I want to write a screenplay. As I reflect over the past couple of weeks, when I’ve had so much time to write, it’s clear to me that I can never stop, whether I continue this way or find a bigger audience. Fulfilling some of my goals just as the year ends has refreshed me, showed me that I CAN do it, and more importantly, that the time is now, when I have few obligations. I have to make a promise to myself to write every day, no matter what or where it is.
Now for the screenplay. The idea first weaved its way into my brain months ago when I was talking to my friend, a producer just starting her business, about movies we enjoyed and her dream of making a documentary. And now, I can think of nothing better than making a movie myself (no, I have no idea how to make films, but I’ll figure it out). So here are a few basic elements it should include:
- A strong female protagonist (alongside other female characters, because we just don’t have enough of them in movies)
- Lots of those late afternoon ultralight shots indie movies favor so much
- an element of the mythological, or set in the past/future
- quests-every good movie has a quest
- fantastic music (kind of a given, but I needed to round it out with 5)
I welcome any and all film-worthy suggestions.
A big thank you to my new friends at inkposts for featuring one of my poems!
But it’s beginning to feel like the only thing I could do.
I sense choppy seas ahead.
There are things
that grab in the night
things that hunt and gleam
They latch onto skeins of thought
left loose above bodies off guard
like heavy, clumsy spiders
and live in a field of doubt
populated by wild
flowers without bees
There must be a resemblance of the divine
in the way our memories are fashioned.
Like shoulders cut off
that high-low feeling:
of a body pushing breath
through its weak posts
If I could name the color she wears it would be lip stitch red, like a kabuki girl’s. It would be richer than anything and bright. In a glass room, I will ask her what she would want with a dress like that, and eye the crowd like a veteran. She will say that she can have what she wants here, beneath so many polished hands. I won’t question her. Four days later we will meet again. I will crawl up to the rooftop for a smoke and this time she will be behind me. I will offer her one because there is nothing else to do. She will decline. We will sit, watching each other. The building won’t be very tall so the traffic noise will invade the available space. She will open her mouth, collecting careful syllables, but I breathe out deeply and drown her intention. She will tilt her head. I will swallow. I will look down and turn away from the sounds that don’t come from us. I will walk steadily to the staircase to kill my luck.
Oh hello Andrew Jackson. Just found this
and I’m taking it as a good sign of things to come.
Today I’m featured over at my good friend’s book review blog! Check it out: http://toppersbooks.wordpress.com/2013/10/28/gone-girl-guest-post/