So hey, remember back in early March when I mentioned that my friend Jake and I were trying to write a screenplay? No? Whaddaya mean, no? How could you have forgotten?
Well, I just thought I would give an update. We're just about done with the first draft, we just have to put the last couple scenes down on the page. It's at about 110 pages right now, and it's probably going to wind up just around 120 which I guess is the standard for a feature length script.
It really feels like we've been working on this thing for goddamn ever. I expected it would, as I have no previous experience writing screenplays and Jake has never written anything this long before. We've also been getting together to work on it for a few hours every week or two, and most of that time has been spent goofing around rather than actually writing. It's also pretty hard to write something as a team. Jake is the only one with a copy of the screenwriting program, so while he can work on it in his free time I have to meet with him to add anything. It's been a slow process.
What's weird is that it seems like everytime I read an interview with a screenwriter, they're saying something like "I wrote it in a single draft in four days." I suppose it's possible, but I'm always a little skeptical. I mean, Jake and I are just writing a silly comedy, and it took weeks and weeks to figure out a cohesive plot. We only just now figured out how it's going to end. I can't imagine writing something that long in a matter of days, let alone something that's good.
Our plans for the script are still pretty limited. I don't really have any expectations of selling it or having it made into an actual movie. I wouldn't know what to do if I did. We still plan on submitting it to the screenwriting fellowship thing put on by IFP and the McKnight Foundation, but a close look at the rules revealed a slight hitch. In order for a screenplay to be considered, the author(s) need to meet the criteria. They need to either (a) have already had a feature-length screenplay optioned for production, (b) have at least three feature-length screenplays copyrighted or registered with the Writers Guild of America, or (c) have a degree in screenwriting from an accredited institution. Jake has the screenwriting degree, but I currently have none of these.
The easiest way for me to meet the criteria would be to hammer out three quick screenplays (a la the writers who can write one in 4 days) and register them with the WGA. It costs $20 to register something, so that's $60 dropped on junk that I would just crap out as quickly as possible. In the face of a $25,000 prize that's nothing, but I do not have super high hopes for winning (I don't even know if they would consider a comedy in any esteem). The other option would be to have Jake submit it by himself. He would still split the money with me if we won, but I would receive no credit for my work. I think I'd rather pay the $60 to register three quick screenplays.
The application deadline isn't until February, so we still have a lot of time to work on the second draft and figure out how we will apply. And who knows, maybe we can figure out some improbable way to sell it to someone for a big pile of cash.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
Popsicle Weather
It was a nice day, good and hot, real popsicle weather. The ice cream truck had just passed through, and I was out in the street doing my trick for some of the kids in the neighborhood as they sat on the curb with their melting hands, you know the trick where I sort of hover a little bit off the ground.
I was maybe five or six inches off the ground, just enough to draw a few wow!s, I didn't want to strain myself. But it was such a nice day. The sky was so nice and blue, and there was just one nice cloud, a nice big white puffball floating in circles, so close I wanted to touch it, to take it home and put a collar on it. Idon'tknowwhy, but I really had my eye on that cloud, and off I went.
One little boy screamed as I started floating higher, making another little boy giggle. One of my favorites, Hunter, and his terrible sister, Heidi, heard the little boy's scream and made a funny game of crying and bellowing like they had never seen me do my trick before, sending all the other kids into similar fits of mock terror and laughter. I too laughed along with all of their yelp!s and squeal!s as I rose, deciding to take it slowly, really building the suspense as I ascended to the sky. My toes were tingling from the effort, but I wiggled them back to life.
I was maybe 25 feet off the ground, and I decided to stop and take a breather. I closed my eyes and crossed my legs, stretched my arms out, letting my head and hands go slack, Jesus on the Cross. I heard one of the kids shout in anger, then opened my eyes to see him running to his house. He came back out a moment later with his mom, pointing. I knew the kid, Barry. Little Barry Rutger. Fairy Barry, they called him. His mom always made poundcake for 4th of July and passed out leaflets at Easter. One of the older kids came outside with a B.B. gun, so went up a bit higher. 30 feet now. Easily in range, but there was a bit of a breeze, so.
I could see into backyards now, sprinklers and grease fires and laundry lines. Back behind 4314 I could see Velvet Ann clothespinning a big yellow sheet while sipping on a can of beer. She was wearing blue blue denims rolled up to her knees and a red red blouse, cinched up just below her breasts. I floated higher still as I watched her take another big yellow sheet from her basket. If only I could zoom down to her, if I could grab her and take her with me, but I wasn't asking for trouble. My puffball cloud couldn't wait. A quick glance upwards showed that my cloud had darkened, frowning at me now, and was raining even, hard down on Fairy Barry and his mother, the kids in the street, everything below.
A man came out Velvet Ann's back door, handsome in overalls dark and greasy, I looked at the front yard to see the car he had been working on up on blocks. She didn't notice him until he crept up, slow and pinched her. She dropped her beer and the sheet slipped, quick to the ground. The man laughed, a free bouncing chuckle, a good summer laugh. Velvet Ann pushed him, hard to the ground. She stepped forward, stood over him, one hand on one hip. She waited, the man propped up on his elbows and looking at her. His mouth moved, but I couldn't hear. Velvet Ann uncinched her red red blouse, pulled it off and let it fall, slow to the ground.
I was almost 50 feet up now, having drifted unconsciously. Small crack!s and pop!s from the B.B. guns cut through the whistling of the elevated breeze. I looked up for my round little cloud, my perfect summer prize. In the meantime it had drifted apart, dissolving into five separate shapes, a cherry, a wink, an ice cream cone, a puzzle peice, an Idon'tknowwhat. I brought my heels together, straightened my back, one hand before me, the other stretched to the clouds, Jesus on the Mount. I floated higher and higher until the ground mixed and blurred.
I was maybe five or six inches off the ground, just enough to draw a few wow!s, I didn't want to strain myself. But it was such a nice day. The sky was so nice and blue, and there was just one nice cloud, a nice big white puffball floating in circles, so close I wanted to touch it, to take it home and put a collar on it. Idon'tknowwhy, but I really had my eye on that cloud, and off I went.
One little boy screamed as I started floating higher, making another little boy giggle. One of my favorites, Hunter, and his terrible sister, Heidi, heard the little boy's scream and made a funny game of crying and bellowing like they had never seen me do my trick before, sending all the other kids into similar fits of mock terror and laughter. I too laughed along with all of their yelp!s and squeal!s as I rose, deciding to take it slowly, really building the suspense as I ascended to the sky. My toes were tingling from the effort, but I wiggled them back to life.
I was maybe 25 feet off the ground, and I decided to stop and take a breather. I closed my eyes and crossed my legs, stretched my arms out, letting my head and hands go slack, Jesus on the Cross. I heard one of the kids shout in anger, then opened my eyes to see him running to his house. He came back out a moment later with his mom, pointing. I knew the kid, Barry. Little Barry Rutger. Fairy Barry, they called him. His mom always made poundcake for 4th of July and passed out leaflets at Easter. One of the older kids came outside with a B.B. gun, so went up a bit higher. 30 feet now. Easily in range, but there was a bit of a breeze, so.
I could see into backyards now, sprinklers and grease fires and laundry lines. Back behind 4314 I could see Velvet Ann clothespinning a big yellow sheet while sipping on a can of beer. She was wearing blue blue denims rolled up to her knees and a red red blouse, cinched up just below her breasts. I floated higher still as I watched her take another big yellow sheet from her basket. If only I could zoom down to her, if I could grab her and take her with me, but I wasn't asking for trouble. My puffball cloud couldn't wait. A quick glance upwards showed that my cloud had darkened, frowning at me now, and was raining even, hard down on Fairy Barry and his mother, the kids in the street, everything below.
A man came out Velvet Ann's back door, handsome in overalls dark and greasy, I looked at the front yard to see the car he had been working on up on blocks. She didn't notice him until he crept up, slow and pinched her. She dropped her beer and the sheet slipped, quick to the ground. The man laughed, a free bouncing chuckle, a good summer laugh. Velvet Ann pushed him, hard to the ground. She stepped forward, stood over him, one hand on one hip. She waited, the man propped up on his elbows and looking at her. His mouth moved, but I couldn't hear. Velvet Ann uncinched her red red blouse, pulled it off and let it fall, slow to the ground.
I was almost 50 feet up now, having drifted unconsciously. Small crack!s and pop!s from the B.B. guns cut through the whistling of the elevated breeze. I looked up for my round little cloud, my perfect summer prize. In the meantime it had drifted apart, dissolving into five separate shapes, a cherry, a wink, an ice cream cone, a puzzle peice, an Idon'tknowwhat. I brought my heels together, straightened my back, one hand before me, the other stretched to the clouds, Jesus on the Mount. I floated higher and higher until the ground mixed and blurred.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
On American traditions and British bands
HI EVERYBODY!!!!!!!! HI HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I hope you all had a safe and relaxing 4th of July weekend. And when I say safe and relaxing, I obviously mean that I hope you blew up as much crap as possible using dangerous illegal fireworks. Because that's what it's all about, really. Buying a whole bunch of explosives that are made in China and given aggressively patriotic names like BOSTON TEA PARTY and VETERANS SALUTE. Even better are the fireworks given military names. Honestly, what goes through the minds of the Chinese factory workers as they afix the labels to SPECIAL FORCES ASSAULT and WAR BIRDS?
But really, I had very nice 4th. I went up to my cabin where there was a big family gathering, including one of my mom's distant cousins who flew in with her family all the way from Norway. And yes, we blew stuff up.
On an unrelated topic, I went to see The Heavy play at the Fine Line Cafe last night and it was awesome. They played two full sets, basically their entire first album and a ton of songs from the new one coming out in October. Great value for an $8 ticket.
But as fantastic as the show was (it was great), the most fun part might have been talking to the band about videogames and soccer on the patio between sets. According to the bass player, Pro Evolution Soccer games are much better than FIFA games. I disagree, mostly just because I like having authentic player names, but he's certainly entitled to his opinion. They invited my friends and I to have a drink with them after the show, but then afterwards it turned out they were more interested in having a drink with a bunch of very attractive ladies. Fair enough, Heavy.
I hope you all had a safe and relaxing 4th of July weekend. And when I say safe and relaxing, I obviously mean that I hope you blew up as much crap as possible using dangerous illegal fireworks. Because that's what it's all about, really. Buying a whole bunch of explosives that are made in China and given aggressively patriotic names like BOSTON TEA PARTY and VETERANS SALUTE. Even better are the fireworks given military names. Honestly, what goes through the minds of the Chinese factory workers as they afix the labels to SPECIAL FORCES ASSAULT and WAR BIRDS?
"These powerful names truly represent the awesome power of the American military complex, so we had better stay away from Taiwan or risk the sight of a U.S. Navy battlegroup once more patrolling our coast!"Yeah, that's probably how it goes. U-S-A! U-S-A!
But really, I had very nice 4th. I went up to my cabin where there was a big family gathering, including one of my mom's distant cousins who flew in with her family all the way from Norway. And yes, we blew stuff up.
On an unrelated topic, I went to see The Heavy play at the Fine Line Cafe last night and it was awesome. They played two full sets, basically their entire first album and a ton of songs from the new one coming out in October. Great value for an $8 ticket.
But as fantastic as the show was (it was great), the most fun part might have been talking to the band about videogames and soccer on the patio between sets. According to the bass player, Pro Evolution Soccer games are much better than FIFA games. I disagree, mostly just because I like having authentic player names, but he's certainly entitled to his opinion. They invited my friends and I to have a drink with them after the show, but then afterwards it turned out they were more interested in having a drink with a bunch of very attractive ladies. Fair enough, Heavy.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
On yet another engagement
Hey everybody! Great news! The other day my sister got engaged to her longtime boyfriend! I'm super excited for them, they're great kids.
I wrote something back in February about how everyone I know seems to be getting married these days. It's like a freakin' epidemic around me now! And it's spreading! My status as a hopeless bachelor is keeping me immune, but the CDC has confirmed that I am a carrier and is recommending total quarantine until they can identify patient zero. Stay back or it'll get you too!
But really, I'm all for it. I want as many chances as I can get to use my "thank god I own a suit what with these weddings all the time" tag.
I anticipate the wedding looking something like this.
I wrote something back in February about how everyone I know seems to be getting married these days. It's like a freakin' epidemic around me now! And it's spreading! My status as a hopeless bachelor is keeping me immune, but the CDC has confirmed that I am a carrier and is recommending total quarantine until they can identify patient zero. Stay back or it'll get you too!
But really, I'm all for it. I want as many chances as I can get to use my "thank god I own a suit what with these weddings all the time" tag.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Law and Order: Spebector Unit
*DUN DUN*
My House,Uptown Minneapolis,
10:24 PM
So there I was last night, minding my own business, watching a little Law & Order in my kitchen while drinking some chocolate milk. It was a pretty stupid episode, something about a porn star getting killed over a book deal. I don't know if this makes me a huge nerd or what, but I was more interested in the fact that it dealt with book deals than that it was about a murdered porn star. But before they even made the arrest, I heard a noise coming from my back yard out by the garage.
*DUN DUN*
My Backyard,Uptown Minneapolis,
10:25 PM
I went outside to spebect the sound. It was a lot of loud rustling that I was hearing, and my first guess was that it was a raccoon going through the trash in the alley. Then I saw an unfamiliar bicycle laying in the middle of the yard. I realized the sounds were coming from inside the garage, and were being made by a person. A nefarious person.
A little history on my garage: It's been broken into before. Many times. Countless bikes have been taken, many of them mine. I had a bike stolen out of the garage when I was 14 that was later recovered in a drug bust in Powderhorn Park. It was a really sweet bike, so I was super happy to get it back. A couple years later it was stolen again. It's weird, because I live in a pretty luxe neighborhood, but for some reason my garage is like a magnet for petty burglary. This particular burglar, however, was incredibly stupid. Here is why:
- Most of the time when things are stolen from my garage, it's because it has been left open for one reason or another. The thieves just walk in and take what they want (my bike) and then walk (ride) away. This time the guy went in the side door, which barely even opens because there's so much junk in the way. It's next to impossible to navigate said junk in the daytime, much less at night when it's pitch black inside. He probably should have recognized this immediately and left to find an easier garage to get into, but he instead chose to push his way in and make a lot of noise.
- He decided to steal from the garage of a house that obviously had people inside. My mom and I were both home at the time, and there were several lights on in the house as well as the flood light illuminating the garage/driveway. Who did he think he was, some sort of ninja cat burglar who could break in right under our noses? Gimme a break, buddy.
- He left his bike right in the middle of the yard. I mean come on buddy, use your noodle. Put it around the side of the garage or something. Leave it in the alley. Just get it out of plain sight so I can't just look at it and immediately recognize that there's a person trying to hamburgle my bike for the thousandth time.
*DUN DUN*
My Backyard,Uptown Minneapolis,
10:27 PM
After I saw the bike, I went back inside and told my mom to call the cops. Then I did what anybody would do, I grabbed my broomball stick for to defend myself and went back outside to capture the thief's bike. Looking back, it probably would have been smarter to just stay inside and wait for the police to show up rather than risk getting into a confrontation and/or stabbed. But I wasn't about to let him make a clean getaway either. And besides, I had my trusty broomball stick! I took his bike and rolled it into my front yard. As I was walking back, the door opened and the guy poked his head out. He looked right at me, which was a little weird, and I sort of waggled the broomball stick at him. He shut the door, and I went back inside.
*DUN DUN*
My BackyardUptown, Minneapolis
10:30 PM
The cops showed up incredibly fast. They said that the guy had locked the door, and asked for permission to kick it in. Permission granted! They kicked it in, and made a big show of yelling "Police!" and "Stay where you are!" and whatnot, but the dude wasn't inside. Apparently he had been so intimidated by the vague waggling of my broomball stick that he sneaked away while I was going back inside. Then for some reason a whole bunch more cops showed up. Seriously, there were like seven cops. I don't think the situation really warranted so many of Minneapolis' Finest, but I wasn't going to tell them that. They milled around for a while, shined their flashlights, asked some questions, then took the bike I had captured as evidence. Of course I wasn't surprised that they took it, but secretly I was a little disappointed. It was a very nice bike, a hell of a lot nicer than mine. It had a sweet basket in front. It was undoubtedly stolen, probably from one of my neighbors, but as they were leaving one of the cops joked that it would be the new precinct bicycle. All I could think was "thank god I still have my bike."
Created by Dick Wolf
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