Sherlock Slate

If ya want backstory on this go to my journal.

But so you's can see it...

A Story For Dean

Dean lay back in the cool grass and gazed up at the indigo sky. It was not yet offically summer -- the night air was a little too crisp for that -- but the sun had only just set, and it was late enough that the world was lulling its self to sleep.
The general population's fear of the dark made stargazing impossible. But Dean lay there in a way that to many said he would defy light pollution, no matter what.
He gazed into that ever deepening shade above him and sighed. Above was the ultimate blank page; one that could never be filled, and one that he had no desire to fill.
He sighed, happily, again and thought of his family and their loving accusations "It's all Gloom and Doom with you!" because it wasn't, even for him, in these moments where the insanity of the modern world slipped away briefly. The traffic only a slight rumble, far away.
The breeze carried through the darkness the lilac like aroma of butterfly bush. He smiled, content that a lot of hard work was done, for now, and a Nerf fight in the end is wrong...
No, this, this was how the movie should end.

Act One Scene One Part 2

Red Ellipse marks beginning of new material. 

Bas:                Connie, I think I saw Esmerelda getting ready for your baking lesson. Why don't you go see?


Connie:           (As she stands) Poppa, you do know Daddy tells me everything, so this will only delay my knowing what you think I don't want to hear.


Bas:                Still allow me some of my illusions darling. (He kisses her forehead.) Hmm? Go run along now.


                        Connie Exits. Bas begins treating Dean.


Bas:                I called Doctor Monroe. (Dean starts to object but before he can get a word out Bas continues) If this was the first or only time you'd stumbled or fallen lately I wouldn't have. But you've been falling at least once a day and today you undeniably hurt yourself.


Dean:              I can tell you exactly what she'll say Bas. She'll say, stay home, sleep and drink non-alcoholic fluids. And the answer is No to the first two. I have a show tonight, I can't stay home being a pussy.


Bas:                It’s not being a pussy Dean. You’re sick!


Dean:              Have you seen the shit I’ve written? That’s hardly new.


Bas: (laughing) Yes, but now you are ill, honey, and that is new.


Dean:              I’m fine, Bas, darling, I’m fine.


Bas:                We’ll see what Doctor Monroe says.


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And Act one Scene Two is "Louis" Scene three to come...
Sherlock Slate

You know we do need to start thinking about dates...

I'm setting my self a December 1st, 2007 deadline for a close to final draft of the script. (it will probably be done well before that.) We should start thinking about when we're going to start looking for locations for rehearsal and performance, when we're going to do auditions, and oh yeah, what day(s) we want to do the performance(s).

Just mentioning stuff, graduate to be.
Sherlock Slate

(no subject)

I think I'm writing funny but I might just be going round the bend. Too many Poppy Z Brite books too close together is maybe not the best influence on my creative juices right now.

I think this is funny stuff, I just don't know if the audience will agree.

Can serial killers be funny?
Sherlock Slate

So yeah for all my badmouthing "The God Mic"...

I'm thinking I may have found a use for it. I'm thinking our MC is going to be the host of a talk radio show, just spewing typical talk radio drabble between our stories (which are going to sort of be news pieces the host is referencing to illustrate points.)

I'm having great fun seeing how many fictional and nonfictional serial killers I can fit into the text.

"Jack" Is now "Louie" (clever no?)and it's flowing pretty good. Not to pressure you or anything but I wrote, (insert awesome bow song here) so yeah.