I work at two colleges, one of which is a medical school, and so today marks the first day for our new residents and the entire place feels like the first day of school. What’s even more strange is that it feels like a new year for me as well. Two big things are going on right now that I can’t really get into, mostly for fear of jinxing it, but the feeling in the air is infectious and the year ahead looks like it might change everything. At least I’m hopeful. And ready for it. 100%.
I wrapped up the third draft of the new project, which will be called THE BOY KING. I’m hoping to start shooting in late-October or early-November. The budget at this point is still being worked out, but it won’t go beyond ‘micro’.
INT. BEDROOM – PREDAWN
COLE (10), lies in bed as the soft morning light slips across his face. His FATHER, thick and bearded, enters. Quietly kneels beside Cole’s bed. His words whisper off his coffee stained breath.
FATHER
I’m going now. I need you to be strong... Need you to watch over your brother and sister. Protect them. You understand?
Cole nods.
FATHER
I’m not asking them, only you, because I know you can handle it. You’re stronger than they are.
A moment, then Cole’s father disappears out the door.
Thanks to the fine folks at the Webster Film Series, I can’t wait to see TREELESS MOUNTAIN this weekend. I’m seriously considering going all three nights.
A long drifting view over a forest, the tops of Douglas Fir trees forming pyramids of green on a sloping mountainside that seem to go on forever and lead to a deep river valley with a gigantic hydro-electric dam in the distance.
EXT. UNDER A BRIDGE – DAY
Sawed logs jutting from a hillside, dripping wet, knurled branches and roots twist into the earth and the rushing water of a stream. Fog drifts by a figure:
BLAKE
He sits on one of the logs under a colossal fallen tree overhanging the spray from a waterfall.
EXT. THE NEIGHBORHOOD – LATE AT NIGHT
Blake is walking on a wet street passing large houses with gardens, spherical and conical shaped shrubs and amber front gate lights drift by slowly, we follow him sometimes down the middle of the road and sometimes on the edge near the sidewalk.
The sky is growing brighter.
He walks off the road up a curved driveway.
At the end of the curve is an enormous Scottish Arts and Crafts styled oversized wooden lake house with a pleasantly sloping Cascade roof.
Job #2 has been closed for the last week and it’s pretty neat to see how much more writing I can get done when I’m only working 40 hours a week and not 60.
I have this script that I’m going to be shooting in the fall, and I just figured out what was holding it back. This morning, as I was walking to work, I was listening to something on my iPod (I need to figure out what it was ASAP) and the entire ending of the new draft became very, very clear. It’s going to be much darker, and I’m going somewhere were I haven’t gone before with any of the scripts I’ve written to direct, but I think I can pull it off.
I guess we’ll see.
Otherwise, it’s just more queries out the door. I haven’t been getting any responses recently… Maybe it’s time to reconsider the query letter… or maybe it’s just me… Maybe if I drink enough coffee I’ll have another vision quest and figure it all out.
It’s always strange to go from a script where you’ve just written a chase through Dupont Circle, to a script in which you realize you’re going to have to pay for every little thing you write out of your own pocket. That’s probably why it’s so liberating to go from the small script to the bigger, sell-out script.
The goal, as it were, is to have a revised draft by Sunday night. Knock on wood, cross your fingers, spit into the wind… We’ll see.
My fingers are bleeding, my leg is shaking from too much coffee, but damn if this draft doesn’t sparkle. I don’t think I’ve ever been as pleased with a draft as this one. Now, let’s hope I’m not the only one.
And while I’m waiting, I’ve got a script I need to rewrite so I can shoot it in the fall.
