Posts Tagged ‘stories’

Killing My Baby

I spent 6 hours at a meeting yesterday and we ended up tossing my work in the garbage. It’s fine, I’m not sad about it or anything. It was a backup anyway. We’re going to go with my primary baby. The only hard part was that I wish I knew ahead of time that I was going to end up scrapping it. I spent four days writing up this script adapted from my monologue and to end up having to scrap the whole script was painful.

Four days is a record time for me, considering my last script took me two years to finish. I AM glad, however, that everyone liked the monologue better. The only reason I wrote the stage script was because I wrote the monologue for the photography lookbook we were going to do. Alas, I was given the sad news that the lookbook has been put on hold, and I felt the need to quickly adapt the monologue with dialogue and stage directions since I wasn’t able to envision the monologue as a stage performance just yet, only as light reading.

It perturbed me to produce the stage script because I hated every word, every transition, every empty dialogue I had placed any effort into writing. Hmm, now that I think about it, maybe I subconciously sabatoged myself into writing a horrible script, hoping the monologue would have a 100% chance of shining through when being compared side by side. It’s not like it would have been the first time for me to sabatoge myself on purpose.

I remember doing my very first audition. I didn’t want my first performance to be drama, I wanted it to be comedy. However, the part they wanted me to read was drama so I purposely did a horrible job on the drama audition so that I wouldn’t get casted by the director of that piece. Subsequently, they gave me a comedic piece to read and needless to say, I was casted for the comedic piece. Thus, completing my mission of wanting my 1st stage performance to be comedy.

Of course now, I’m down to do any genre. Comedy, drama, horror, whatever. As long as I’m having fun, I will commit myself to doing my job 110%. I’m really excited now to complete this monologue piece now that I’ve gotten some feedback on it from my peers. Stage directions will be the next step in finishing this draft. I’m excited to dive into the actual casting & rehearsing of it. As a matter of fact, ALL the pieces that will be in the show sound amazing. I’m overexcited to get it up and running.

Here are some excerpts from the monologue and the stage script.


      “He is too short.” She would tell me all the reasons why he’s not right for her. I decided not to encourage her to pursue him. Most likely, she already knew the outcome. Instead, she chose to continue living her façade of a perfect life in the eyes of her friends. After a decade of building her pretty world, the walls began to wobble.
      A couple of days ago, I saw a bulk toothpaste box with a hole cut out of it that was facing me while I was showering. My mind became curious. I wondered what it was. I mean, why would anyone carve a hole in a toothpaste box? I picked it up and peered into the hole, only to see my own eyes staring right back at me.


What’s wrong, mom? You seem so sad.

Oh nothing. It’s just that James
was vomiting blood today. I think
he’s getting sick.

Sarah & Steven glance at each other and grin.

Are you sure you don’t want some
food? There’s some more rice still.
I made eggs with barbecued pork.
That’s your favorite, right?

We don’t want any food, mom. We
have to talk to you about

Mom stops washing dishes and turns around. She looks uncomfortable.

Talk about what?

Steven looks at Sarah, signaling for a response. Sarah remains silent, unable to begin. Steven eagerly responds to mom.

Sarah has something to tell you.

And there it is. Pretty bad. Sometimes, you just have to kill your baby.

Last Night

     The club was dark with reddish undertones. Patrons were dressed in cocktail wear. Will had just finished a set. It was a standup comedy show. He sported brown & shiny, shoulder-length pantene hair with a hint of gold highlights, a clean-shaven face, a black & blue plaid shirt, and a pair of blue jeans. He had a pair of tan Timberland boots on that made a clunky noise as he made his strides. He squeezed in between two people to the right of the bar & was trying to get the bartender’s attention. I walked up to his left while he waited for his drink. I smiled from ear to ear.
      “Hi Will, you were really good up there. I’m Ava.” I put out my hand to shake his but his eyes averted mine. He looked down on the floor with a silent pause. I casually lowered my empty hand and backed away, sensing his wariness.
      “Ok well, just wanted you to know.” I forced a smile, disappointed that our one & only encounter was a failure. I took steps to walk away when he spoke.
      “Who are you with? I mean, who do you know?” He looked at me with guarded eyes but he was listening for an answer. Perhaps a validation? I was speechless. I’m not a socialite. I’m certainly not one of those aggressive autograph collectors who go around hounding celebrities for a signature I can sell for a profit online. I searched in my mind to find any celebrity connections I had that could validate myself to let him know I wasn’t some insane fan who could hurt him.
      “I’m a moderator for New Kids on the Block’s forum website!” I blurted. Strike two. Why did I say that? What pertinence does this information have? I’m such an idiot. It would have made better sense if I had just told him who I really was; someone who had admired his work since 1993 and was honored to be in his presence. Perhaps he wasn’t even asking for validation, maybe he was just asking which comedian I specifically came to watch. Him, of course, but his cautious interrogation made me regret coming up to him.
     At that moment, a black man came up to Will and complimented him on his set, distracting his attention. A way out. I attempted my ninja exit. Before I could escape, Will took notice and grabbed my arm to stop me.
     “Wait. What was your name again? Ava?”
     “Yes. Ava. I just wanted to meet you. I love that you make me laugh.” He stood close to me, invading my two feet of personal space but it didn’t bother me; it was comfortable. I wanted to hold his hand, to touch his face, to taste his lips. I wondered how he would hold me if he were my boyfriend. I wondered if he was the type of comedian who acknowledges his girlfriend from the stage, making her feel embarrassed & special at the same time.
     Words now became an awkward barrier between us. I stared at his gentle hazel eyes, waiting for the end of his assessment. I knew he finally approved when I saw the dimples on his cheeks emerge, a smile that could charm even the most wicked of witches. My heart did a blissful little dance.
     Just then, the black man shoved his way past Will, jostling him into me. I swiftly placed my hands to his cheeks & pulled his face towards mine until there was only half an inch between our stares. His arms instinctively wrapped around me, cradling my body with a protective fervour so I wouldn’t fall, but my heart fell anyway. His fingertips rested against the small of my back. His eyes glanced at my lips while the awkwardness faded and I was relieved. I closed my eyes and let his lips touch mine…


     When my eyes opened, Will was gone. I shut my alarm off and stayed in bed with a lamented smile, struggling to return to my dream.

I have the cheesiest (sub)concious ever.

Becoming A Storyteller

I’ve never done so much reading in my life, not even in high school. At least in high school, I was really only reading one book at a time for English class. Textbooks don’t count since I only had to read lessons, learn from examples, and copy answers from the back of the book. Last night, I plowed through page after page from a book, a literary magazine, 2 scripts, a novel excerpt, and a barrage of emails. In addition to that, I also had to draw 2 items 3 times for my art class. I’m starting to dislike 6B pencils. Found myself sharpening every 15 minutes.

I never realized how much concentration it took for me to really absorb myself into a book. Have you ever read through 40 pages only to walk away from it without having listened to even one sentence? Did your mind wander to all the different chores you still have to do, people you still need to email, projects you have yet to complete or ideas you have to record? I walk away from my readings having mentally completed multiple task lists and planning my week out rather than paying mind to the book in hand. Of course in the end, I have not actually done the tasks I mentally prepared myself to do nor absorbed the material I just spent 3 hours reading so I end up having accomplished zilch.

Things must change. If I’m going to start a side career writing scripts & stories, I’m going to have to give as much as I get. Thank you to my friends who critique my scripts & stories. I promise to give back and actually pay attention to your words too. I’m not bullshitting you neither because this time, I finally have an actual feature length story to tell and I’d really like to get your feedback!

I pitched the synopsis to a friend of mine up to the climax and she was badgering me for the conclusion, which I hadn’t decided yet. Her reaction gave me inspiration to pursue the story and maybe someday sell the script. If I can’t sell it, I will get it produced myself. I have to say, reading “Story: Substance, Structure, Style and the Principles of Writing” by Robert McKee has been extremely helpful, probably the most insightful book on writing that I have ever read. It broke down all the reasons why people love movies, how a good story is told, how to refrain from clichés, etc. Everything you need to learn about how to screenwrite a story is in here! It was published in 1997 so some of the movies they mention are a bit outdated but nonetheless, the material is still relevant to this day.

By the end of May, I hope to have completed at least a first draft of a feature-length screenplay. That is my goal on my writing side right now. I’m very excited to finally begin this chapter of my life.

History vs. Herstory

Everyone needs an outlet, a vent, some form of place for us to be free to say what we want to say when society, friends or family restrict us from releasing our wrath. I’ve decided to take this recent camera event and let it inspire me to write a piece for the PMSTA look book. I don’t know what will come out of me once I begin to write but hopefully, it will be the closure I need to move on and let go of this calamity.

I used to watch episodes of Law & Order: SVU and wonder how I would handle such situations of despair, violence, and emotional turmoil. I’ve been bombarding my soul with Will Friedle youtube videos just to find a smile. I really love that guy. I think I need to take some time to step back & reflect, get some perspective and regurgitate whatever comes to mind. Hopefully, it will be something decent & worthy of publishing.