[Script] Unfood - Page 31

CONTINUED: 31. Freight tries to break the chair with his hands. He is utterly unsuccessful. He blinks and sighs. FREIGHT Back in a second. Freight returns with an axe and heaves it above his head but doesn’t make even a dent in the thing in the slightest. He tries again and drops the axe as he does so. He grunts and picks up the axe a third time and lets into it, only not making any impact at all. Freight stares at Bob. FREIGHT Right. So are you going to help or what? BOB (Clicks happily and begins to saw away at the chair with a saw attachment that comes from inside his bowels) SHOT: INT – CAPTAIN’S QUARTERS – DAY The chair is reduced to splinters. SHOT: INT – MESS – DAY Bob watches while Freight puts the chopped up chair into the creator. Freight gets a splinter in his hand and swears. The creator makes a Souffle. SHOT: INT – MED BAY Freight eats the souffle with one hand whilst the med bay treats and bandages the other. He gives a thumb’s up to Bob. SCENE 10 - INT - BRIDGE - DAY Freight is peering at the ship, trying to figure various elements out. He flips various switches on the bridge control at random trying to figure things out. Occasionally the ship says: (CONTINUED) CONTINUED:

When Writing Can Literally Kill You

I have never considered myself a "real" artist even though that is a lie.  Many if not most artists draw their stuff to create either from the dark side of their emotional palate or the entire thing.  While I do draw from all my experience, I cannot function without some stability.

We have no apartment and trying to find one was so much stress that combined with unemployment plus a theft plus a betrayal from one if our would be friends in Miami caused me to have the closest thing to a nervous breakdown I am actually capable of having.

Right now, there is just no energy for it.  Ignoring my hatred of lost work, there is also the fact that I kind if have to fool myself six or seven different ways to write this and all my capacity for self deception needs to focus on finding a job right now.

So with heavy heart I have to give up nanowrmo this year.   Next year if I have a job and we have a place.

This may be the last update for a while

Letters to Rhombus 2

Rhombus answers more letters from fictional people. Write a real one.  Send it to redanvilcreative@gmail.com

Check out this episode!

NaNoNaNooooo

So.

This is a life goal.

But I've tried this already and failed miserably both times, once was semi official even if I didn't register and the other time was with Tossing Grenades at Windmills earlier this year and I have been stuck stuck stuck stuck stuck on chapter 12 for months taking victory in working on a few words (emphasis) WORDS a day.

Nanowrimo is 50000 in one month.  Assuming at least 5 bad days, that's 25 good days at 2000 words each.  2000 words is something that I have written in an hour....

But...

BUT

The first time was so bad (as in the quality of the work) I actually stopped and wrote seven extra pages just murdering my characters again and again in different ways

The second time was much better but Grenademan is my Mickey Mouse....he is FUN to write and chapter 12 is KILLING me....granted, I'm following a script rather than going where my imagination takes me but...

I had hoped to have everything planned out....right now I have just one of three main lines vaguely mapped out with delusions of a second (Really, who REALLY wants to read about a psychopathic vigilante mouse?...maybe if it actually was Mickey Mouse with a stiletto....) and a title...and a vague tie in to a rather interesting french philosopher who liked titles.

I am unemployed at the moment which is draining and even if I get a job there will be no fuel of reserve.  And even though I have writing fans, this just won't FEEL the same as GMVZ....

So ...

I'm insane.

This will likely fail.

We're still going to an event this sunday and I'm likely registering on the site.

To quote the dwarf...

"Small chance of success.  Certain destruction? What are we waiting for?"

[Script] Unfood - Page 30

CONTINUED: 30. BOB (Clicks) FREIGHT That’s not food Bob. BOB (Clicks twice) FREIGHT What? BOB (Clicks) FREIGHT I...(beat) Freight types into the computer a few moments. FREIGHT Well, I’ll be a son of a bitch. Bob doesn’t say anything. FREIGHT I’ll be right down. Oh and Bob? Bob perks up a moment but doesn’t say anything. FREIGHT I apologize. BOB (Clicks amiably) Freight gets up and leaves. INT – CAPTAIN’S QUARTERS – DAY Freight walks in and sees Bob at the chair. He appraises the chair up and down. FREIGHT God damn it Bob, this is the mother load. I owe you a can of oil! BOB (Clicks once happily) (CONTINUED)

[Script] Unfood - Page 29

CONTINUED: 29. BOB (Clicks once loudly with a trumpet sound.) FREIGHT Great. Let’s get to work. BOB (Clicks once) FREIGHT I appreciate the help. SCENE 9 – INT – SHIP – DAY Bob searches around. Montage of Bob seeking in various corridors. Bob does not immediately find anything. Shot three times back and forth between Bob probing various quarters. Freight is happy. Bob looks. Freight is bored. Bob looks. Freight is despondent. There is a noise on the console, while Freight is asleep. He suddenly wakes up, searches around confused for a few moments. Then he suddenly turns to stares at the screen. FREIGHT Bob? BOB (Clicks) FREIGHT Bob! Tell me you found something! BOB (Clicks) FREIGHT Fantastic! What is it? BOB (Clicks) INT – CLOSE SHOT OF THE SCREEN – DAY Bob shows a leather chair. FREIGHT What the HELL? (CONTINUED)

My expidition to Lint Land

So my name is Glerda Dofamaton.  I am administrative assistant ...I am sorry "executive assistant" (with the same pay) to E.P. Blingermeter, who Rhombus has arranged to take over the dead guy/not dead guy's writing blog, but Mr. Blingermeyer is on an expidition involving talking ponies of pastel colors.  So before Rhombus could get Emmit Other or Redwin Tursor, EP said I should just slap something together.

Please note I am not getting paid for this and to me you are fictional so I really don't care about your opinion.   In fact,  when Rhombus explained the whole concept to me I found the idea offensive.   I am real.  You are just shadows on some ghost bridge and really who cares about "stories" anyway.

And Rhombus didn't say what this had to be about so I am writing about this.

....Apparently I have to include some kind of content.  Whatever that means. I am not a writer. 

E.P.'s first expedition was to the place where all the things missing in the dryer go.  Please note,  they dont actually go there.  People just believe they do.  Well, while there were some socks, it was mainly just a lot of lint. Some of the artidacts recovered were worth some money but not many.

What upset me so much was the fact that all if Mr Blingermeyers clothing was covered in cakes of pernicious supernatural lint.  It took six trips to the dry cleaner.

And who do you think had to take care of that? Exactly.