Cross-Forum Pollination

E

Eximious

Well-known member
I've posted a 15-page short over on DDP. I figure I'll see how the site plays out. There's already been some intelligent responses, which is nice to see. I'd love to receive some feedback from some of my fellow DVX writers, but I'm not sure if I should just post it here or direct you guys over there.
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http://messageboard.donedealpro.com/boards/showthread.php?p=562156

[/FONT]I wrote this story over a couple of days as an exercise in suspense, so it shouldn't be too long or boring. Thanks to Charli for encouraging me to finally make the plunge over there.

Or, if you guys want, I can post it here. Any thoughts?
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Code: 
               INT. CHILD'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

               A colorful NIGHT LIGHT illuminates the room bravely.
               Suburbia. A small TV rests on a dresser against one wall, a
               sturdy wooden BUNK BED near another. Soft moonlight leaks in
               through thin slits in the window's heavy drapes.

               ENTITY'S POV from the doorway: a BULGE lurks beneath the
               bottom bunk's covers. 

               The entity approaches. An amorphous shadow flickering across
               the wall. 

               The blanket slides down, pulled by an unseen force. Beneath,
               the figure remains dark, indiscernible. The entity's shadow
               creeps over the figure's form.

               Slowly, the figure is TURNED over and the entity steps back to
               reveal-- 

               --It's a huge STUFFED ANIMAL. The "Pink Panther." Four feet
               tall.

                                                                CUT TO:



               THE BUNK ABOVE - SAME ROOM

               ETHAN, 9, wakes with a startle. He peers over the side of the
               bed. Nothing.

               A moment of hesitation. He grips a stuffed MONKEY tightly, an
               army of other plush toys encircling him, ever-vigilant
               sentries. Quiet. Still. Eyes gleaming in the darkness.

               Something DASHES past the window outside.

                                   ETHAN
                         MOM! DAD!

               No response. His cry for help reverberates through the house.

                                   ETHAN (CONT'D)
                             (even louder)
                         MOM! DAD!

               FOOTSTEPS outside the door. And now the kid is really
               freaking out. He's SCREAMING bloody murder.

                                   ETHAN (CONT'D)
                         HELP! 

               A SILHOUETTE appears through a crack in the doorway. Weird,
               contorted, seemingly inhuman. Growing closer, larger with
               each passing moment.

                                   ETHAN (CONT'D)
                             (quietly)
                         Help... me...

               The door BURSTS open.

                                   HENRY
                         What's the matter?

               HENRY, 40s, rushes into the room, baseball bat in hand. 

                                   ETHAN
                         There was something...

                                   HENRY
                         What?

               Hobbled STEPS outside the doorway.

                                   ETHAN
                         There!

               Henry turns, but far from a burglar, it's SHEILA, late 30s,
               wearing only a modest nightgown. She's completely bald.

                                   HENRY
                         Sheila, you shouldn't of.

               He flips on a light switch.

                                   SHEILA
                             (softly)
                         It's alright, Henry.

               She enters the room, but stumbles and loses her balance.
               Henry's there to catch her. As he always is.

                                   HENRY
                         Please, honey...

                                   SHEILA
                             (to Ethan)
                         What was it dear?

               Henry stares hard at his son. Don't do it.

                                   ETHAN
                         There was something in my room.

                                   HENRY
                         I think it's gone now.
                             (to Sheila)
                         I'll take care of it. Here, take
                         this.

               He hands her the baseball bat. She leans on it like a cane.

                                   HENRY (CONT'D)
                         Here. Go on back to bed. I'll be
                         there soon.

                                   SHEILA
                         Okay.
                             (to Ethan)
                         Love you. Good night.

                                   ETHAN
                         Good night, Mom.

               She shuffles away, using the bat for support. Henry advances
               to the bunk. His eyes looking up at Ethan's.

                                   HENRY
                         Ethan, why do you do this?

                                   ETHAN
                         Please. Please look.

               A beat.

               And a father can't refuse. Henry sighs, opens up the closet.
               Nothing. Bends down to check under the bunk. Half the space
               is open, the other half filled by three drawers. He checks
               each one.

                                   ETHAN (CONT'D)
                         The window.

               Another sigh, but he does. During this:

                                   HENRY
                         There's nothing here. There's no
                         burglar in the closet, monster
                         under your bed, alien outside the
                         window... 

               He leans in closer. The words come loving, but stern.

                                   HENRY (CONT'D)
                         You're so smart. Don't you realize?

                                   ETHAN
                         Dad, I saw something! I really did.

               Henry rubs his temples, skin folding in tired agony.

                                   HENRY
                         Is it attention? I know it's been
                         hard for you, but you know we love
                         you.

               The emotion slowly building.

                                   ETHAN
                         Dad, I know. But someone was
                         watching me!

                                   HENRY
                         Are you mad at us? Mad that we
                         can't spend as much time with you?
                         Mad that you have to stay after
                         school?

                                   ETHAN
                         No. There was something outside the
                         window!

               Henry FLAILS his arms in frustration.

                                   HENRY
                         In the room? Outside the window?
                         Under the bed? Which is it?

               No response.

                                   HENRY (CONT'D)
                         Which is it?!

               Ethan's eyes, swelling with tears, searching for the right
               answer.

                                   ETHAN
                         I don't know. Both!

               Henry cups his hands around Ethan's face.

                                   HENRY
                         ETHAN! YOU'RE KILLING HER!

               All the emotion comes pouring out. All the sleepless nights.
               The hospital stays. The what if's. The monsters, the
               burglars, the aliens. All rushing out.

                                   HENRY (CONT'D)
                         She can't take it! She can't! She
                         needs peace. Quiet. Rest. She...

               Tears flow down the boy's face.

                                   ETHAN
                         I saw something! Outside the
                         window!

               Henry removes his hands, wipes away his own tears. The
               gravity of what he's just done slowly sinking in.

                                   HENRY
                         I'm sorry. So sorry.

               He leans in, kisses Ethan on the forehead.

                                   HENRY (CONT'D)
                         I love you.

               Turns to leave, makes it as far as the doorway.

                                   ETHAN
                         Please. Don't. Go.

               He stands in the doorway, desperately trying to resist his
               fatherly impulses.

                                   HENRY
                         You're too old for this. We've been
                         more than patient enough.

               He flicks the light off. CLICK. The door closes behind him.

                                                                CUT TO:



               ETHAN

               Only the night light and his stuffed animals to protect him.
               Henry's heavy gait fading away into silence.

               Ethan regards his legion of stuffed animals and plush toys.
               He picks up a miniature INCREDIBLE HULK.

                                   ETHAN 
                         You take first watch.

               No discernible response.

                                   ETHAN (CONT'D)
                         I know I told you to watch your
                         temper, but this is important.

               Another beat.

                                   ETHAN (CONT'D)
                         Fine. Take whoever you need. But
                         Monkey stays with me.

               Ethan arranges a few stuffed animals to face the window, his
               door, and other targets of interest. Satisfied, he lies down,
               closes his eyes, and grips Monkey tightly.

                                                           DISSOLVE TO:



               INT. ETHAN'S BEDROOM - LATER THAT NIGHT

               Ethan stirs, staying very still. His night light FLICKERS
               ominously, like a candle about to go out. And it does.

               DARKNESS. Only a thin beam of moonlight penetrates a split
               between the curtains.

                                   ETHAN
                         Mr. Jellyfish. Some light, please?

               No response. But Ethan's prepared. He flips on a flashlight. 

                                   ETHAN (CONT'D)
                         So, any volunteers?

               Ethan regards a miniature Taco Bell chihuahua, GIDGET,
               hopefully.

                                   ETHAN (CONT'D)
                         How about you, Gidget?

               He leans in and squeezes the dog's paw. Its recorded message
               plays through a tinny internal speaker.

                                   GIDGET
                         Yo quiero Taco Bell.

               Ethan raises an eyebrow.

                                   ETHAN
                         Okay... not very helpful, but I'll
                         keep that in mind. Anyone else?

               No takers.

                                   ETHAN (CONT'D)
                         Fine.

               The flashlight swings wildly in one hand, Monkey in the other
               as Ethan climbs down from the top bunk. Each step cautioned.

               He creeps over to the night light. Flips the switch a few
               times. No luck. Goes over to the switch on the wall. Flips
               it. Nothing.

               Frantic, he tries his TV. No. A radio. Negative. Nothing's
               turning on. His breath draws shallow and quick. He looks
               towards the window, has an "aha" moment.

               The drapes SWISH open, basking the room in moonlight. 

               Ethan sighs with relief. At least it's not a new moon. He
               takes a deep breath, tries to relax. He sits down on the
               bottom bed and turns the flashlight off.

                                   ETHAN (CONT'D)
                         What's going on, Monkey?

               A beat.

                                   ETHAN (CONT'D)
                         I don't like that idea. What about
                         you, Pink? 

               He looks over to the gigantic stuffed Pink Panther under the
               bottom bunk's sheets. Except, it's not under the sheets. And
               it's facing the door.

               Ethan's eyes BULGE. He springs from the bed, backpedals in
               shock. Not even sure if he believes himself. Crashes against
               the dresser.

               WHOOOSH! A shadow streaks by the window. No mistaking it this
               time.
 
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Code: 
Ethan. Glued to the spot with terror.

                                   ETHAN (CONT'D)
                         Monkey...

               A few moments pass. Ethan's eyes darting around the room.
               Slowly, he takes a step. Lightly touches the carpet with his
               foot, testing the waters.

               Nothing happens. He takes another step. And another. Back
               towards his bunk bed. He starts to climb, but stops halfway
               up.

               Ethan pauses, trying to work up a shred of courage.

                                   ETHAN (CONT'D)
                         It can't be.

               But he hasn't done a very good job of convincing himself. And
               he's not finding much courage.

               He takes a step up, and another, and one more. Finally, he's
               back in his bed.

               But rather than lie down, he grabs a BANDANA from nearby and
               wraps it around Monkey's head, commando-style.

                                   ETHAN (CONT'D)
                         We have to. For Mom and Dad.



               INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

               Ethan emerges from his bedroom, Commando Monkey in one hand,
               unlit flashlight in the other. Very little moonlight
               penetrates into the house. He peeks around a corner to see:



               INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

               Everything perfectly still, perfectly silent.

                                   ETHAN
                             (to Monkey)
                         See?

               He scurries along the edge of the room, scarcely making a
               sound. A telephone rests on a table. It's dead.



               INT. FAMILY ROOM - NIGHT

               Light dapples the room from half-open curtains. Ethan
               carefully stays in the shadows.

               His parent's bedroom door rests on the other side of the
               room. Almost there. 

               VVVRRRRRRR! High-pitched, mechanical DRONING. Scary as hell.
               Coming from the master bedroom.

               Ethan GASPS. As if on cue, the buzzing STOPS. Oh shi*.

               He looks around, mind racing a million miles a second. The
               room is too wide open, nowhere to hide, too well lit from
               moonlight. The moonlight. The window!

               Ethan ducks behind the half-drawn curtains, a small bulge the
               only evidence of his presence. And he waits. Not daring to
               move. Not daring to make a sound. He waits.

               Nothing.

               As his fear wanes, he risks peeking around the edge of the
               curtain. Scans the room. Pockets of shadows and light.

               POV Ethan: half his vision obstructed by the curtains, the
               other half showing no signs of movement.

               REVERSE on Ethan, transparent window behind him, moonlight
               streaming in.

               Ethan: still no movement. He doesn't budge one millimeter.

               REVERSE on Ethan. BLUE, LUMINOUS EYES HANG OVER HIS HEAD. On
               the other side of the window. Peering in. Peering right over
               the top of Ethan's head. He doesn't sense a thing.

               As far as he sees, the room is perfectly still. And he's
               happy to return the favor.

               The BLUE EYES hold for a moment, then leave.

               Ethan. Still watching. Still. Quiet.

               SOMETHING in the shadow! Far side of the room. Humanoid.
               Long, slender limbs. Oblong head. It slinks, quickly and
               quietly, between the pools of darkness, scanning the area. It
               glides towards his parent's bedroom.

               Ethan grips Monkey tightly. He's twenty-below-zero with
               terror. Mouth agape. Eyes wide open. Dread gripping his
               entire body.

               He DROPS the flashlight. THUD. A throaty, inhuman sound
               responds from the master bedroom.

                                   ETHAN
                         Oh no!

               He takes off, quietly as he can, but with speed as his first
               priority. Not thinking. Not planning. Just reacting. He races
               back to his room.



               INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

               Sounds clearly audible back in the family room. Ethan doesn't
               slow down. He rounds the corner to his hallway.



               INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

               He's flying around the corner and he SLIPS on a rug. THUMP.
               Scrambles to his feet and races into the bedroom.



               INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT

               Closes the door quietly behind him. Locks it carefully. More
               throaty sounds outside, in the living room now. Not just from
               one source.

               Ethan can't think. His mind trapped by fear. He bounds up the
               stairs to his top bunk. Looks to his stuffed animals for
               advice. Seems to help.

                                   ETHAN
                         We've got company guys.

               Light, soft FOOTSTEPS. Getting closer.

               Ethan thinks hard. His bed isn't going to protect him.

                                                                CUT TO:



               THE DOOR KNOB

               It TURNS, oh-so-slowly, half a degree. Then stops. CLICK. The
               lock does its job. 

               A beam of light penetrates beneath the door, dancing side to
               side.

               Ethan watches from underneath his bed. Only a narrow space
               lies between the wall and his hiding nook. The bed's drawers
               face the rest of the room. A small opening at the bottom of
               the bunk provides Ethan his vantage point.

               Soft, electrical HUMMING outside door. Rising in pitch and
               volume. Growing in intensity until it's almost deafening.

               Ethan can see up to the doorknob, but not much higher. The
               brass handle begins to RATTLE violently.

               BLAST! 

               The knob and a huge chunk of surrounding wood EXPLODE. Ethan
               covers Monkey's eyes, and what's left of the door slowly
               CREAKS open.

               Two pairs of lanky, shimmering blue-green legs enter. They
               almost float along the carpet, otherworldly apparitions. 

               One creature moves towards the window, out of Ethan's sight.
               Drawers in the dresser SLIDE open delicately. Faint SWISHES
               follow as the drapes are searched.

               During this, the other creature moves to the closet. Directly
               across from Ethan's viewing slot. It rolls the door open and
               peeks inside.

               The creatures exchange a flurry of hushed GRUNTS and approach
               the bed from either side. The second creature stands mere
               inches away from Ethan's cowering form.

               Ethan looks at Monkey and puts a finger to his lips. Shhh.

               One of the bed's drawers SLIDES OUT behind Ethan, light
               permeating between the cracks. All the way out and it won't
               hide Ethan from the other side. It keeps sliding. More and
               more. 

               But it stops. Right at the edge. The other two drawers open
               quickly and also stop at the brink.

               If that one's checking under that side, then the other one
               must be checking this... 

               The thought burns through Ethan's mind. He WHIRLS around to
               see--

               NOTHING. Gone. Nowhere to be seen. Ethan barely holds back a
               scream.

               TAP TAP. Right above Ethan. Two feet landing on the bed's
               supporting frame. Old wooden guard rails from the top bunk
               begin to GROAN and shake. The creatures RUSTLE through the
               stuffed animals.  

                                   GIDGET
                         Yo quiero Taco Be-

               BLAST! BLAST! Wooden splinters rain down and flakes of plush
               white stuffing drift in the air, collecting on the carpet
               like snowfall. 

               Another round of GRUNTS. Sharper, staccato, excited. THUD.
               Two agile feet touch down nearby. The creature leans over to
               examine the bottom bed. 

               Electrical HUMMING, like before. But faster. Much faster. 

               BLAST! 

               The Pink Panther's head lands inches away from Ethan's, its
               stuffing singed and neck charred.

               One pair of FOOTSTEPS recede out the doorway, but the
               creature on Ethan's side remains. It pivots, makes to leave,
               but stops. Waits. Turns.

               It comes back. Inches away from Ethan. He holds his breath.

               HUMMING. Fast, powerful, deafening. CRYING like a BANSHEE.

               Ethan clings to Monkey, body trembling uncontrollably.

               BLAST! The Panther's head ERUPTS into a giant plume of fire.
               All that remains is its black, beady eyes. Staring into
               Ethan's. A twisted, humanoid form REFLECTED off its sheen
               surface.

               The reflection fades as the creature recedes into the
               darkness, hardly making any sound at all.

               Ethan BREATHES once again. Removes his hand from Monkey's
               eyes and scratches his plush friend's back comfortingly.

                                   ETHAN
                         It's over.

               BLUE EYES, STARING AT ETHAN. The creature's head peers over
               the side of the bed, its flesh smooth and iridescent. 

               Ethan doesn't move an inch. Even as the eyes pierce his soul.

               The creature stays steady. It knows something is down here.
               Eyes moving side to side.

               Ethan. Withering under the creature's gaze. Trying hard not
               to blink.

               The creature. No need to blink. Watching for the first sign
               of movement.

               And Ethan can't take it. It's too much. He EXTENDS Monkey
               towards the creature, SHAKING him lightly. A sacrificial
               lamb.

               A long arm descends, its tendrils wrapping around the stuffed
               animal. The arm retracts, and Monkey disappears over the side
               of the bed. 

               The creature's eyes hesitate a moment, as if unconvinced, but
               relent. Soon the creature's head, too, disappears above the
               edge.

               Ethan sheds a tear for his lost friend, crestfallen with his
               own cowardice. 

               HUMMING. The banshee's wail returns. Each millisecond
               weighing heavily on Ethan.

               The pitch. Rising. The volume. Growing. Ethan grits his
               teeth. A fierce battle RAGING within. And that's it!

               Ethan ROLLS OUT from the bed and SPRINGS to his feet. 

               The creature's crouching on the bed, Monkey dangling from one
               hand, a glowing pistol-like gizmo in the other. It turns
               towards the boy, but it's too late--

               Ethan LEAPS onto the creature, sending both SPRAWLING over
               the other side of the bed. Both Monkey and the gun spill onto
               the floor. 

               CHOMP. Ethan bites down on its arm, eliciting a HOWL of pain.
               The creature responds, SMACKING the boy away.

               THE GUN. A few feet from both of them. Ethan SCRAMBLES to
               reach it, but finds sinewy tendrils TIGHTENING around his
               neck.

               The creature crawls past him, its other arm reaching for the
               gun. Ethan struggles to free himself. He pries the tendrils
               away from his neck. 

               Success. But just then, the creature rises to its feet, gun
               in hand. It brandishes it towards the boy. Game over.

               Ethan stares up at his doom. But then, something else out the
               corner of his eye. There, in one of the opened drawers, is a
               LONG, SHARP WOODEN SPIKE. A splinter from the top bunk's
               guard rails. Monkey rests nearby.

               Ethan GRABS the spike and scoops up Monkey. JUMPS to his
               feet.

               HUMMING. From the gun. Low but quickly rising.

               Ethan CHARGES.

               The creature doesn't back down. Confident in its own weapon.
               The HUMMING reaching CRITICAL MASS.

               Ethan's fast, but the gun's pointed right at him. He's not
               going to make it. Then--

               Monkey SOARS out of Ethan's hand, a perfect pitch towards the
               creature's face.

               The creature raises an arm to block Monkey. Its other arm
               SHIFTING so slightly and-

               BLAST! INTO THE DRESSER! Barely missing.

               Ethan DRIVES the spike into the creature's belly. A pool of
               blue ooze SPILLS out onto the carpet. 

               The creature collapses to the floor, its iridescent skin now
               drab and still.

               Ethan breathes deeply, his hands and arms covered in blue
               muck. He picks up Monkey. They share a beat. He uses its
               bandana to wipe off his hands.

                                   ETHAN (CONT'D)
                         No, you've done enough. You stay
                         here now.

               He looks back to the bed. Pink stuffing strewn everywhere.
               Climbs the stairs. The top bunk. Gone. Everything
               obliterated. He hides Monkey in a pile of debris.

                                   ETHAN (CONT'D)
                         I'll be back soon.

               Ethan leaps from the top stairs, landing nimbly on his feet.
               He picks up the creature's gun, wrestling the device away
               from its dead grip.
 
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3/3

Code: 
               INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

               Ethan, gun in hand, doesn't skulk in the shadows. The master
               bedroom WHIRS with mechanical terror, louder than ever.



               INT. FAMILY ROOM - NIGHT

               DRONING. Blaring. Ear-piercing. It SHRIEKS with dreadful
               delight.  

               Ethan's slowing down. He forces himself onwards, pushing
               against the wall of sound.

               He reaches the doorway. Fights tears from his eyes. Fights
               terror from his heart. The droning DROWNS OUT his own
               thoughts. Bright, strobing lights wrap around the door.

               Ethan reaches out to the handle.
               

               INT. MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

               The doorknob. This time Ethan does the turning. He enters.
               His face lit up with a cornucopia of terrifying color and
               light.

               Henry lies against the wall nearby. Motionless.

               Sheila lies outstretched and half-naked on the bed, a
               menagerie of mysterious machinery surrounding her. Black
               markings run across her belly. A huge SAW hovers in the air
               above her, poised and ready to strike.

               Controlling all this is the other CREATURE. It watches a
               translucent screen, foreign symbols flashing across at
               dizzying speed.

               Ethan lifts the gun. Pulls the trigger halfway. The
               electrical HUMMING begins, inaudible over all the machinery.
               The humming continues to INTENSIFY.

               The creature pauses, finally hearing the noise. It turns.
               Stares at Ethan. Its luminous eyes GLIMMER with a spectrum of
               colors.

               BANG. 

               What's left of its lifeless corpse crumples to the floor. A
               few nearby machines also explode in the blast. The deafening
               droning STOPS as the other machines power down.

               The lights suddenly FLICKER to life.

 CUT TO:

               SPLASH. Ethan showers his father's face with water. 

                                   HENRY
                         What... what happened?

               Ethan moves towards the bed and sprinkles a few droplets of
               water onto his mother's face. She, too, begins to stir.

                                   SHEILA
                         Ethan?

               She turns towards her son, revealing her HAIR, three or four
               inches worth, growing out from her scalp. 

               A number of diagrams rest beside Sheila on the bed. Seem to
               show a woman carrying a creature in her belly. Ethan pushes
               these off the side.

                                   HENRY
                         Are you okay, Ethan?

               Henry rubs his eyes and blinks a few times.

                                   ETHAN
                         Yeah.

               Ethan wraps his arms around his parents in a giant hug.

I've made some light revisions to the first draft that I posted over on the DDP forums and I'd like my fellow DVX writers' feedback. It's good to get multiple viewpoints.

Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed!
 
I read a bit of the first page, sounds intesting, i dont have time to read the rest right now but you sound talented.

Im more of a traditional writer, but im curious on how to write a screen play as opposed to just a standard novel approach.

Im also starting to learn by making some short films.

thanks for the inspiration
 
Ryan Paige said:
I saw an adverb in the first sentence, so I was forced to give up reading on principle.
Click to expand...

I can't tell if your joking? lol. you can use adverbs in screenwriting. Regardless of what you people hear and read about "rules" there really isn't any. Producers, agents, and or managers don't care as long as it's a good script. Make sure it's industry standard format and your golden.
 
Ex - email those pages and I will give you scene by scene feedback.

Glad you took the plunge!
 
Wow, a sudden flurry of activity. Most unusual, but I'll take it. Unfortunately I'm shipping out to help fire response early in the morning (nothing dangerous), so I might not be able to respond regularly.

As for the adverb, I suppose that's a legitimate concern for many readers. I know what it's like to read (and write) material that's just plain bombastic. However, since I'm anthropomorphizing the night light, I think it's fair to use the adverb. Indeed, that opening sentence actually introduces the theme of the story! Plus, turning away after only one sentence might be a little much... even for producers. I figure I'd get at least a paragraph and hopefully even a full page.

Apologies if you were making a joke. My sense of humor is a little off after a couple of 12-hour shifts mixed with limited food and restless sleep.

Charli- definitely! Send me a PM and I'll try to get back to you as soon as I have some free time (hopefully this weekend).
 
Hmm

Hmm

Well I haven't READ it all yet, but just clicking the POST I noticed that SOMEONE thinks you should for some reason CAPITALIZE random words for NO reason whatsoever, not really sure WHY, but it's very distracting as a READER of the SCRIPT. ;)

Seriously... keep it simple. Character names capitalized only on first appearance. Sounds can be capitalized. That's it. Otherwise it's just really annoying to read. Anything that distracts me from the story and text takes me out of it, and I give up, and have no interest in whatever is next. I'm sorry, I'm just like that. If I see a few typos or mistakes on the first page of a book, I throw it out. If the author can't edit their own work and they can't have an editor who does it either, obviously whatever they have to say is not worth my time to hear.
 
JonathanLB said:
Well I haven't READ it all yet, but just clicking the POST I noticed that SOMEONE thinks you should for some reason CAPITALIZE random words for NO reason whatsoever, not really sure WHY, but it's very distracting as a READER of the SCRIPT. ;)

Seriously... keep it simple. Character names capitalized only on first appearance. Sounds can be capitalized. That's it. Otherwise it's just really annoying to read. Anything that distracts me from the story and text takes me out of it, and I give up, and have no interest in whatever is next. I'm sorry, I'm just like that. If I see a few typos or mistakes on the first page of a book, I throw it out. If the author can't edit their own work and they can't have an editor who does it either, obviously whatever they have to say is not worth my time to hear.
Click to expand...

That's a little over dramatic don't ya think?

Because he capitalized certain words you lose attention and give up? I'm surprised you can get anything done in life without getting distracted and giving up.
 
JonathanLB said:
Well I haven't READ it all yet, but just clicking the POST I noticed that SOMEONE thinks you should for some reason CAPITALIZE random words for NO reason whatsoever, not really sure WHY, but it's very distracting as a READER of the SCRIPT. ;)

Seriously... keep it simple. Character names capitalized only on first appearance. Sounds can be capitalized. That's it. Otherwise it's just really annoying to read. Anything that distracts me from the story and text takes me out of it, and I give up, and have no interest in whatever is next. I'm sorry, I'm just like that. If I see a few typos or mistakes on the first page of a book, I throw it out. If the author can't edit their own work and they can't have an editor who does it either, obviously whatever they have to say is not worth my time to hear.
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Sounds, plus camera directions, slug lines, and transitions, of course. No need to apologize for your personal reaction to the material though. It's important data which will not be ignored.

Nevertheless, I must admit that many produced screenplays use this technique heavily. I believe the standard justification is this: readers will often zip through prose and occasionally miss important details. A bit of capitalization helps combat that tendency while also speeding up the flow of the story by emphasizing valuable information. As I'm sure you're aware, sometimes important props are capitalized also to help the prop master and 1st AD, but I'll leave that mostly to directors.

Did I need to capitalize "night light", "bulge" or "turned" on the first page? No. Does it add anything to the story? Perhaps. That discussion may be a valuable one to have. However, in order to gauge capitalization's effectiveness within the context of the story, as opposed to deconstructing it merely as a superficial technique, you'll have to endure the capitalization and read the rest of the story. I think you'll find the remainder of the work less prone to draw upon that tool.

Further, I'm sure it was done it good taste (as indicated by the smiley), but less thick-skinned writers might interpret the first part of your post as sardonic or derisive. Let's endeavor to keep things classy here.
 
jonE5 said:
I read a bit of the first page, sounds intesting, i dont have time to read the rest right now but you sound talented.

Im more of a traditional writer, but im curious on how to write a screen play as opposed to just a standard novel approach.

Im also starting to learn by making some short films.

thanks for the inspiration
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This is also something that interests me. I've read some screenplays that seem geared, from the very start, as a motion picture work. Lots of camera direction, montages, things like that. I think directors do this frequently, since they have such a clear vision already conjured in their head. They're just trying to write down the road map to get there.

Other screenplays, especially spec scripts, seem to stand better on their own as literary works. I'm sure we've all read scripts that were better than their respective movies. Then we add novels into the mix and it becomes clear that there are many styles and mechanisms for a storyteller to draw upon in effecting his / her vision.

When it comes to differences between screenplays and novels, I think we could hold a graduate seminar on the topic! There's a lot of material. However, there certainly are some pros to each format which we can point out quickly:

Novels:
1. Typically allow direct access to the thoughts of the protagonist (and often other characters).
2. Allow the introduction of background information via the narrator.
3. Encourage the deployment of more creative / florid expressions and metaphors.
4. Encourage more subplots and details.

Screenplays:
1. Facilitate very quick and easy dialogue.
2. Can invoke some precise musical / visual instructions that don't necessarily contribute to the story on paper, but may greatly heighten the motion picture experience.
3. Seem to allow quick cuts more easily since there are no real "chapters."

What else? I've read a few screenplays that definitely stood on their own as literary works. Then we get something like Terminator that, while telling a very good story in its own right, is executed in a fashion more tailored towards a movie than a literary work.
 
lol

lol

I was mostly just joking with you, but it is something I find annoying.

I think style is very important and since most writers seem not to put much care into their material or word choice, it is something that can be annoying. Not saying you are guilty of that, only that for me that's an annoyance.

Also, you can subscribe to all kinds of theories of what you want to do -- who cares what the prop master needs, what the 1st A.D. needs, any of that. You are writing a spec script. I completely disagree with tailoring your script to them. Screw them! You are making it for the reader, let them do their jobs when the time comes. If the script needs to be changed to be a shooting script, it will be done later, when it has already been picked up. Many screenwriting books emphasize this.

Also, camera direction -- avoid it. So no need to capitalize that. Very old-school style, looks horrible, directors and DPs will not pay any attention to it anyway. And your script can be written well without any of it, just by better wording.

To the other person -- I don't like to spend my time reading bad writing, so no, I don't continue reading stuff if it has horrible style or bad writing, and if it's a book I will not continue. That's why I couldn't stand Harry Potter, because she's a terrible writer, or at least was a terrible writer on the first book. Obviously can't edit either. I'm sure she's a wonderful storyteller, because billions and billions of dollars says she is. But I couldn't get past the awful writing quality myself.
 
JonathanLB said:
I was mostly just joking with you, but it is something I find annoying.

I think style is very important and since most writers seem not to put much care into their material or word choice, it is something that can be annoying. Not saying you are guilty of that, only that for me that's an annoyance.

Also, you can subscribe to all kinds of theories of what you want to do -- who cares what the prop master needs, what the 1st A.D. needs, any of that. You are writing a spec script. I completely disagree with tailoring your script to them. Screw them! You are making it for the reader, let them do their jobs when the time comes. If the script needs to be changed to be a shooting script, it will be done later, when it has already been picked up. Many screenwriting books emphasize this.

Also, camera direction -- avoid it. So no need to capitalize that. Very old-school style, looks horrible, directors and DPs will not pay any attention to it anyway. And your script can be written well without any of it, just by better wording.

To the other person -- I don't like to spend my time reading bad writing, so no, I don't continue reading stuff if it has horrible style or bad writing, and if it's a book I will not continue. That's why I couldn't stand Harry Potter, because she's a terrible writer, or at least was a terrible writer on the first book. Obviously can't edit either. I'm sure she's a wonderful storyteller, because billions and billions of dollars says she is. But I couldn't get past the awful writing quality myself.
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Man you must be god's gift to cinema!! You declare someone's writing "bad" and "unstylistic" based on the capitalization of a few words.

It can be argued that this piece is ALL style. It is clearly an exercise in stylistic writing... yet you try and slag it. Why don't you read the piece? I read it a couple weeks ago and while I don't think it's going to be an award-winning piece, it is well written, interesting and has an element of suspense to it.

Post up some of your work Jonny, I would love to read something of yours it must be good.
 
The first sentence adverb stopped me too, but not just because it was an adverb. It was because it referred to an inanimate object, a flashlight, as being "brave". Ugh...

Then I read the rest of part 1, a little of part 2 and stopped. Here's a couple thoughts on why:

#1 - Way too much description. For example, the opening scene, up to the first "CUT TO" could have been, well, cut to, this:

------------------

INT. CHILD'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

A bunk bed, a small TV, the usual - in the shadows of the moon and a colorful nightlight.

POV from the doorway: there's a BULGE in the
bottom bunk's covers. The CAMERA moves in. A shadow creeps over the bed. The blanket slides down, pulled by an unseen force, revealing...

...a huge STUFFED "Pink Panther."

----------------------------

Just a rough edit there, but 113 words became 59, and very little if anything was sacrificed (IMHO). The reader 'gets it' in half the time. Readers really, really appreciate that, believe me. They hate too much "black" (descriptive text), which is what you've got there. There are many stories of Hollywood types literally tossing scripts in the trash before reading them if they see to much of it. For me, in your script, it just slowed me down unnecessarily, and I wasn't enjoying that. The rest of what I read was similarly overwritten, IMO.

#2 - In a similar way, the story took too long to get going, which is why I stopped reading when I did.

These two issues are very common in screenplays by less than expert writers (and I don't mean to anoint myself as such). They are pretty easily fixed, too.

I do want to add that there was a lot to like about what you wrote. I thought the characters were interesting and the dialog fit them well. I think you have a good ear/eye for all of that. Please don't take my negatives too harshly...

I'll post again if I muster the patience to read the rest. I have to confess these types of issues do turn me off pretty quickly...
 
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Just a note, many pro writers capitalize random words throughout their screenplays. The first one that comes to mind is Alexander Payne and Jim Taylor's Academy Award winning screenplay Sideways. Shane Black also uses this device in his writing.

Just two examples off the top of my brain. Don't let nit-picking like that discourage you, these three writers have all found immense success even with CAPITALIZED words in their scripts.
 
The standard conventions for capitalization (introducing a character, sounds, props. etc.) can be found in any of the well known how-to books like "The Screenwriter's Bible", for example. Basically, stuff is capitalized for many valid reasons all over scripts, but it's generally NOT for reasons like in THIS sentence...
 
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