Turns out I
Chatterbox: Inkwell
Turns out I
Turns out I am so amazingly awesome and brilliant, I managed to win a poetry... thingy... with a) absolutely no memory of entering said contest and b) absolutely no memory of writing the poem that I apparently entered.
...
*headdesk*
In other news, I'm writing another script. Anyone want an exerpt?
submitted by TNÖ, age 16, Deep Space
(July 30, 2009 - 9:52 pm)
(July 30, 2009 - 9:52 pm)
Weird. If you enter many contests, it's possible you forgot about one, but it's really strange you don't even remember writing the poem... was it the kind of poem you would write? Well, congratulations!
(July 31, 2009 - 6:58 am)
I dunno, I haven't read it.
(July 31, 2009 - 12:50 pm)
Are you sure it's not some kind of mistake? Someone else with a similar name to yours might of entered it, and the host people might have just thought it was you.
(July 31, 2009 - 1:27 pm)
Yes, you might want to see if it was actually you who enterd it.
Oh, and TNO, do you happen to have a cousin named Kayla P, close to my age, who lives in central Iowa? Because I recently met one who said she had a cousin named Haley who was older than she is, and lived in a place a lot like you describe where you live in Wyoming. And she looks a lot like I imagine you. :)
(July 31, 2009 - 1:52 pm)
I don't think so (the cousin thing). All my relatives are in Cali/Washington/Arizona/Ireland.
(July 31, 2009 - 3:26 pm)
Well, yes, that was my first thought. You'd think they'd double check or something but you never know.
It's also entirely possible that I just forgot. It's been known to happen.
*shrug*
(July 31, 2009 - 1:55 pm)
That is decidedly strange. You've got to be either a genius or completely insane to win a contest that you have recollection of entering... with a poem that you haven't even read. ;)
Regarding the excerpt, sure. I seem to recall that your last script had a guy judging people by how they eat watermelon. It was interesting.
(July 31, 2009 - 2:39 pm)
Wee! Exert time!
*
INT. SCENE - AUDITORIUM
The only light shines on a tall, balding SPEAKER standing behind a wooden podium. He stands easily before the microphone, leaning slightly onto his elbows.
SPEAKER
Good evening. I’m very delighted to be here, to share my story with you.
The speaker clears his throat.
SPEAKER
Once upon a time… You must forgive me for being so cliché. It is, I believe, the best way to begin my tale…
Once upon a time, there was a little girl who dropped a golden coin into a well and made a wish…
FLASHBACK - EXT. SCENE - A MEDIEVAL SQUARE
A small GIRL stands on tip-toe to drop a huge gold coin into a well.
GIRL
I wish that I won’t have any more nightmares.
SPEAKER (V.O.)
This made the faerie at the bottom sad, for it was beyond his power to grant such a wish. So, he said…
FAERIE (O.S.)
I can’t stop your nightmares, but I can give you the ability to fight them if you wish.
GIRL
Very well.
BACK TO THE AUDITORIUM
The speaker glances down quickly at his notes.
SPEAKER
The little girl skipped happily on her way. That night, she dreamed of a ferocious monster that tried to eat her. But she reached inside herself and found the power that the faerie had given her, and she blasted a hole straight through the monster’s heart.
The monster collapsed, screaming in pain and fury.
FLASHBACK - EXT. SCENE - A DARK PLAIN
The girl stands in front of a huge, lumpy SILHOUETTE.
SPEAKER (V.O.)
With its dying breaths the monster put a spell on the young girl…
SILHOUETTE
(panting)
Beware, child! Fight if you will- you and your offspring- and bind yourself to the fabric of the dreamworld! You will never escape our web!
BACK TO THE AUDITORIUM
The speaker stares solemnly over the audience.
SPEAKER
With that, her fate was sealed, as was the fate of her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren… And so on…
The speaker sighs heavily and glances over his notes once more.
SPEAKER
That was many years ago. Since then the old legends have nearly passed out of memory.
Our story truly begins with one of that little girl’s descendants. Her name is April Caulfield.
INT. SCENE - A BEDROOM - MORNING
APRIL CAULFIELD blinks awake. She sighs and begins to roll out of bed, running her fingers through her long, blonde hair as she does so.
APRIL
(mumbling)
It’s my birthday, Titus. D’you think they’ll remember what I told them?
April glances around as if expecting an answer.
APRIL
I hope they do. They didn’t last year.
With another sigh April vanishes into her closet.
APRIL (o.S.)
No gifts, no cakes, no parties, certainly no piñatas. But did they listen?
There is another pause to indicate that April is still waiting for an answer.
APRIL (O.S.)
They did not.
April bursts dramatically out of her closet, wearing baggy jeans and a white zip-up hoodie.
APRIL
Well, Titus? How do I look?
(pause)
That’s very rude, Titus. I’m hurt. I’m never speaking to you again.
(pause)
Eh. I suppose you’re right. I’m not speaking to you until we get to school, then.
With a firm nod, April marches out of the room.
KITCHEN
MRS. CAULFIELD stands at a coffee maker, pouring herself a mug. MR. CAULFIELD sits at the table, staring deeply into a bowl of oatmeal.
April enters.
APRIL
Morning. I’m off.
April kisses Mr. Caulfield swiftly on the cheek.
MRS. CAULFIELD
Eat something first, sweetheart.
APRIL
Fine.
April crosses the kitchen and snatches up an apple.
APRIL
I’ll eat it on the bus. Good-bye.
April exits.
MRS. CAULFIELD
(calling after April)
Happy birthday, darling!
INT. SCENE - SCHOOL BUS - CONTINUOUS
April darts into the bus, scowling deeply.
APRIL
I told you, Titus! What did I tell you! They’ve probably got a big party all planned for when I get home. ‘Happy birthday’ indeed.
With a quick, bitter laugh, April slides into an empty seat.
APRIL
Well, at least you have the decency to respect my wishes.
(pause)
Oh, nonsense Titus. Don’t be silly. You’ve always-
(pause)
Of course I don’t want a present! I told you a thousand times that I hate-
(pause)
Well, I suppose that’s alright. I mean, if it’s not a birthday thing.
The bus pulls up in front of a nondescript building.
APRIL
Oh, look, Titus. School. Yay.
Scowling again April files off the bus with her fellow classmates.
And it goes on for thirty more pages of madness based on two of my dreams (the Man in the White Car, and the weird I-game-too-much one (it's on the Dreams thread...)) and one of Quinn's (well, it will when I write it) which involved bacon and tin-foil pontoons.
Mmmyep.
(July 31, 2009 - 3:48 pm)
I want to read the whole thing, but you probably won't post it all on here. Pretty good, though. I'm not fond of the intro - it seems, well, forced somehow. And way too abrupt. I mean the guy at the podium. Maybe a storyteller or a writer at his computer/typewriter/dictator-thingy-like-in-Star-Trek-log-entries would be better. It's still pretty cool, though, and I like the flashbacks. And if you ever publish it (or Broadway turns it into a musical or something lol) let us know cause I want to see the whole thing.
-EH
(July 31, 2009 - 6:31 pm)
That's a really cool idea, TNO! I think the opening is very good, but you should make it a little more clear what April wants.
(August 1, 2009 - 3:44 pm)
guess, what TNO? I stole your watermelon idea for an interview. Sorry.
(July 31, 2009 - 3:50 pm)
Interview?
(July 31, 2009 - 5:23 pm)
oh yeah excerpt please
(July 31, 2009 - 3:51 pm)
Right now, I do not understand your main charector. Does she want them to remember her birthday or not?
(July 31, 2009 - 5:39 pm)
Rofl. Forgive me, chatspeak haters, but that's really funny. I love it when that happens. And hate it, because I'm not fond of my sieve memory. Oh, well, nice job.
-EH
(July 31, 2009 - 6:25 pm)