After many years of thinking it, it has finally come to fruition. I am co-writing a play!
I've wanted to write a play for a while now, but I have no training and no eye to write one. However, I've tried to get various people involved in playwriting over the years. Each attempt has failed, and I'm to blame as much as the other people.
But a friend and I recently discussed writing together, and today we met and talked for 3 hours. The first hour was just an idea frenzy, talking just to get a feel for how we each think and what we like. Then the play started forming around us. It was amazing how quickly it came about, and how many ideas we tossed off each other. One idea led to another, and since it was just a brainstorming session, we wrote everything down for future use.
It's an absurdist play. I have no experience with them, but my partner does. It's one act, separated into several stages. The basic plot is this: the main character, currently named John, meets a girl, currently named Rebecca, at a birthday party in NYC. After some usual chit chat, Rebecca chokes and dies. But John was not expecting it to happen. The actress herself does not die, but her character does. And it is at this point that we realize that John knows he's in a play. So he starts to frantically worry about the play, the audience, what should he do, he takes out his script to study it. Rebecca was not supposed to die in the original script, so he's confused and has a bit of an existential breakdown. They call the police to report the death, and then line up people at the party to get a new Rebecca to finish the play. We find out that John really wants to finish the play because there's a kiss at the end, and he is lonely and is desperate for a kiss. As they search for a new Rebecca, the characters and setting change until the end result is different from the beginning. There'll be an "intermission" when critics come on stage to critique it.
There's more to it, but that's the gist. I like it because it pushes the boundaries a bit about what can happen in a play, I think. We'll try to get the audience involved. It's not just a play you watch passively with a cohesive story, it's more. It won't be the typical theater. I think there's great potential and I'm very excited to work it through.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Friday, April 27, 2007
Untitled: Part 5 [EDITS]
Leon loosened the grip on his gun, then tightened it again to reaffirm its existence. He peered into the darkness, hoping for some sense of what was to come, but it was only a black hole. Through the rain, the lights barely affected the foliage outside the fence. He stole a brief look at his counterpart, and that's when it attacked.
Without warning, a figure jumped out of the brush. Milo fired as a knee-jerk reaction, unsure of where exactly to shoot. The figure crashed into Leon, knocking him into the mud, splashing it all around. It scratched Milo's arm, pushing him to the side. Milo held himself up against a tree and fired again.
The creature let out an agonizing yell. It stood on all fours on top of Leon, pinning his arms and legs to the ground. Leon, momentarily stunned, attempted to look at his captor. Rain poured onto his eyes, making any vision nearly impossible. He thrashed both his hands in a feeble attempt to get his gun but the creature's grip was painfully strong. It breathed in ragged breaths, seemingly unprepared for any type of resistance. A warm sensation near Leon's knee prompted him to raise his head and strain to look at it. A tiny red puddle stood out in the otherwise drab setting. The figure was bleeding.
His arm bruised, Milo stood with his gun poised and ready. His eyes darted momentarily to the fence. They had left it open. He began inching his way toward it, slowly, so as not to attract too much attention. He kept his gaze on the dark figure. Small, beady eyes stared back at him. The figure was still shrouded in darkness, but Milo was sure it was something other than human.
More rustling from the bushes caught Leon's attention. He strained to lift his head to see, but the rain and darkness were too thick. He laid his head back down, kicking up more mud and grinding it deeper into his hair, and moved his eyes around to try to see Milo. He saw him briefly, but the strain was too much.
The rustling became louder and suddenly a man burst forth from the bushes. "Milo!" his voice called. The quick distraction was enough for the creature. It lunged at Milo, who had looked towards the stranger, bringing him to the ground, then rolling on its back and thrusting him into the air. Milo landed in the courtyard, just past the fountain, with a distinct thud, his gun missing.
Leon wasted no time. He was up once the creature's pressure was released, his limbs still stinging from its force. He looked and felt in the mud as Milo flew through the air. Finally his right hand landed on the gun and he grabbed it and looked up. The creature walked into the courtyard and Leon fired, emptying the entire round.
The man ran forward as the creature fell. Leon reached out his arm and stopped him. "Stay back, dammit!"
"We have to secure the perimeter immediately," the man said. "There's more and they're coming." The man pushed past Leon, jumping over the creature.
Leon turned towards the jungle, knowing his eyes and ears were useless. All he heard was rain. "Christ," he muttered.
Without warning, a figure jumped out of the brush. Milo fired as a knee-jerk reaction, unsure of where exactly to shoot. The figure crashed into Leon, knocking him into the mud, splashing it all around. It scratched Milo's arm, pushing him to the side. Milo held himself up against a tree and fired again.
The creature let out an agonizing yell. It stood on all fours on top of Leon, pinning his arms and legs to the ground. Leon, momentarily stunned, attempted to look at his captor. Rain poured onto his eyes, making any vision nearly impossible. He thrashed both his hands in a feeble attempt to get his gun but the creature's grip was painfully strong. It breathed in ragged breaths, seemingly unprepared for any type of resistance. A warm sensation near Leon's knee prompted him to raise his head and strain to look at it. A tiny red puddle stood out in the otherwise drab setting. The figure was bleeding.
His arm bruised, Milo stood with his gun poised and ready. His eyes darted momentarily to the fence. They had left it open. He began inching his way toward it, slowly, so as not to attract too much attention. He kept his gaze on the dark figure. Small, beady eyes stared back at him. The figure was still shrouded in darkness, but Milo was sure it was something other than human.
More rustling from the bushes caught Leon's attention. He strained to lift his head to see, but the rain and darkness were too thick. He laid his head back down, kicking up more mud and grinding it deeper into his hair, and moved his eyes around to try to see Milo. He saw him briefly, but the strain was too much.
The rustling became louder and suddenly a man burst forth from the bushes. "Milo!" his voice called. The quick distraction was enough for the creature. It lunged at Milo, who had looked towards the stranger, bringing him to the ground, then rolling on its back and thrusting him into the air. Milo landed in the courtyard, just past the fountain, with a distinct thud, his gun missing.
Leon wasted no time. He was up once the creature's pressure was released, his limbs still stinging from its force. He looked and felt in the mud as Milo flew through the air. Finally his right hand landed on the gun and he grabbed it and looked up. The creature walked into the courtyard and Leon fired, emptying the entire round.
The man ran forward as the creature fell. Leon reached out his arm and stopped him. "Stay back, dammit!"
"We have to secure the perimeter immediately," the man said. "There's more and they're coming." The man pushed past Leon, jumping over the creature.
Leon turned towards the jungle, knowing his eyes and ears were useless. All he heard was rain. "Christ," he muttered.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Untitled: Parts 1-4 [EDITS]
March '07 - April '07. Expect the conclusion to be coming shortly.
The smell of rain was nauseating. For three days it had rained, drenching the entire complex, and Leon Charles was sick of it. It wasn't just the smell, but also the feel of mud conforming to the shape of his boots whenever he stepped outside; the constant patter on all surfaces, a reminder that he could not escape. Someone asked him before the storm started if he was interested in getting off the island. "No," he had replied. "There's still things to do here." Now, one of three people who were stranded until the storm ended, he regretted not bringing his raincoat.
He passed by a window and stole a brief look outside. The sun was still hidden behind dark clouds hidden behind rain drops hidden behind streaks of water on the window. He could make out the surroundings only because he had seen them so many times before. The courtyard outside was empty of people. In the middle a fountain spouted water into the air. Just behind it, hidden amongst palm fronds and small bushes, was the perimeter fence.
He walked down the stairs, still half asleep. The door to the cafeteria slid open as he approached it. As usual, it was empty. The odds of meeting the other two people were slim. Each had their own work to do, with varying hours of operation. Yesterday Leon had met one in passing in the hallway. They exchanged a friendly nod and smile, but nothing more. Their lives were completely separate.
He made himself a bowl of cereal and sat in the middle of the room. A radio played soft music over several speakers. He opened an auto magazine that he kept on the table and looked over the old articles. He had read every one already, but they helped to take him away from his work.
A half hour later he dumped the bowl into the dishwasher and left the cafeteria. On the way to his office he passed another window and looked outside, as an automatic reaction. It was different. Someone was out there.
Leon stopped just as he caught the image of a figure outside. He backed up and leaned against the window. Standing in the courtyard was a person, drenched in the rain. He stood bent, working on the fountain. He was getting sprayed from the fountain and rain.
Suddenly the man stood upright. He looked around him, in the direction of the fence. He reached towards his side for the gun Leon knew he carried. Without warning a black shape passed into the courtyard. Leon, startled, backed away from the window, but only for a moment. When he returned, the man and shape were gone.
"Oh shit," Leon whispered to himself. He wasted no time. He ran for the nearest exit.
By the time Leon reached the courtyard he was out of breath. He paused at the the doorway, looking through the raindrops to the open fence. He thought about sounding the alarm, but reasoned that he could deal with this problem without the need for any trouble. No help could come, anyway, and it would only cause panic.
He took a cautious step into the rain and immediately shivered. The rain and air were cold. After the initial shock, he wasted no time, and moved quickly to the fence. He reached it and stared blindly into the forest beyond. There was no hope of seeing the man unless he had stayed nearby. He hadn't. Leon closed the fence, locked it, and started back. In a minute he was inside, behind another locked door, safe. But he had to tell someone about what had just happened, in case there was an adverse effect.
He first went to the cafeteria, but it was empty, his magazine the lone occupant. Next he sped down the hall, in the opposite direction of his office, dripping water down the hallway. His shoes squeaked in an otherwise quiet environment. He passed several doors and finally stopped at one. The named outside read "Milo Cervantes." Beneath it, "Systems Manager." Leon knocked. He heard a voice come faintly through the door. "Come in."
Leon turned the doorknob and slowly opened the door. It creaked, obviously aged, in contrast to the rest of the facility. Milo sat across from the door, at a desk, watching a muted TV. The lighting was low and the glow of the TV illuminated Milo's face. It was middle-aged, bearded, short hair, piercing eyes.
"Shut it," Milo said, not unkind, without turning to face Leon. Leon obeyed. Once the door was shut, Milo turned to him. "Now, tell me, what's going on?"
"Something's entered the perimeter," Leon responded quickly. His gaze never left Milo's, for fear of the potential result.
"You saw it happen?"
"Yes."
"Then we've no time to lose." Milo was quick to act. In one swift motion the TV was off, he pulled a jacket over himself, and grabbed two guns from a drawer. He threw one in Leon's direction. "You know how to use it?"
Leon took a moment to think. "Of course. It's part of the training."
"Good, come on." Milo moved past Leon to the door. "You'll need your coat."
"I'm not going back out there. I've heard of what's through that fence."
Milo stopped at the door, his hand on the knob. He turned slowly. The dim overhead light casted shadows over his eyes, making dark holes. "And what do you think it is?"
Leon started to speak, then stopped. He had heard the stories from older members of his crew. No one could properly explain the phenomenon that occurred outside the protected area. Few of the surviving members currently working had had direct experience with it. Most of the stories were several decades old. No employee of the past twenty years would have thought about leaving the fence without proper protection and transport.
Milo stepped towards Leon and stood in front of him, their eyes staring at each other. "You don't come with me now, and whatever the hell you think is out there, will come in here...And then we'll have a bigger problem."
Milo turned quickly and opened the door. "And grab a coat. It's pouring," he said as he passed through the doorway, leaving Leon momentarily paralyzed.
Leon followed Milo to the exit to the courtyard. Milo paused at the door and checked his gun, then turned to Leon, sizing him up.
"No coat," Leon explained.
"Of course," Milo replied.
Milo opened the door and Leon shivered as the cold air rushed in. It brought with it the smell and feel he had come so accustomed to. It still sickened him. As Milo went out, he pulled the hood over his head. Amongst the sound of the patter on leaves and concrete came the additional patter on plastic.
Leon shut the door behind him and braced for the rain. He stepped forward into it, straining to see anything in the wet haze.
Milo lead them to the perimeter fence. It was still shut and locked. Milo looked to Leon. "You ready?" Leon nodded. Milo gripped the handle, turned it, and swung the door open. He and Leon stepped back for a moment, then stood in the entrance way, guns poised and ready. Leon gripped the pistol as tightly as he could in the rain.
The two stood there, staring into the jungle. Leon suddenly heard a noise, a rustling of leaves and branches. Without changing his focus, he whispered to Milo. "You hear that?"
"Yeah..."
Leon squinted, trying to see through the rain. The rustling became louder, and closer.
The smell of rain was nauseating. For three days it had rained, drenching the entire complex, and Leon Charles was sick of it. It wasn't just the smell, but also the feel of mud conforming to the shape of his boots whenever he stepped outside; the constant patter on all surfaces, a reminder that he could not escape. Someone asked him before the storm started if he was interested in getting off the island. "No," he had replied. "There's still things to do here." Now, one of three people who were stranded until the storm ended, he regretted not bringing his raincoat.
He passed by a window and stole a brief look outside. The sun was still hidden behind dark clouds hidden behind rain drops hidden behind streaks of water on the window. He could make out the surroundings only because he had seen them so many times before. The courtyard outside was empty of people. In the middle a fountain spouted water into the air. Just behind it, hidden amongst palm fronds and small bushes, was the perimeter fence.
He walked down the stairs, still half asleep. The door to the cafeteria slid open as he approached it. As usual, it was empty. The odds of meeting the other two people were slim. Each had their own work to do, with varying hours of operation. Yesterday Leon had met one in passing in the hallway. They exchanged a friendly nod and smile, but nothing more. Their lives were completely separate.
He made himself a bowl of cereal and sat in the middle of the room. A radio played soft music over several speakers. He opened an auto magazine that he kept on the table and looked over the old articles. He had read every one already, but they helped to take him away from his work.
A half hour later he dumped the bowl into the dishwasher and left the cafeteria. On the way to his office he passed another window and looked outside, as an automatic reaction. It was different. Someone was out there.
Leon stopped just as he caught the image of a figure outside. He backed up and leaned against the window. Standing in the courtyard was a person, drenched in the rain. He stood bent, working on the fountain. He was getting sprayed from the fountain and rain.
Suddenly the man stood upright. He looked around him, in the direction of the fence. He reached towards his side for the gun Leon knew he carried. Without warning a black shape passed into the courtyard. Leon, startled, backed away from the window, but only for a moment. When he returned, the man and shape were gone.
"Oh shit," Leon whispered to himself. He wasted no time. He ran for the nearest exit.
By the time Leon reached the courtyard he was out of breath. He paused at the the doorway, looking through the raindrops to the open fence. He thought about sounding the alarm, but reasoned that he could deal with this problem without the need for any trouble. No help could come, anyway, and it would only cause panic.
He took a cautious step into the rain and immediately shivered. The rain and air were cold. After the initial shock, he wasted no time, and moved quickly to the fence. He reached it and stared blindly into the forest beyond. There was no hope of seeing the man unless he had stayed nearby. He hadn't. Leon closed the fence, locked it, and started back. In a minute he was inside, behind another locked door, safe. But he had to tell someone about what had just happened, in case there was an adverse effect.
He first went to the cafeteria, but it was empty, his magazine the lone occupant. Next he sped down the hall, in the opposite direction of his office, dripping water down the hallway. His shoes squeaked in an otherwise quiet environment. He passed several doors and finally stopped at one. The named outside read "Milo Cervantes." Beneath it, "Systems Manager." Leon knocked. He heard a voice come faintly through the door. "Come in."
Leon turned the doorknob and slowly opened the door. It creaked, obviously aged, in contrast to the rest of the facility. Milo sat across from the door, at a desk, watching a muted TV. The lighting was low and the glow of the TV illuminated Milo's face. It was middle-aged, bearded, short hair, piercing eyes.
"Shut it," Milo said, not unkind, without turning to face Leon. Leon obeyed. Once the door was shut, Milo turned to him. "Now, tell me, what's going on?"
"Something's entered the perimeter," Leon responded quickly. His gaze never left Milo's, for fear of the potential result.
"You saw it happen?"
"Yes."
"Then we've no time to lose." Milo was quick to act. In one swift motion the TV was off, he pulled a jacket over himself, and grabbed two guns from a drawer. He threw one in Leon's direction. "You know how to use it?"
Leon took a moment to think. "Of course. It's part of the training."
"Good, come on." Milo moved past Leon to the door. "You'll need your coat."
"I'm not going back out there. I've heard of what's through that fence."
Milo stopped at the door, his hand on the knob. He turned slowly. The dim overhead light casted shadows over his eyes, making dark holes. "And what do you think it is?"
Leon started to speak, then stopped. He had heard the stories from older members of his crew. No one could properly explain the phenomenon that occurred outside the protected area. Few of the surviving members currently working had had direct experience with it. Most of the stories were several decades old. No employee of the past twenty years would have thought about leaving the fence without proper protection and transport.
Milo stepped towards Leon and stood in front of him, their eyes staring at each other. "You don't come with me now, and whatever the hell you think is out there, will come in here...And then we'll have a bigger problem."
Milo turned quickly and opened the door. "And grab a coat. It's pouring," he said as he passed through the doorway, leaving Leon momentarily paralyzed.
Leon followed Milo to the exit to the courtyard. Milo paused at the door and checked his gun, then turned to Leon, sizing him up.
"No coat," Leon explained.
"Of course," Milo replied.
Milo opened the door and Leon shivered as the cold air rushed in. It brought with it the smell and feel he had come so accustomed to. It still sickened him. As Milo went out, he pulled the hood over his head. Amongst the sound of the patter on leaves and concrete came the additional patter on plastic.
Leon shut the door behind him and braced for the rain. He stepped forward into it, straining to see anything in the wet haze.
Milo lead them to the perimeter fence. It was still shut and locked. Milo looked to Leon. "You ready?" Leon nodded. Milo gripped the handle, turned it, and swung the door open. He and Leon stepped back for a moment, then stood in the entrance way, guns poised and ready. Leon gripped the pistol as tightly as he could in the rain.
The two stood there, staring into the jungle. Leon suddenly heard a noise, a rustling of leaves and branches. Without changing his focus, he whispered to Milo. "You hear that?"
"Yeah..."
Leon squinted, trying to see through the rain. The rustling became louder, and closer.
Purpose
I already have a journal (goldh37.livejournal.com) that was originally used specifically to write about new ideas I had. It has started to veer away from that goal, so I have created this blog. It will be specifically involving fiction and poetry that I have written, or ideas that I am working out. Some may be thought out and some may be stream of conscious.
Please comment if you have any positive or negative feedback.
Thank you,
Harrison
Please comment if you have any positive or negative feedback.
Thank you,
Harrison
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