Another Step Down the Path

It's been a while. That's a bad habit.

So, Kiltartan Cross was chosen for IMF, and will be directed by Pat Casados. I'm really looking forward to the process and the production, and I think the director and cast will do some amazing things with it. On a side note from that, I'm considering adapting Kiltartan Cross into a screenplay. I think that it's a show that lends itself well to film, and it would be good to have a screenplay, mainly as practice, but it could work as a spec.

I figure that screenwriting is an option that I would really like to explore, both because the differences from playwriting make it interesting and because, well, that's where the money is. It will also give me a chance to go back over Kiltartan Cross line-by-line with the goal of adapting it and adding to it.

Petrograd Awaits, meanwhile, is still in research stages, but it's getting more and more interesting every day. I think I'm also going to keep the Odyssey in mind when writing it. Analyzing the Odyssey was really helpful in finding the key themes of Petrograd Awaits, as well as giving me a solid Act III. Really looking forward to next semester. At the moment, I'm about to take off for a party, but when I get back (or early tomorrow) I'll do another writing exercise here.

Petrograd Awaits

I've submitted Kiltartan Cross. Whatever happens, it'll get directed by someone interested in collaborating. Whether or not that's through IMF is someone else's decision to make.

At the moment, I'm trying to design an independent study course around Lenin's sealed train to Russia. I think I can sell it pretty well, and I'm kind of obsessed with the concept, but it's gonna be an ass-ton of reading. I've already identified 7 texts I'm going to start with.

History!

I've been a little inspired by Tom and Jeremy's historical play on the late-1930's Munich Post writers. I'm toying with doing a historical play of my own, most likely some telling of the Congress of Vienna of 1815, because Charles Maurice de Talleyrand is a stone-cold baddass.

Next Full-Length

Now that Once More has reached a near-final state, I figure I'll start brainstorming my next full-length. I'm getting closer and closer to identifying myself as "a playwright", in that I'm starting to feel like I need to be working on something at any given time.

I want my next play to be much more lighthearted than my last two. Once More is dramatic, and The Florentine was tragicomic, so I think I'm going to play around with a more farcical comedy. Again, I'll be using this blog to think out loud, and to work through roadblocks.

I think this next show will, again, be some metatheatre. I'm thinking in terms of a production that goes terribly awry due to backstage developments. This means the play within the play will need to be one very well-known, so the audience can pick up on points of departure. This will most likely end up being Shakespeare, probably Romeo + Juliet.

However, if I use Shakespeare, it needs to be an adaptation, specifically for only 4 or 5 actors. I'm leaning towards 4. This way, we get a lot of the farcical entrances and exits and quick costume changes.

The main source of real conflict, I think, will be a love triangle among the actors, with the fourth actor being the only decent person in the cast, but the one all the awful things happen to.

Thought: if the 'outsider' member of the cast plays Romeo? Then, the only person not involved in the conflict involving Juilet is Romeo.

I'm going to work on a plot structure for this, soon. I'll post it when I'm done.

EDIT: I've decided I don't particularly like this idea. It's a little too close to Kiss Me Kat (a play I don't like) and the work required doesn't match the emotional payoff.

The Silent Scene

Right. Here's my dialogue-free scene:

Nighttime. A motel room. BEN, a middle-aged man with a greying beard, is sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s been kept waiting for quite a while. He fidgets, checks his watch. Headlights shine through the windows. BEN gets up and walks quickly to the blinds drawn over the window and peeks through them. Whatever he expected to see, this isn’t it. He sits back down on the bed and flicks on the television. He watches restlessly for a minute or so before another set of headlights sweep across the blinds. BEN turns off the TV and quickly stands, rooted to the spot. For a long beat, nothing happens, but just as BEN is starting to relax, three sharp knocks are heard. BEN takes a few deep breaths, and walks slowly to the door and opens it. RICK is standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the headlamps of his car. BEN is not at all happy to see RICK. RICK is dressed smartly, and walks in without waiting for an invitation of any kind. As soon as his back is to BEN, BEN tackles RICK hard around the middle and pins him to the ground. RICK reaches for his coat pocket, but BEN grabs his hand and wrenches it behind RICK’s back. BEN reaches into RICK’s pocket, expecting to find a gun, but instead there is only a small, wrinkled photograph. Upon seeing the picture, BEN, in shock, releases RICK, who slowly stands and dusts himself off while BEN stares at the photo, stunned. BEN looks up at RICK in horror, and RICK motions for BEN to turn the photo over. Written on the back is a phone number. Numb, BEN dials the number on the motel phone while RICK calmly adjusts his tie and looks around the room. BEN doesn’t talk, merely listens to the voice on the other end of the line, occasionally offering a “uh-huh” or “mm-hmm”. BEN hangs up, turns to RICK, and nods. RICK tosses an envelope from his coat pocket to BEN. RICK lights a cigarette as BEN stares dumbly at the unopened envelope. BEN looks up at RICK, who blows smoke in his face as he counts off five hundred-dollar bills from a roll kept in his pocket. RICK looks at BEN, counts off three more bills, and tosses them on the bed. RICK exits. BEN stares at the envelope before walking to the phone and dialing a different number.

Fin

New Writing Assignment

Right, I know I've been bad at this. But I'm trying, Pops, I really am. Anyway, I've got an assignment for Playwriting class: write a scene that involves no dialogue in any way, shape, or form. We can use music, but the music must be devoid of lyrics. So, I'm gonna try 'thinking aloud', so to speak.

One possibility is a domestic abuse scene, the husband leaving for work in the morning. A lot of tension, lots of communication through glares and body language. On the downside, it feels a little overdramatic and depressing, and I want to have diversity of style, not just depressing bullshit.

Another would be a scene inspired by Le Samourai's opening ten minutes, sort of a deal being carried out without words being spoken.

A more humorous silent scene would involve music, sort of a man going through his morning routine, grooving to the music. When the music screeches to a halt, so does he. He doesn't quite know what's up, just that something's gone wrong.

At the moment, I think I like the Le Samourai variant. I'll work on that a little.

Discourses

For some reason, I started thinking about the book Godel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid. Can't find my copy, though. Sad.

Anyway, it got me thinking about the tradition of explaining via dialogues, much as Socrates did originally, a tradition that Lewis Carrol inherited. I kind of want to write "________: A Discourse in the Manner of Lewis Carrol." Problem is, I don't know what ________ is. Oh, well. Maybe something'll come to me.

First Draft Complete!

Once More, With Feeling now has a complete first draft. It clocks in at about 28 standard letter-size pages. I = super happy. Hopefully, I can get a lot of feedback on it and make the necessary changes, maybe snowflake it out a bit. If anyone actually reads this and wants to help me out by reading it and giving me their thoughts, I'd be glad to e-mail you a copy.

Now that the "bang it out" portion is done, I can focus on other writing exercises. I'll also be updating this more often.

One of the things we just did in Playwriting was try to write a group monologue. We started by freewriting on insomnia, and it had to start with "In the middle of the night, " We then picked a passage we wanted to improve (about a sentence length), and we're trying to stitch them together. I'm okay with what I came up with for the class, but I thought of a better one I really like while I was on my grave shift.

"Can't sleep. Can't sleep. Know why? It's the gremlins in my head. Little fuckers won't stop scratching at the walls. Scratch, scratch, scratch, they go. Scratch, scratch, scratch."

Progress!

It's being made. Did another two to three pages on Once More tonight. Not going to post them, but I figured that I should post something sos I don't fall out of the habit (of either writing or posting). I'm pretty happy with how Once More is going so far, though.

On another facet, just read The Abdication. I like it. I can see a lot of it in Once More (or a lot of Once More in it. Dunno), and Julia sounds like it's one she'd like to do for STF next year. But now is now, and then is then.

New Thematic Key

Looks like William Butler Yeats will have a strong thematic role in Once More, With Feeling. Found a couple of his poems, and really liked them. Strong lyric tendencies, while still being kind of modern.

The ones I'm definitely using are "An Irish Airman Foresees His Death":

"I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above:
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love:
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind,
In balance with this life, this death."

Also, I'll probably use his epitaph:

"Cast a cold eye
On life, on death.
Horseman, pass by!"

I may also try to work in a Latin quote that adorned timepieces and sundials:

"Vulnerant omnes, ultima necat." All hours wound, the last kills.

Also, take a look at this picture of Yeats!

In Progress

Well, it looks like I'll be pretty busy this next week, what with both an asston of reading to do for my midterm next week, as well as my promise to myself to finish my first draft of Once More before the end of this week.

I did, however, want to jot down a play idea I'll probably end up playing with. No idea how long it'll end up being. Basically, I want to do one where the play essentially disintegrates onstage due to backstage drama. I'll probably have the "play" be something already known, like Shakespeare or Cyrano, so that when the action deviates, the audience will know what's wrong.

Senator's Revalation

Well, here's me taking a swing at that monologue I brainstormed on earlier.

"Have a seat. Mind if I have a drink? Life really is interesting, Franklin. I learn something new about it every day. For example, did you know that birds can actually sing two notes at the same time? It's amazing. They have two voice boxes, or something. Y'see that starling out the window? His song is actually two unique melodies preformed at once. A normal human can't mimic it on his own. Needs help. But the bird...the bird is a choir unto itself. Isn't that something? Anyway, Franklin, I must thank you for your assistance with my campaign. You must have pulled some very dirty strings to be so marvelously effective. Sadly, my new position makes our previous agreement...untenable. I need to build trust in this community, Franklin, and I can't do that while I'm protecting a crime lord as notorious as Frankie Bellini. Shh, shh, shh. Don't interrupt. Now, while I am redefining our old agreement, that doesn't mean I'm cutting you out altogether. You're still very much involved. Because, you see, Franklin, you can help me build that trust I was talking about. (Pulls out a pistol) You see, threatening me after I nobly refused your bribe was an unwise move. Thank god my bodyguard fired first. (Senator fires, killing Frankie. Birdsong from outside the window.)"

Class Assignment

Need to write a monologue by Friday for Playwriting. It can be about anything, so I figured I'd use this journal as it was intended and think "aloud", if you will.

A monologue is one person speaking at length. Could be to him or herself, to another person or people, or to the audience. Topics: For some reason, I've been thinking about death and grieving lately, and I'd like to try toying with a topic I haven't played with before. I could do "relate my history", sort of like Inigo's speech about the six-fingered man, but that feels a little...straightforward. Actually, I'm starting to like the idea of a double-cross. Two characters had a deal, and after one gets what he wants, he tells the other to go fuck himself. Yeah.

So, what dirty deed was just committed? Theft? Murder? Subset of murder: assassination? Rigging an election? Yeah. I like that. A newly-elected senator, who got there with the help of a small-time mob boss, decides to renege on his side of the deal, and instead has the mobster killed "in self-defense".

Ghosts Exercise

KYLE: Storm's a-brewing, Johnny-boy. You can smell it in the air. The clouds are gathering, and soon they'll break, you'll break, and I'll get to watch it all.
JOHN: Shut up.
KYLE: Now why would I do that, when it so obviously bothers you?
JOHN: You're not real. You're dead.
KYLE: Oh, I'm dead, all right. The bullet you put through my right temple saw to that. Soon, now, you'll pay your price.
JOHN: You deserved a lot worse, you evil son of a bitch.
KYLE: That may be. But you never proved it.
JOHN: Just, shut up.
KYLE: Storm's brewing. This is a war you called down on yourself. Holed up in here with your dead hostage, all the cops in the burg around you. You won't be walking out of this one, Johnny-boy.
JOHN: You're dead. Just leave me alone.
KYLE: Can't, m'boy. Those are the rules. You killed me, and so I'm with you to the end. 'Course, that won't be long, now. (Pause) It was the same way with that bitch sister of yours. She just would. Not. Shut. Up!
JOHN: (Rushes Kyle, pins him to the wall.) Don't talk that way about her.
KYLE: (Laughs) Or what? You'll kill me again?(John pistol whips him. Kyle is unfazed.) It wasn't just the constant crying, either. (Again) Your Charlotte wasn't any great shakes to look at, but the cutting I did certainly didn't make her any prettier. (Again. Kyle laughs.)

Ghosts

A man haunted by all his ghosts. Trying to live and love while the past won't leave him alone. A 15 minute play, perhaps?

Who are the ghosts? Memories of people he knew, or did he actually kill them? Are they all people he knew while they lived, or historical figures? No abstract concepts personified.

Ghosts don't need to be from the past. One from the future? A ghost of now?

Six Word Stories

At last, I can cry again.
"I need you, too," she lied.
Without sleep, my dreams turned real.
Cursed fate. Fate cursed me back.
God's report card: "Too many truancies."
Amidst the rubble, the baby laughed.
Gone. It's all gone. Everything. Everyone.

Themes

Things I've been thinking about that interest me:

Madness – The definition of sanity. How sane people react to the actions of the insane. The freedom of those whose actions are based solely upon their individual perceptions of the world. Whether I would prefer to be mad, and whether it's possible to choose madness. Also, the word madness is cool.

Melancholy – Recently, I've been getting into funks, and melancholy is the best way to describe them. What I find interesting is that, although they are depressive episodes (and may actually be connected to clinical depression, given my family history), there's something beautiful about that emotional chord. For some reason, I enjoy getting that bittersweet depression for no reason at all. When I do, I tend to go for a walk alone across the mystery bridge and sit at the lookout. I think that's also the root of my two full-length plays. Trying to duplicate that emotional chord for an audience requires a fair deal of background.

Love – It's not so much that I want to tell love stories. It has more to do with trying to figure out what the word means. Love is bandied about so much and covers such a broad spectrum that it's really lost all objective meaning. Also, my experience with it has been very limited, if extant at all, so I'm very interested in exploring it via writing.

Starting Shot

This journal is more for me than for anyone else. I'm just really bad at maintaining a private journal, so I figure I'll feel more obligated to add to it if it's at least available to others. The primary goal of this will be both to practice my writing, as well as recording my writing process. However, nothing is really "off topic", so there will be glimpses into what I am thinking about or mulling over at any given time. And so, let's start off with where I'm at with various writing projects:

Once More, With Feeling – This is the full-length play I'm working on for this year's Infinite Monkeys Festival. I've got the full idea, and most of the skeleton dialogue. It's at about the half-hour point, but I'm estimating a length of about 50 minutes once I finish the first draft. Then it's just a matter of fleshing it out, snowflake-style.

Playwriting Class – There's a small idea I may be fleshing out. Based on the classic revenge tale (I just read the Oresteia), and the style is very much western in nature.

I'll also be posting turns of phrase or images I find interesting. I hope that my next project's evolution is completely documented here.