the happy mania

For Day 1 I've written the first three scenes. Yesterday, I wrote an additional two scenes. I won't be posting the last two, so don't worry :)

Reading over the most recent scenes, I'm a bit embarrassed. Well, no. Embarrassed is not the right word. Chastened? The whole point of writing the scenes out in prose is to help sketch out how it will turn out in script form, thus the emphasis on showing rather than telling in the first batch of scenes.

Yesterday's two scenes were supposed to be quick and easy: scene 4, office, scene 5, Sal's Diner. Onscreen it would take no more than 5 minutes. But I couldn't help playing with the protagonist and dipped back into writing as if it were a novel. Now, changing perspectives is a big peeve of mine; I'm justifying it by saying it gives me a chance to figure out my characters better. From what I've written so far, the protagonist is quite put upon. He gets flack from everyone, even some waitress at a diner. He's young, lonely, and unfortunately for him, I've written him as a dork. Write what you know, eh?

I hope this won't cause me much trouble later on, especially when the darker themes of the story emerge. The protagonist has a painful past that doesn't seem to square with his current characterisation, and I worry his actions later on may not ring true. Ah well. I guess I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

Right now I'm concentrating on The Girl. You know, the femme fatales in these type of stories. I've originally sketched her performance as a stereotypical frightened young woman, who's looking for a big strong man to protect her -- naturally this is a ruse, because all the women who play this game turn out to be cold-blooded blackmailers or worse, killers. But she has to be believable and she has to be sympathetic. I want the protagonist to know trusting her is a mistake, but he does so anyway because he can't resist so (due to her background, or whatever in her personality).

Okay, I'm off to write some more. Wish me luck!

I am such a sucker. I really am. Although not a big fan, I have just succumbed to the arseholish stubborn nature of Dr Gregory House. Watching him interfere in his best friend's love life, or crossing a powerful man made me wonder why I hadn't liked House sooner. There's such glee in trying to decipher the relationship with Wilson, and also somehow hoping against hope that it might be something along the lines of when Christian Troy on Nip/Tuck thought he was in love with his best friend. Wow, that was an intense season. Plus, when do you get to actually cheer on a bully?

It usually takes a lot for me to pay attention to an episode of House, but this one certainly clicked with me. The episode, sans spoilers, features a young married couple who seem to have contracted the same disease. The wife is first hit; House wants a biopsy when she's in a coma. Her husband disagrees and wants the biopsy to be done on himself. House: Dude, she's in a coma. Who are you trying to impress? Eventually the medical team finds out the cause, but at the cost of an unhappy revelation regarding the couple. Foreman, who had previously snarked about the couple being interracial, tries to convince the two their love doesn't change in the face of the news. That's when I thought, aw, I may have to start watching more.

Afterwards was the low-key John Amsterdam, a detective show based around the title character who is immortal. He's doomed to live forever until he meets his true love, and will be able to age normally. Watching an episode of the show is akin to reading a mystery novel, one that's sad and reflective but hopeful at the same time. Living for 400 years, searching for true love... Doesn't sound like your typical crime-fighting show, does it?

One of the best episodes is the second entitled The Golden Boy. Quick summary: John thinks he's found The One, but the search irritates someone close to him. Especially when that person is one of his many (60+) children over the centuries. As he asked, if this woman is The One, what does it make my mother? Tough, and John doesn't quite have the answer. Then there's the main story of a young boy found dead, seemingly of auto-erotic asphyxia but there's always a twist isn't there? In addition, the episode touches upon privilege, race, age, and above all, the complications that arise from simply falling in love. When the story behind John's past relationship is revealed, I feel like it renders the crazy fighting over race ridiculous. And the ending -- I just teared up. What can I say? I'm a romantic at heart.

John Amsterdam is up on fancast.com, and is definitely worth the watch.

Lastly, tomorrow is the start of Script Frenzy. Ooh boy. Not sure I'm ready, but whatever. Bring. It. On.

BTW, see the below fic? I was thinking of posting my fics up on this LJ. Not sure that's a good idea, because this is strictly personal stuff. Perhaps I should have another account. Ugh, but I'd hate the hassle. Meh, I'll decide when I actually have something to write.

Ed Reardon's back on Radio 4! Granted, it's a repeat of the last series but I'll take 'em however they're dealt.

I'm sure my English prof would be horrified to learn I've switched my idolation to a grumpy fictionalised freeloading writer who rails against the 12-year olds of the world and never seems to catch a break. He was similarly distressed when I told him I wanted to be just like Hemingway, asking why I couldn't be the normal sort of writer who actually writes instead of boozing away money. The answer: because I am a lazy procrastinator who spends more time talking about writing than actually doing it.

Speaking of which, planning for script frenzy is going well. Sometime last week I sent an anguished e-mail to Sal, trying to figure out why I couldn't write female characters and blurting out other neuroses the poor girl wasn't equipped to assist. After a long session of mind slapping, I got over it and now have pages and pages of actually sentences. *punches air* Awesome!

Every time I try to enter the notes into the script program, I can't be trusted to finish the work. Bloody internets distracting me. Therefore I'm on the lookout for a better writing apparatus than the pen and book I have right now. There's something satisfying about scritching on paper, but I'm running out of pages. Here's what I have right now:



Paperchase is excellent. They're available at Borders stores and otherwise are available through their Amazon UK page. What I like is the texture of the brown, unlined notebook paper as well as the size and the heft of the book. But if I'm going to use paper to create the scenes instead of the computer program, I'm thinking of going bigger. More disposable. Like a regular lined 3-hole notebook. Unsexy, but probably more practical.

Back in the good old days, Sal cut an A4 notebook into thirds for our scribbles. Then we moved to spiral bound notebooks. The paper quality of those suck, though. No matter how careful you were, the ink bled into the page and the lines were plain ugly. Ah, maybe I'm overthinking it too much. But you got to admit... the page of nonsense up there looks important on the good paper. I actually feel like a genuine writer whipping that baby out to jot down something.

Oh shit. What have I gotten myself into?