remaining two games, both Sunday and Monday games were rained out.
Which brings me back to tonight. September 14, 2010.
If you haven't figured it out by now, my beloved Brooklyn Cyclones, (the best team during the regular season), lost the championship series (and congratulations to the Tri-City Valley Cats - they earned it).
I could address the fact that somehow, the Brooklyn Dodgers found mores ways to lose the World Series than win it or I could make some (obvious and clichéd) NY Mets references... but that's not the point of all this.
The point is, I just attended, in Coney Island at MCU Field, the very last game of the Brooklyn Cyclones for 2010.
Summer is officially over. Sigh.
For most people I assume, as a child and up through ones teens the "official end of summer" is the beginning of each new school year. The first day of school becomes a benchmark. Undeniable and absolute.
As I inevitably moved into adulthood, the end of summer had little to no impact on my day to day life. It was what is was. Just another shift in the seasons. For many of my adult years, working in theaters and nightclubs, even Labor Day became just a blip on my yearly radar. Summer was a just a word, less important in my daily existence than the simple fact of whether or not it was going to be a hot or warm day.
The end of summer became the mundane change of seasons, the inevitable and eventual yearly autumnal equinox. As September comes to a close, October is just around the corner. Many years of my life pass and the fact that there even is a summer, becomes moot.
As I rapidly approach sixty years of age, my view of the "end of summer" has been filtered by events over the last ten years of my life (such as it is).
I'll address the more recent event first - buying a second home on the Jersey Shore just over five summers ago. Weekends "at the beach" become an undeniable benchmark for summer. When the Labor Day weekend rolls around, when the lifeguards stop showing up, when the beach is "officially" closed... you can't escape that overwhelming reality. Summer, whether you like it or not, is over!
But there's one more "benchmark," an even more powerful event that occurs each September that for me, trumps Labor Day and all other commonly accepted standard measures of time.
In 2001, the Brooklyn Cyclones, a "single A," short season, Minor (NY Penn) League team of the New York Mets, were established in Coney Island, Brooklyn, NY. The first "professional" baseball team in Brooklyn since O'Malley stabbed all Brooklynites in the heart by taking the Dodgers west.
Needless to say, a fan of the Cyclones I became. Starting out with the "mini-plan" tickets, I quickly became a season ticket holder. A die hard.
And then it happened.
Year after year, weekend house on The Shore or not, MY official end of summer became the last Cyclones game I attend in Coney Island. Even though the Cyclones play in a "short season" league, they always finish their season just a bit after Labor Day. And each year, that last game I attend always feels like the last day of my summer (long pants and sweatshirts notwithstanding).
Most years (not counting 2001), the final games I've attended have been a "wait until next year," bittersweet moment. And in every case they became (like it or not) the final, absolute (often melancholy) last day of summer.
So here we are...
2010 was a great year for the Cyclones. They had the best record in the league. Two of the best five pitchers and two of the best five hitters in the league, including the batting champion. Their coach, Wally Backman, may just have secured his place as future coach of the Mets (next year?).
And yet... They struggled against the wild card team in the first round of the playoffs, losing the first game, kicking and scratching to win the next two (all playoff series are best of three).
The Cyclones lost the first game of the Championship series last Saturday. Scheduled to return home on Sunday for the remaining two games, both Sunday and Monday games were rained out.
Which brings me back to tonight. September 14, 2010.
If you haven't figured it out by now, my beloved Brooklyn Cyclones, (the best team during the regular season), lost the championship series (and congratulations to the Tri-City Valley Cats - they earned it).
I could address the fact that somehow, the Brooklyn Dodgers found mores ways to lose the World Series than win it or I could make some (obvious and clichéd) NY Mets references... but that's not the point of all this.
The point is, I just attended, in Coney Island at MCU Field, the very last game of the Brooklyn Cyclones for 2010.
Summer is officially over. Sigh.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Q & A Versus Q & Q!
Q and A is bad. It's usually a "poor man's excuse" for exposition.
But what about Q and Q?
A noir style script I'm writing has a few dialog exchanges which have rapid fire question, answered by question, followed by question moments.
Verbal jousting, as it were. (I think each question in the string becomes a statement.)
To me, this is a far cry from Q and A and unlike exposition, can actually work to create amazing subtext. It has the added advantage of establishing character as well as building unique relationship between characters.
My current screenwriting mentor commented in his review notes that these scenes were "Q & A" (with negative connotation). I think he's wrong. To be continued!
Update from Sept 8
Having discussed this with said mentor (many wines and beers later), he agreed that Q and Q is fine and that he may have "rushed to judgment."
Update from Sept 8
Having discussed this with said mentor (many wines and beers later), he agreed that Q and Q is fine and that he may have "rushed to judgment."
Published with Blogger-droid v1.5.8
Monday, August 30, 2010
This Way, Then That, Gets You Lost
Lately, I find myself straddling a screenwriting fence. Not a good thing.
On the one side is my rewrite of my third script (People Who Kill). It doesn't quite need a full "page one" style scrubbing... but close. I'm actually looking forward to revisiting my characters from that story. Two in particular really need to be fleshed out from the first draft (mainly because, as will happen, a character became a much larger part of the story than originally thought).
Having just been asked today to give a friend one of my scripts (she'd like to read one), made me think, time to get that second draft done!
On the other side of this mental divide is a new script. A short film that I expect to run about 32 pages.
New is fun. Plus a new script fits right into my testing of new screenwriting software (Movie Outline). I always enjoy the challenge of working with new tools especially if I think they'll add some real value to my writing as this one seems to promise. And then there's the "finish line," a mere 32 pages away (I think I can see it off in the distance). Tempting to shoot for.
So here's the rub. I've become unfocused. My "random story/script thoughts" (those brilliant ideas I get while in the shower or standing at a public urinal) are less frequent. And they don't seem to have the same "juice" when they do pop up.
And did I mention that I've got a fourth script in rough outline form, sitting in my PC, tapping its foot, waiting for me?
So I think I've got to commit to working on one or the other and just finishing it. Let one wait. It won't go anywhere without me.
Which one, you ask?
Why People Who Kill, of course!
On the one side is my rewrite of my third script (People Who Kill). It doesn't quite need a full "page one" style scrubbing... but close. I'm actually looking forward to revisiting my characters from that story. Two in particular really need to be fleshed out from the first draft (mainly because, as will happen, a character became a much larger part of the story than originally thought).
Having just been asked today to give a friend one of my scripts (she'd like to read one), made me think, time to get that second draft done!
On the other side of this mental divide is a new script. A short film that I expect to run about 32 pages.
New is fun. Plus a new script fits right into my testing of new screenwriting software (Movie Outline). I always enjoy the challenge of working with new tools especially if I think they'll add some real value to my writing as this one seems to promise. And then there's the "finish line," a mere 32 pages away (I think I can see it off in the distance). Tempting to shoot for.
So here's the rub. I've become unfocused. My "random story/script thoughts" (those brilliant ideas I get while in the shower or standing at a public urinal) are less frequent. And they don't seem to have the same "juice" when they do pop up.
And did I mention that I've got a fourth script in rough outline form, sitting in my PC, tapping its foot, waiting for me?
So I think I've got to commit to working on one or the other and just finishing it. Let one wait. It won't go anywhere without me.
Which one, you ask?
Why People Who Kill, of course!
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Memories
This morning I suddenly remember a scriptwriting moment. A flashback as it were.
It was my first script, The Hannibal Heist. The scene I was working on was one in which I needed my protagonist to be in a position to set up one link in a long complicated chain. (Hannah, shopping downtown, spots Jack leaving his gym and follows him.) This scene wasn't in my original outline so may be one reason why it's such a distinct memory.
Anyway.. the trigger for this memory was thinking about the location where I was working that day... a strip mall with outlet stores. This had to be close to four years ago.
One thing that was important about this memory, this moment in time, was that my mother was still alive and she was with us that day.
My niece, nephew and mom were down with us at our weekend house. While they all shopped the outlets, I wrote. Outside, on a bench (funny though.. I can't remember if I was using my netbook PC or a notebook and pencil to write).
What really struck me about this memory is all the following...
Foremost... I miss my mom. Of course, that goes without saying but it always hits hardest when it connects to a moment... some everyday event that plays out like a film in my head. So fresh, as if it were just last week.
Another thought this memory triggered was one of guilt. We need to invite my niece and nephew down to our weekend house... and we have been terribly forgetful. We've yet to do so.
But the most amazing thing to me about this memory is the simple fact that I am connecting moments in my life, even ones from so many years ago, with my writing.
Maybe this means I have arrived? I really am a writer.
It was my first script, The Hannibal Heist. The scene I was working on was one in which I needed my protagonist to be in a position to set up one link in a long complicated chain. (Hannah, shopping downtown, spots Jack leaving his gym and follows him.) This scene wasn't in my original outline so may be one reason why it's such a distinct memory.
Anyway.. the trigger for this memory was thinking about the location where I was working that day... a strip mall with outlet stores. This had to be close to four years ago.
One thing that was important about this memory, this moment in time, was that my mother was still alive and she was with us that day.
My niece, nephew and mom were down with us at our weekend house. While they all shopped the outlets, I wrote. Outside, on a bench (funny though.. I can't remember if I was using my netbook PC or a notebook and pencil to write).
What really struck me about this memory is all the following...
Foremost... I miss my mom. Of course, that goes without saying but it always hits hardest when it connects to a moment... some everyday event that plays out like a film in my head. So fresh, as if it were just last week.
Another thought this memory triggered was one of guilt. We need to invite my niece and nephew down to our weekend house... and we have been terribly forgetful. We've yet to do so.
But the most amazing thing to me about this memory is the simple fact that I am connecting moments in my life, even ones from so many years ago, with my writing.
Maybe this means I have arrived? I really am a writer.
Published with Blogger-droid v1.5.3
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Salt in the Wound
Saw "Salt" tonight. No reviews here BTW... I find they're exhausting to write. I will say I'm a big fan of all the lead actors in this movie (Jolie, Schreiber and Ejiofor) but was somewhat disappointed in most of the film (story, dialog, etc.). Entertaining, but a little flat. (And Angelina seemed more believable at kicking ass in Tomb Raider than here.)
Thoughts the day after:
The biggest "issue" I had with the film was a major plot point that sets all the wheels in motion. Without trying to write a spoiler, I'll just say this... At some point (about two thirds into the story?) I thought back to this initial plot trigger and my brain went, hey wait, "WTF!?!" Suddenly - mid film - I couldn't make sense of that part of the storyline (it became a huge distraction).
I'm still scratching my head trying to figure it out. Either this plot point doesn't make any sense at all or I totally missed something.
Either way, it became (as mentioned) a distraction (smaller while watching but bigger in retrospect - the screenwriter in me just doing my thing).
So why bother bringing this all up in the first place? I've run into this in at least one my scripts. You NEED this to happen (e.g., it simply drives the story forward), but just can't make it "fit" later on. You've created such a "clever" plot line, one that has great twist, turns and even back flips, but they've muddled (at best) or derailed (at worst) that initial catalyst moment.
I think these conundrums probably tend to happen with thrillers, crime stories, etc., more than other dramatic or comedic genres, but they do happen.
So what's the resolution?
In the case of Salt, I think they simply needed to hope he audience wouldn't think too hard and would just "let it slide." I think I've taken that same route at least once.
But I think, whenever possible, the elegant answer is: rewrite it to make it work.
Do whatever it takes - reshape, reinvent, destroy and rebuild that catalyst moment - OR - do the same for the plot twist or turn that "challenges" your initial plot trigger.
In the case of Salt, I think that avenue might have been closed. That catalyst is just simply too powerful to reshape - she simply NEEDS to be identified as a Russian spy (and that's not a spoiler if you've seen at least one trailer). And I don't know if there was any way to re-write the plot elements that conflict with the "hows and whys" of this initial reveal later (they shape who she is and why she does what she does).
Still, for some (most reviewers and screenwriters I imagine will suffer this fate) you'll just have to let this slide off to enjoy the ride. After all, the ride's quite fun!
Thoughts the day after:
The biggest "issue" I had with the film was a major plot point that sets all the wheels in motion. Without trying to write a spoiler, I'll just say this... At some point (about two thirds into the story?) I thought back to this initial plot trigger and my brain went, hey wait, "WTF!?!" Suddenly - mid film - I couldn't make sense of that part of the storyline (it became a huge distraction).
I'm still scratching my head trying to figure it out. Either this plot point doesn't make any sense at all or I totally missed something.
Either way, it became (as mentioned) a distraction (smaller while watching but bigger in retrospect - the screenwriter in me just doing my thing).
So why bother bringing this all up in the first place? I've run into this in at least one my scripts. You NEED this to happen (e.g., it simply drives the story forward), but just can't make it "fit" later on. You've created such a "clever" plot line, one that has great twist, turns and even back flips, but they've muddled (at best) or derailed (at worst) that initial catalyst moment.
I think these conundrums probably tend to happen with thrillers, crime stories, etc., more than other dramatic or comedic genres, but they do happen.
So what's the resolution?
In the case of Salt, I think they simply needed to hope he audience wouldn't think too hard and would just "let it slide." I think I've taken that same route at least once.
But I think, whenever possible, the elegant answer is: rewrite it to make it work.
Do whatever it takes - reshape, reinvent, destroy and rebuild that catalyst moment - OR - do the same for the plot twist or turn that "challenges" your initial plot trigger.
In the case of Salt, I think that avenue might have been closed. That catalyst is just simply too powerful to reshape - she simply NEEDS to be identified as a Russian spy (and that's not a spoiler if you've seen at least one trailer). And I don't know if there was any way to re-write the plot elements that conflict with the "hows and whys" of this initial reveal later (they shape who she is and why she does what she does).
Still, for some (most reviewers and screenwriters I imagine will suffer this fate) you'll just have to let this slide off to enjoy the ride. After all, the ride's quite fun!
Friday, August 13, 2010
Tales from the Script
Watched Tales from the Script again.
This is a film that anyone (nay, everyone) thinking about or trying to write a screenplay should see.
If after watching the horror, the reality of what this business is all about, the enormous obstacles, challenges and the levels of hell that await you you still think, "yeah, that's for me," you may just have a chance. One that's as slim as shit, but...
And that's just what I've gone and done. Damn.
This is a film that anyone (nay, everyone) thinking about or trying to write a screenplay should see.
If after watching the horror, the reality of what this business is all about, the enormous obstacles, challenges and the levels of hell that await you you still think, "yeah, that's for me," you may just have a chance. One that's as slim as shit, but...
And that's just what I've gone and done. Damn.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Blogging remotely
This is a test and not an actual emergency. I'm blogging from my Android Hero. Ain't technology great?
Published with Blogger-droid v1.5.1
And away we go...
A fresh start... with nothing to say. Oh great. Umm... Welcome. (Crap! I suck at this. ) Ta Da!
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