got nothing to do for a few minutes?
here's my 10-minute play submission for my play writing class.
i don't think it's all that good, but i tried to at least put a twist on a trite method.
...deadlines tend to stomp my creativity like a boot on a cigarette butt.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Genius
Cast:
Bill a writer
Young Bill approximately 12 years old
Sheila Bill's wife
Being gender unimportant
Bill's Mother
Stage: On one side, a desk with a typewriter. The desk is cluttered with paper. Near the desk is a doorway. A bed and nightstand at center stage. A notebook is on the nightstand. On the opposite side, a partition with a doorway or a small room to be used as the dream. Inside the dream is a table with shiny objects to be used as symbols.
Lights illuminate only the section of the stage being used at a time.
[lights on over desk]
(Bill sits at the desk, staring at the typewriter.)
SHEILA
(Carrying luggage, enters doorway near desk.)
Hey babe I'm back! (stops abruptly, scans the room, unimpressed) Wow. What's going on?
BILL
Hiya baby. Been writing. (slightly confused at her return)What day is it?
SHEILA
What day?...Ugh, this again? I hate it when you get like this! It's the 16th, Bill! I've been gone for a week and a half, what's wrong with you? Are you okay?
BILL
Yeah, nothing, just been working a lot. musta lost track...
SHEILA
Christ, Bill, what's going on with you? I don't know if I can deal with this anymore! You said you needed some time to work, I gave you some time, and here you are, worse than when I left. Everything about you has changed! I feel like you've shipped out or somethingare you hiding drugs? I know those herbal pills won't fuck you up like this! What is it? All you do anymore is sit at that damn typewriter, write your stupid stories, take your pills and fall asleep. I want you back, Billyou were never like this before... You didn't even leave the house while I was away, did you?
BILL
Well, good to see you too, baby, and no, I'm not taking drugs, I've just been really busy. I think I'm on to something huge here, something bigger than all the other stuff. Things will change.
SHEILA
What are you talking about, 'bigger than the other stuff?' Are you serious? It's not like you're a scientist or something, (grabs a handful of papers) this is fiction, Bill, fiction! So you got lucky with a couple of your stories, made a million bucks and spawned a million conspiracy-theory websites full of... of jerk-off material for trekkies and...paranoids, but it's all just bullshit in the end...you still know that, don't you? I worry about you, ya know... I don't think you're healthy, babe.
BILL
Alright, listenI don't think it's just bullshit anymore. It's real, I swear! I think it's the pills. When I take the valerian, chamomile and Ambien I have these lucid dreams, and once I'm...awake in my dreams, I go to this place that has all these weird...like, symbol-things. I study them and they...reveal the most amazing things. I know how it sounds, but it's worked so far, hasn't it? I write the stuff down on that notepad while I'm still dreaming--that's where the last two stories came from. Remember that one psychology theory I was telling you about, that there's a uh, collective unconscious? I think I might be proving it.
SHEILA
First of all, I don't like that you take sleep meds, much less experiment and mix them with other stuff, and second, do you hear yourself? I mean, that's just crazy-- there is no magical pill-way to the collective unconscious or whatever, and there's no little shed full of the secrets of life in your dreams or anyone else's. If there were, they would have discovered it years ago. If it were real, there wouldn't be any problems in the world, now would there?
BILL
It doesn't work like thatin my dreams, it's guarded, but I don't see the guards. This place in my dreams, it's like a room that I'm suddenly in, and after just a few seconds of looking around, I feel like I have to grab as many of the things I can carry and then sneak out.
SHEILA
You know that these are just dreams, right?
BILL
I think that they have to be, but I'm not sure anymore. It feels so real that it's scary. I mean-- you see the stuff I've been writing, you see how it's been selling...isn't that real enough?
SHEILA
But it's still just fiction! The ideas--they're just weird dreams from all the pills!
BILL
I just want to finish this manuscript, then I swear things will go back to normal, the way they used to be. I'll quit taking the pills, but right now I'm so close!
SHEILA
Dammit, baby, you know I love you, I really do, but I can't be around you when you're like this. I'm going out, I've got some things I need to do. I'm gonna stay at Tracy's tonight, but I'll be back tomorrow, ok?
BILL
Ok babe.
SHEILA
Take a break, would ya? You're driving yourself crazy! Clean up a bit, we'll have lunch tomorrow. (exiting doorway) And take the trash out!
BILL
(to the closed door)
Alright, babe...seeya.
(Bill takes the sleeping pills, lies on the bed, [lights out] Bill enters the dream [lights on.] Bill picks up and examines one of the symbols. Enter Being.)
BEING
Excuse me sir, you are not authorized to be here.
BILL
Uh, I was just gathering my things...
BEING
No, these are not for you. You may not just take what you want, these are for the benefit or detriment of all, and we will allot what goes to whom.
BILL
What?...We? who is we?
BEING
The Association of Collective Knowledge. We manage what information may or may not be known by humankind at any point.
BILL
I...I don't...this isn't...
BEING
You don't understand what it is you are perceiving, perhaps?
BILL
Uh...yeah
BEING
Of course you don't. What you are is a thief, and what you've been doing here is committing a crime on a grander scale than you can imagine. We've allowed it to happen thus far, but we also know that you cannot understand fully the implications of what you have done, nor the consequences of what you may do with what you take from here.
BILL
But I...I'm just a writer! I just write stories, and this place gives me great ideas, things I never would have thought of.
BEING
Never should have thought of, for sure, but that's not up to you, William, that's up to us. What you need to understand is that all you've done is stolen some of the pieces that were not yet in play; you've disrupted the sequence as far as we can allow, and now you must be stopped before you destroy the entire project.
BILL
Project? What the hell is going on here? This is MY head, why is this happening--this is just a dream!
BEING
And to the brink of madness he goes, just like the rest of them.
(sedates Bill)
BILL
No!
BEING
(Walking with and talking to Bill, sedated, as he slowly leaves the dream, gets back into the bed. Being's voice is monotonous, articulate and rather fast, feeding the information into Bill's ear as he falls asleep)
Now that you're calm, allow me to explain this to you in terms that you can understand. The Association introduces bits of information to humankind. You revere these individuals as geniuses. The result is progression to the next section in the necessary sequence of human existence. The project is complete when humankind completes their own existence project, at which point they will have become the Association, and the Association will have become those beyond the Association, and so on. We have allowed you to take parts of what will eventually lead to the next progression, but we cannot allow it to happen at this point. You've stolen your last great idea, and unfortunately for you, you will not keep this one. (leaning over sleeping Bill)
Good morning, Bill. [lights out]
(Bill is replaced by Young Bill. [lights on] Bill's mother enters, stands next to Being, still leaning over sleeping young Bill)
Good morning, Bill
BILL'S MOTHER
(in unison with Being)
Good morning, Bill.
(Being exits)
(feeling Bill's forehead) Yep, still a bit warm. Alright mister, get up, we're going to the doctor.
YOUNG BILL
I don't feel so good...had really weird dreams... can't really remember...
BILL'S MOTHER
That's because you're sick. Come on, get dressed. (exits)
(Young Bill slowly arises and gets out of bed, exits. A symbol from the dream lies on the bed where Bill was.)
[lights out]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
certainly, the theater nerds in my class will destroy me for the cop-out ending, and now that i think about it, i consider all the endings to my deadline-based fiction to be cop-outs. perhaps i'm discovering not only my signature style but also the reason why i'll probably never make it as a writer.
what i do like about it is that i left it wide open to interpretation, and the mind-bending concept of being sedated in a dream within a dream.
perhaps i should have some fifth-graders perform it.
here's my 10-minute play submission for my play writing class.
i don't think it's all that good, but i tried to at least put a twist on a trite method.
...deadlines tend to stomp my creativity like a boot on a cigarette butt.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Genius
Cast:
Bill a writer
Young Bill approximately 12 years old
Sheila Bill's wife
Being gender unimportant
Bill's Mother
Stage: On one side, a desk with a typewriter. The desk is cluttered with paper. Near the desk is a doorway. A bed and nightstand at center stage. A notebook is on the nightstand. On the opposite side, a partition with a doorway or a small room to be used as the dream. Inside the dream is a table with shiny objects to be used as symbols.
Lights illuminate only the section of the stage being used at a time.
[lights on over desk]
(Bill sits at the desk, staring at the typewriter.)
SHEILA
(Carrying luggage, enters doorway near desk.)
Hey babe I'm back! (stops abruptly, scans the room, unimpressed) Wow. What's going on?
BILL
Hiya baby. Been writing. (slightly confused at her return)What day is it?
SHEILA
What day?...Ugh, this again? I hate it when you get like this! It's the 16th, Bill! I've been gone for a week and a half, what's wrong with you? Are you okay?
BILL
Yeah, nothing, just been working a lot. musta lost track...
SHEILA
Christ, Bill, what's going on with you? I don't know if I can deal with this anymore! You said you needed some time to work, I gave you some time, and here you are, worse than when I left. Everything about you has changed! I feel like you've shipped out or somethingare you hiding drugs? I know those herbal pills won't fuck you up like this! What is it? All you do anymore is sit at that damn typewriter, write your stupid stories, take your pills and fall asleep. I want you back, Billyou were never like this before... You didn't even leave the house while I was away, did you?
BILL
Well, good to see you too, baby, and no, I'm not taking drugs, I've just been really busy. I think I'm on to something huge here, something bigger than all the other stuff. Things will change.
SHEILA
What are you talking about, 'bigger than the other stuff?' Are you serious? It's not like you're a scientist or something, (grabs a handful of papers) this is fiction, Bill, fiction! So you got lucky with a couple of your stories, made a million bucks and spawned a million conspiracy-theory websites full of... of jerk-off material for trekkies and...paranoids, but it's all just bullshit in the end...you still know that, don't you? I worry about you, ya know... I don't think you're healthy, babe.
BILL
Alright, listenI don't think it's just bullshit anymore. It's real, I swear! I think it's the pills. When I take the valerian, chamomile and Ambien I have these lucid dreams, and once I'm...awake in my dreams, I go to this place that has all these weird...like, symbol-things. I study them and they...reveal the most amazing things. I know how it sounds, but it's worked so far, hasn't it? I write the stuff down on that notepad while I'm still dreaming--that's where the last two stories came from. Remember that one psychology theory I was telling you about, that there's a uh, collective unconscious? I think I might be proving it.
SHEILA
First of all, I don't like that you take sleep meds, much less experiment and mix them with other stuff, and second, do you hear yourself? I mean, that's just crazy-- there is no magical pill-way to the collective unconscious or whatever, and there's no little shed full of the secrets of life in your dreams or anyone else's. If there were, they would have discovered it years ago. If it were real, there wouldn't be any problems in the world, now would there?
BILL
It doesn't work like thatin my dreams, it's guarded, but I don't see the guards. This place in my dreams, it's like a room that I'm suddenly in, and after just a few seconds of looking around, I feel like I have to grab as many of the things I can carry and then sneak out.
SHEILA
You know that these are just dreams, right?
BILL
I think that they have to be, but I'm not sure anymore. It feels so real that it's scary. I mean-- you see the stuff I've been writing, you see how it's been selling...isn't that real enough?
SHEILA
But it's still just fiction! The ideas--they're just weird dreams from all the pills!
BILL
I just want to finish this manuscript, then I swear things will go back to normal, the way they used to be. I'll quit taking the pills, but right now I'm so close!
SHEILA
Dammit, baby, you know I love you, I really do, but I can't be around you when you're like this. I'm going out, I've got some things I need to do. I'm gonna stay at Tracy's tonight, but I'll be back tomorrow, ok?
BILL
Ok babe.
SHEILA
Take a break, would ya? You're driving yourself crazy! Clean up a bit, we'll have lunch tomorrow. (exiting doorway) And take the trash out!
BILL
(to the closed door)
Alright, babe...seeya.
(Bill takes the sleeping pills, lies on the bed, [lights out] Bill enters the dream [lights on.] Bill picks up and examines one of the symbols. Enter Being.)
BEING
Excuse me sir, you are not authorized to be here.
BILL
Uh, I was just gathering my things...
BEING
No, these are not for you. You may not just take what you want, these are for the benefit or detriment of all, and we will allot what goes to whom.
BILL
What?...We? who is we?
BEING
The Association of Collective Knowledge. We manage what information may or may not be known by humankind at any point.
BILL
I...I don't...this isn't...
BEING
You don't understand what it is you are perceiving, perhaps?
BILL
Uh...yeah
BEING
Of course you don't. What you are is a thief, and what you've been doing here is committing a crime on a grander scale than you can imagine. We've allowed it to happen thus far, but we also know that you cannot understand fully the implications of what you have done, nor the consequences of what you may do with what you take from here.
BILL
But I...I'm just a writer! I just write stories, and this place gives me great ideas, things I never would have thought of.
BEING
Never should have thought of, for sure, but that's not up to you, William, that's up to us. What you need to understand is that all you've done is stolen some of the pieces that were not yet in play; you've disrupted the sequence as far as we can allow, and now you must be stopped before you destroy the entire project.
BILL
Project? What the hell is going on here? This is MY head, why is this happening--this is just a dream!
BEING
And to the brink of madness he goes, just like the rest of them.
(sedates Bill)
BILL
No!
BEING
(Walking with and talking to Bill, sedated, as he slowly leaves the dream, gets back into the bed. Being's voice is monotonous, articulate and rather fast, feeding the information into Bill's ear as he falls asleep)
Now that you're calm, allow me to explain this to you in terms that you can understand. The Association introduces bits of information to humankind. You revere these individuals as geniuses. The result is progression to the next section in the necessary sequence of human existence. The project is complete when humankind completes their own existence project, at which point they will have become the Association, and the Association will have become those beyond the Association, and so on. We have allowed you to take parts of what will eventually lead to the next progression, but we cannot allow it to happen at this point. You've stolen your last great idea, and unfortunately for you, you will not keep this one. (leaning over sleeping Bill)
Good morning, Bill. [lights out]
(Bill is replaced by Young Bill. [lights on] Bill's mother enters, stands next to Being, still leaning over sleeping young Bill)
Good morning, Bill
BILL'S MOTHER
(in unison with Being)
Good morning, Bill.
(Being exits)
(feeling Bill's forehead) Yep, still a bit warm. Alright mister, get up, we're going to the doctor.
YOUNG BILL
I don't feel so good...had really weird dreams... can't really remember...
BILL'S MOTHER
That's because you're sick. Come on, get dressed. (exits)
(Young Bill slowly arises and gets out of bed, exits. A symbol from the dream lies on the bed where Bill was.)
[lights out]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
certainly, the theater nerds in my class will destroy me for the cop-out ending, and now that i think about it, i consider all the endings to my deadline-based fiction to be cop-outs. perhaps i'm discovering not only my signature style but also the reason why i'll probably never make it as a writer.
what i do like about it is that i left it wide open to interpretation, and the mind-bending concept of being sedated in a dream within a dream.
perhaps i should have some fifth-graders perform it.