ALWAYS BE WRITING

ALWAYS BE WRITING.
A- Always
B- Be
W- Writing



It's as simple as that. I think the only advice I've been given over the years- and I've been given it in almost the exact wording from many people, including Taft Miller and Tom Wolfe- is "keep writing".
Amen, namaste, yippee-ay-yo, and all that. I don't know why, exactly, but writing is necessary for my soul. Feeds it. Fuels it. Makes it feel good.

Maybe it's just my ego, and my need to say "look at me and what I think!"

Maybe it's destiny.

I don't really care.

All I know is that when I write, I feel better about myself and the world. Not that both I and the world don't need work, help, and fixing. We do. But somehow, I feel much more hopeful about fixing what needs to get fixed, connecting to what needs to be connected to, when I write.

Like right now. As I sit here, writing this, I feel like I am doing what I am meant to be doing.

Yes, that could just be me assigning meaning where there is none, magic thinking, and blah blah blah. If that is the case, so be it. I still feel a sense of well being from the act, and that in and of itself is reason enough to continue.

My father loved to write, but he always had to self-deprecate and call it "scribbling". I think maybe he felt guilty about the pleasure writing gave him. I don't know, and can't ask him now since he has gone to the great Elsewhere, but that's my sense.

Anyway.

I am working on several writing projects at the moment. And submitting like mad. A big part of a writer's life is submitting your work to strangers and then waiting for either a form letter of rejection, or a phone call saying "wow". Most of the time you get the former.

What am I working on, you ask? Well, there's April's Fool- which has been submitted to many places, most recently FringeNYC. And there's also Ghostlight, a screenplay that I wrote a while back and had my film students read out loud- and based on their very positive reaction I've decided to jump back into the waters, and tweak it a bit, and also film the first scene and then see what happens. And I am very very very very very close to finally finishing my short film Strong Tea, which has been in post-production for almost as long as the US has been in Afghanistan.

I hope to have more writing to share with you soon. I you can't wait for my new stuff, go buy one of my plays- either at IndieTheatreNow, or Playscripts.  Until then, here is a tiny segement from Ghostlight. Enjoy.

INT. BLACKFORD HIGH SCHOOL THEATRE - NIGHT

The theatre is empty, the only light a lamp in the middle of the stage. FOOTSTEPS AND WHISPERED VOICES approach. A KEY TURNS IN A LOCK. A DOOR CREAKS open. Behind it, a group of high school kids, ready to party. MILTON, a brainiac freshman, nervously points a FLAHSLIGHT into the theatre. RAY, the school rebel, pushes past Milton into the theatre, twelve pack of BEER in his hand. 

RAY

Lock and load!

He tosses a beer to NOEL, the class clown.

NOEL

My ninja!

TRINA, a pretty red head, laughs. The group walks in.  Ray tosses a beer to MAGGIE, Milton’s smart and sexy older sister.

MILTON

(shocked) Maggie!

MAGGIE

What?  

Noel grabs Milton’s flashlight, shines it on himself, and starts making faces. GROANS, LAUGHTER, “Loser!” ETC.

NOEL

I am the ghost of Bloody Bones!

He HOWLS. Two girls, MARNA and CECILY, giggle.  

  

MILTON

It’s not funny!

NOEL

I am the ghost of Bloody Bones, and I am walking into the theatre!

Noel FREEZES IN TERROR,  points over Rays shoulder.

NOEL (CONT’D)

Ray- look out!

Marna and Cecily SCREAM. Trina LAUGHS. Ray doesn't flinch.

RAY

Hilarious.

Unseen in the audience, LENNY- the school janitor who has been sleeping behind some chairs- sits up. 

LENNY

Morons.

Lenny takes the last swig from a bottle of whiskey, lays back down, and immediately passes out.

MILTON

Actually, Bloody Bones is an old Scottish legend. He was skinned alive, and roams the highlands seeking new skin.

Everyone stares at Milton. MAGGIE hangs her head, embarrassed. DANA, sophomore drama geek, looks scared.   

DANA

N-N- New skin?

MILTON

You could tell his victims from the lack thereof.

DANA

Lack there of?

MILTON

He'd peel them like grapes, and leave the carcass for the birds.

DANA

(shudders) That’s disgusting.

MILTON

Indeed.

NOEL

Sweet!

Milton notices everyone is listening, smiles sheepishly.

RAY

Nobody’s interested in a lecture on Captain Bloody Butt-

MILTON

Bones.

RAY

What?

MILTON

His name- it’s Bloody Bones.  

RAY

Whatever- we’re here to party- not to talk about Bloody Butt.

Milton turns to Maggie, confused.

MILTON

Maggie you said we were all here to practice our monologues for the upcoming auditions.

Maggie glares at Ray.

MAGGIE

Milton, why don't you get some candles?

MILTON

Sure.

Milton sullenly runs towards the prop room.

NOEL

Lack thereof.

Marna giggles. Noel smiles at her. Ray notices this.

RAY

What we need is some atmosphere.

Ray steps to lamp, reaches for the switch.

MILTON

Don’t turn off the ghostlight!

Ray stops, turns to Milton.

RAY

The what?

MILTON

A theatre in the dark is a dangerous place. 

Trina howls with laughter. Ray winks at Maggie.

RAY

Danger's my middle name, baby.

MILTON

Be that as it may, you don't turn the ghostlight off-

NOEL

Why’s it called the ghostlight?

MILTON

All theatres are haunted- full of shadows and ghosts and things that go bump in the night-

RAY

I got something that goes bump in the night.

Noel and several others shush Ray.

MILTON

There are rules in the theatre. And you don’t break them. 

RAY

Rules?

MILTON

Never turn off the ghostlight. Never whistle backstage. 

MILTON (CONT’D)

(growing excited) This is sacred ground...can’t you feel it?

RAY

No.

MILTON

You’re clearly not a thespian.

RAY

Clearly.

MILTON

Every theatre has a ghostlight, to keep the spirits out.

Trina takes a step towards Milton, fascinated.

TRINA  

What do they want?

EMMY, a cute freshmen who likes Milton and is jealous that Trina is paying attention to him, steps forward.

EMMY

Yeah, what do they want, Milton?

MILTON

Oh, uh...some think it's the ghosts of actors, not ready for their final exit- a theatre to a ghost is like fire to a moth- it draws them in.

Trina looks Milton in the eyes and smiles. Milton blushes, not sure what to do. 

RAY

Oh no!

Ray turns off the ghost light, plunging the theatre into DARKNESS.  Milton SCREAMS. Everyone LAUGHS.