MEET THE BRIDE

So. Many things going on in my life. Which is how I like it. I am working on a pilot for a show. Working title: Boogie Man. It's a paranormal series loosely connected to another project I am working on about Edgar Cayce. The pilot should be done soon, and sent to some folks who might be able to do something with it.

I would love to hear what folks think, so below is a sample scene. Please, comment on it, tell me you love it; you hate it; that it reminded you of a childhood experience. I am ready for all slings and arrows.  

Just read it.

I title my scenes, as well as episodes. This one is called Meet the Bride.

EXT. CAMP SITE IN THE FOREST - EARLY MORNING

A hip young family are preparing breakfast on their up to date camping gear, dressed perfectly. Beautiful young MOTHER gathers dead wood for the fire, while FATHER makes healthy breakfast. Their three children run around the camp site playing tag.

MOTHER

Is running around like that a good choice? Why don’t you take in nature and its beauty?

The three kids- SCOUT, 9; WYATT, 7; and WENDY, 5- look at Mother like she’s nuts. Father, who is stirring eggs in a bowl, looks over from camping stove.

FATHER

I need some sous-chefs to help with this scramble. Scout, you strip the thyme. Wyatt, go fill the water filter.

Wendy waits for her job. None is assigned.

WENDY

What about me?

MOTHER

Why don’t you get out some water colors and paint what you see?

Wendy frowns at this idea, but walks to her tent to get the water colors anyway.

MOTHER (CONT’D)

And zip up your new coat. It’s cold.

WENDY

I don’t want to.

MOTHER

Duly noted. Now zip.

Wendy sullenly zips up her coat, mutters to herself.

WENDY

I hate this coat.

Wendy trudges towards her tent. A rabbit pops out of the brush, crosses her path, and disappears up a trail. Excited, Wendy runs after it. Before either parent notices, Wyatt drops the water filter. It hits a rock and shatters.

MOTHER

God damn it, Wyatt!

Scout turns quickly from stripping the thyme to see what has happened, knocking over the bowl with the eggs in it.

FATHER

Scout!

Wendy runs down the trail after the rabbit.

EXT. ABOVE THE FALLS - MINUTES LATER

An outcropping of rock above Cumberland Falls. The rabbit from previous scene runs out of the woods, vanishes up a path. After a beat, Wendy runs out of the woods. She looks left and right. The rabbit is nowhere to be seen.

Wendy notices the edge of the cliff overlooking the falls, is immediately entranced. She walks to the edge, looks over. It is a long drop to the water below. Wendy picks up a rock and drops it over the edge of the cliff. The rock disappears into the mist of the falls.

 
This delights her. She looks around for other things to throw. She hurls another rock. She unzips her coat, breaks a twig off a bush throws it over the cliff. Then she sees some wild flowers, pulls up a bunch, and tosses them one by one.

Wendy suddenly gets a wicked idea, and takes off her coat, but before she can throw it over the cliff, a shadow crosses her path.

Wendy turns to see the BRIDE standing just a few feet from her. The Bride stares at Wendy with a look of deep sorrow.

WENDY

Hello.

The Bride continues to stare at Wendy. The Bride’s gaze falls on Wendy’s coat. Wendy notices this.

WENDY (CONT’D)

I wasn’t going to throw it.

The Bride continues to stare.

WENDY (CONT’D)

Please don’t tell my mom.

The Bride steps up to Wendy, looking confused. Wendy takes the Bride’s hand.

WENDY (CONT’D)

Want to throw stuff into the water?

Wendy leads the Bride to some flowers, picks a few, hands one to the Bride, then Wendy runs to the edge of the cliff.

WENDY (CONT’D)

It’s fun.

Wendy throws her flowers over the cliff, turns back to the Bride.

WENDY (CONT’D)

See?

The Bride walks to Wendy, falls to her knees, begins to weep.

WENDY (CONT’D)

Don’t cry. They’re just flowers.

The Bride grabs Wendy in a fierce hug, lifting her off the ground, walks to the edge of the cliff.
Wendy, still in the Bride’s arms, looks down to the falls.

WENDY (CONT’D)

Isn’t it pretty?

The expression on the Bride’s face changes from sorrow to determination. She places Wendy back on the ground, walks to the very edge of the cliff, smiles at Wendy, then slowly leans backwards, falling over the cliff into the falls below.

Wendy cautiously makes her way to the edge of the cliff and looks over.

All she can see is the roaring waterfall, fierce and magnificent.

Wendy turns away from the falls.

The Bride is standing at the edge of the woods, just as before, staring at Wendy.

 

 

That's it. I hope you dig it.

I AM A MYSTIC IN TRAINING

I think the universe leads me around the planet, and I happen upon certain things- pieces of music, people, events- at appointed times. Well, maybe not appointed, like "on March 1, 2013 at 10:15 am, while walking his dog Padfoot, he will hear a song on his Hawk and a Handsaw station on Pandora that will inspire him to write a scene between Jaypes and Norn as a hot dog vendor ala Ignatius from Confederacy of Dunces", but more like there are all these secret doorways to insight and spiritual tranquility that have are set all around the universe, and if I want to follow a certain path, achieve some sort of destiny, I need to find those doorways, those hidden Easter Eggs on the DVD of me. Maybe life is like whatever algorithm Pandora uses to figure out what music we would like, and the choices we make lead us to logical places. I read a book when I'm in fourth grade that turns me on to Norse mythology, which leads me to read other books on myths and fate, and over the years I accumulate all this seemingly useless knowledge, trivia really- until one day I write a play with Hela in it, which leads to another play with Hel and Raven in it, which leads to yet another play with the three Norns smashed into one character in it.

I really don't know, and I suppose in the grand scheme of things, and in the not so grand as well, it doesn't really matter. As Popeye, famous one-eyed sailor and lover of spinach would proclaim, I am what I am, whether by choice or fate, and all I can do it live my life as well as I can, try to find some sort of moral compass- be it part of natural law or of human construct.

Which is a long winded way of saying I am feeling connected to the world at this particular moment in time. I feel as if I am doing what I should be doing with myself in order to live the life I want to live. And a huge part of that is because I am happy with my latest play. At the same time, there is a loneliness when writing something- a feeling like no one else can see this brave new world coming to life in your brain, or alternate universe, or where ever it is that stories live.  Still, it's quite euphoric being me right now. And this feeling of well being urges me further- not only to work on the new show (working title: Don't Get Too Comfy, Pal), but to finally finish post-production of Strong Tea, get to work on a screenplay idea I have that mashes up the story of Edgar Cayce with all those reality/paranormal shows on cable these days, clean up Rose Red- which is having another production this June in Boulder and possibly more in Ohio and California- and on and on. Nothing inspires like inspiration.

Right now, I'm rewriting and rewriting and then rewriting Don't Get Too Comfy, Pal. At the same time, the first draft is being read and judged by the good people at the Fine Arts Center in Colorado Springs as an entrant in their Rough Writers event. So I want all of you to face Colorado Springs from wherever you are, and send a telepathic command to whomever is reading the play, telling them to put it in the festival.

I am fairly certain I am hoping to become, or already am, a mystic.

SABRINA

So now that we’re in, what’s the plan?

AHAB

Grab the pinball machine Dickhead gave her, throw it out the window, and escape into the night!