No dialogue needed

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I want to share a fun assignment from last month with you.
The challenge was to write a visual scene in screenplay format where two characters are in an argument, and no dialogue is used.

I chose to write about something I know a little bit about.
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INT. ELEMENTARY SCHOOL LIBRARY – DAY

Twenty-one fifth grade students mill around quietly. Some read, some are on the computers, others move among the stacks.
SAMANTHA, 40s, blond soccer mom turned stern librarian, stands at the checkout counter in front of a computer monitor. She raises an eyebrow at OLIVER, impish 12-year-old with cannot-be-controlled brown hair who punches a fellow student repeatedly. His SNICKER as each punch elicits a grimace is the only sound in the library.
Samantha drops a BOOK with a BANG on the counter. Oliver looks up at Samantha, sees the eyebrow, and GULPS.
Samantha points to a table with two chairs to the left of the checkout counter, Oliver drops his raised fist and shuffles dejectedly to the table. He drags his feet the entire way. He plops down in the chair facing the counter, puts both elbows on the table, and drops his head into his hands.
Samantha watches Oliver sit. She begins to scan the barcodes of books from huge pile located in a Returned Books bin. Heard throughout the library is a slow, steady series of BEEPS.
Oliver lifts his head from his hands and looks around. He spots a huge dictionary on a nearby pedestal. It is almost a foot thick and very old. He looks toward Samantha.
Samantha stops scanning, picks up a stack of books, turns, and moves into the office behind the counter.
Oliver jumps up and grabs the dictionary. He carefully balances it on the edge of the table opposite his chair, hanging halfway off. He returns to his seat.
Samantha enters from the office pushing a full book cart. She moves to a shelf ten feet to the left of Oliver. She kneels down and shelves books.
Oliver slides down in his chair and stretches out one leg. He gently raises his leg until his foot touches the overhanging dictionary. He bends his knee and slowly straightens it. He does this again. The third time he bends his knee he straightens it with as much force as he can muster. His foot WHACKS into the DICTIONARY and it topples sideways, knocking over a CHAIR with a CRASH.
All eyes in the library turn toward Oliver. Samantha jumps to her feet, turns fearfully toward the noise, and raises her hand to her heart.  She looks at the overturned chair, at the dictionary, then at Oliver. The expression on her face changes to irritation.
Oliver looks at Samantha and immediately lays his head on his arms on the table. Samantha moves over and puts the chair and the book back in their proper places. She stands, arms crossed, looking down at Oliver.
Without moving his head Oliver cautiously opens an eye, sees Samantha standing over him, and tightly recloses it.
Samantha stands over Oliver a moment longer. She looks at the clock. She looks at the other students, all working quietly. She moves quickly around the counter into the office. When she reappears, she has in her hand a stack of plain paper and markers of assorted colors.
Samantha moves to Oliver’s table, pulls out a chair, and sits. She gently places the paper and markers near Oliver’s lowered head.
Oliver opens an eye and sees the paper and markers. He slowly raises his head and looks toward Samantha.
Samantha winks. Oliver sits up straight, grabs the blue marker and uncaps it. He moves the paper directly in front of him and looks again at Samantha.
Samantha smiles. Oliver returns the smile and begins to draw.
Samantha moves to the checkout counter. The slow, steady BEEP of the SCANNER is the only sound in the library.

Writing chunks

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Have you ever looked at a big project, unsure how you would ever have the time, energy, or guts to finish it? It is overwhelming, unwieldy, and very, very frightening.

That is exactly what writing a novel or a screenplay is like. As a whole it appears impossible. It is too complicated, too monstrous, too hard to wrap your head around.

Which is why you write chunks. Manageable chunks, or 10 or so pages.

Anyone can wrap their head around 10 pages, right?

Of course, if you jump into writing those 10 page chunks without any planning, well, the result would be pretty much the same as attempting to build a mansion without a blueprint. You might manage to make it look all right on the outside, but no one would want to spend very much time in it.

Pre-write! Develop the characters. Create the plot. Build the structure.

And then jump right in and write chunks.

It is a lot of fun. Really!

Today I write

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I got up this morning, made a cup of coffee, and sat down at my computer with my anticipation level off the charts.

You see, today I will write.

My program so far has been filled to the brim with prep work. Story arcs, character development, pacing, plot, etc. I have been soaking in the elements of a good story, totally immersed to the point that at times I thought I might drown.

Oh, I’ve done writing of course. Plenty of it. But it was homework writing. Writing for a professor to grade. Writing to prove I understood a concept. Writing to show I had grasped the latest lesson.

I don’t consider that real writing. Real writing raises my endorphins, fills me with joy, and makes me feel that the world is a glorious and wonderful place.

As I sit here prolonging the suspense, stretching out that first moment when I put fingers to keyboard, I realize just how much I have missed my regular writing sessions. It feels like I am coming home.

Darn it! I’m out of coffee. I guess I’ve stretched out the anticipation a tad too long. I need to go make another cup.

And then I write.

My bully story

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I was bullied in fifth grade.

Every day for most of the school year, this group of 5 girls would surround me during recess and punch me, pull my hair, pinch me, and tell me what a horrible person I was. I was new to the school, so I felt alone, vulnerable, and afraid.

Finally, in tears, I gathered my courage and told my mom about it. I remember feeling embarrassed, thinking I must have done something horrible to bring this on myself.

My mother was great! She explained to me that I was not to blame, that the bullies were the ones in the wrong.

She told me to look in the mirror, and that what I saw there was a wonderful person who was strong. She said that the girls who were picking on me probably saw that strength and were intimidated, that that was why they were being bullies. They were afraid of me!

She then went on to say that those horrible girls, the ones who tortured me on a daily basis, probably really wanted to be my friends, but didn’t know how.

That was a long time ago. I cannot remember exactly what I said, or what I did. What I do know is that my view of the girls changed and my attitude toward them changed right along with it.  They lost their power over me.

Since I no longer reacted like a victim they gradually lost interest in me and began to leave me alone. So my mom was right, I was a strong girl who could handle it. But she was wrong, the girls never became my friends.

Or so I thought until a couple of years later. We had a large group of new students move into our school, and for whatever reason several of them decided I was the perfect person to bully.

Before I had a chance to react to these new attacks I found myself surrounded by the very same girls who had once been my tormentors.

Only this time, they were there to protect me.

A bad script is read

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Each week for class, we are required to post to a discussion board. What we post depends on what we are studying at the moment.

For this week, we were given a “bad” script to read and evaluate. In previous classes we’ve evaluated mini-scripts written by classmates, but never before have we been given a full length script, reminded that the writer of the script has no access to our comments, and told to rip it to shreds.

It sounds easy, doesn’t it? After all, we humans are very critical beings, and we often enjoy finding the bad in things more than we like finding the good. Complaining is one of our common hobbies.

But this script was such a mess that it was difficult to know where to start. The formatting was all wrong, there were whole scenes that made no sense, and spelling and grammar errors abounded. What a horror to read!

But worst of all, it was hard to tell exactly who was supposed to be the main character! Can you imagine?

Amazingly, ladies and gentlemen, this script was made into a movie. I remember seeing it advertised in the theaters.

It did not get very good reviews.

Hmmm. I guess the old saying that the apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree works for movies too!

Would they, could they, write a script?

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The time to visit my husband’s school to talk to the students about writing is just around the corner. As a matter of fact, I bet if I blink fast a few dozen times it will be here!

So I won’t blink, not even slowly, because I’m not ready.

I want to really motivate the kids. I want them to understand why good writing is important, and how they can become better writers.

The problem is, how?

Right now I am totally fascinated with screenwriting (I wonder why?), and would like to teach a screenwriting lesson to the kids. It seems like it would be a wonderful way for them to get a grasp of the necessary parts of a story–character, plot, scene, etc.

But I don’t think time is on my side. Whatever lesson I teach needs to be able to be completed in about 45 minutes. 45 minutes to explain the parts of a script (simplified for 5th graders, of course), to stress the importance of strong plot and characters, and to get them to write?

I don’t know. I just don’t know. It might be possible….

A present of sun

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Today is a good day.

I cannot remember a single birthday when it wasn’t rainy. That’s not to say that it didn’t happen, I just don’t remember it.

I first began noticing the raininess of my birthday in my teen years, and I’ve been kinda keeping track ever since. I’ve had birthdays where the day before and the day after are sunny, but my actual birthday, well, it seems to bring the rain.

I suppose it is only to be expected, having a birthday that falls directly after Groundhog Day.

But today is a good day because this birthday is different. I look outside and I am amazed at the beauty I see there. So much sun! It could be Spring! On February 3rd!

I think I’ll take it as a good omen.  And go outside.

We ain’t equal yet, sister!

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The world is not an equal place. Especially for women.

I came across the Writers Guild of America’s list of 101 best screenplays of all time. It was done in 2005, and it is a very interesting list. (Entire list can be found at here on the WGA site.) 

According to the US Census Bureau, 50.8% of the US population is female (2010 statistic). That’s to be expected, since we all know pretty much half of the population is female, and usually has been.
Yet of the 101 screenplays deemed “best” by the WGA, only 6 of them were written, or co-written, by women.

It’s a Wonderful Life: Co-written by Frances Goodrich & Albert Hackett & Frank Capra.


Wizard of Oz: Co-written by Noel Langley and Florence Ryerson and Edgar Allan Woolf.

Singin’ in the Rain: Co-written by Betty Comden & Adolph Green.


Thelma & LouiseWritten by Callie Khouri

When Harry Met SallyWritten by Nora Ephron

E.T.:  Written by Melissa Mathison
 
§        It made me wonder. I know there are a lot of fabulous female writers, so why are they not evident in the entertainment business? And could that explain why there seemed to be a lot more good male roles available than there are female ones?
You should read the article. It talks about a study done in 2008 that found that men outnumbered women 5 to 1 among the 5,000 most influential roles. It goes on to say that only “8% of directors, 13.6% of writers, and 19.1% of producers are female.”
 
Yet, women make up more than half of the population. It makes you think, doesn’t it?
 

ABNA

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I did it. I entered Gray Zone into the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest.

Wish me luck, and send Gray Zone all the good thoughts you can spare. It is a Young Adult contemporary fiction about cyberbullying, so the topic is topical.

I finished it ages ago (at least 6 months) and I’ve been just waiting for this contest.

There are 2 categories, general fiction and young adult fiction. Each category will have 5,000 entries.

On February 23rd Amazon editors will narrow it down to 1,000 entries per category, based simply on the book’s pitch.

It makes me nervous to enter my book in a contest like this, but it is also exciting!

Again, wish me luck!

Snowstorm 2012

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The news reports say that it is one of the top five biggest snowstorms our area has had in history. They’ve called it Winter Extreme, Winter Wallop, and even good old Snowstorm.

All I know is that it is cold, beautiful, it transforms my neighborhood into a winter wonderland, and that I’m glad I have a cozy house to save me from its wonderfulness.