So You Wanna’ Write For Experimental Television Dramas

This is turning into a very weird lesson in how to adapt to new situations.

It’s all kind of complicated because after a meeting with the other writer yesterday, we’ve decided that for various reasons, simply saying, “I’ll write Episode 1, you write Episode 2, then I’ll do 3, you do 4…” just won’t work. The series is so heavily geared towards being a character study, with character moments (Because it is, after all, being generated by the improvisations of actors) that the traditional narrative structure won’t work. So instead we just picked characters we like and will be writing them over the course of the 8 episodes of this mini, and then get together and see what we’ve got for each episode, and then figure out how to mesh it all, have one more pass to integrate the scripts, then send them off to the producers and director, who will tell us where they want to make changes, what we’ve downplayed too much and need to play up. Once they’re happy, the scripts will go the broadcasters to look at, and they’ll get back to the producers and director and tell them “This is played up too much, you need to tone it down,” and they’ll come back to us and tell us to put it back the way it was before they told us to play it up.

Some of the limitations that we’re already slapped with going into this project. This has all been made very clear by meetings the producers have had with the MDA (Media Development Authority) of Singapore.

1) Absolutely ZERO words, gestures, expressions that portray or even IMPLY that homosexuality exists. Because as we all know, it’s a myth, and television must portray the reality of that.

2) ZERO criticism of any specific religion. Use of the word “God” is allowed, but if it gets MORE specific, starts naming “Allah”, “Jesus”, “Christianity” “Buddhism” or anything else, and if it should say anything like “isn’t that weird?” or “That’s a bit silly” of any specific religion, YANK. No go to air.

3) Under no circumstances is anyone to make any political references. Not about the regional situations, and ABSOLUTELY NOT about the local political situation. I have the feeling that criticism of American politics is allowed, perhaps even welcome, especially if such criticism portrays Singapore politics in a good light, but NO commentary about the local situation.

If any of these conditions are breached, the script is unacceptable.

So what I’m doing today (Aside from other things related to marriage) is looking at the characters I’ve picked and thinking about what’s going to happen over the course of eight episodes. I won’t worry about timing just yet, I’ll just look at each one and say okay, “This’ll happen in ep 1, and this’ll happen in ep 2″ and just fill it up. When I meet with the other writer on Saturday, she’ll show me what she’s come up with, and we’ll just start trading situations where I’ll lose an ep 5 situation for her characters and in exchange, I get some Ep 7 time for a major catharsis, etc, etc. Then we’ll collate that complete outline/arc for the series, and present that to the Powers That Be. Once they’ve approved it, the month of October is just spent doing what I’m oh so familiar with, just sitting down and Writing The Damn Thing.

But for now, I need to call up some Solemnizers and ask them, “Hey, you free on October 19th?”

Crap

I just watched Million Dollar Baby. I came into it with zero foreknowledge except that it had Clint Eastwood, Hillary Swank, had some boxing in it and won some Oscars.

I think I need to sit down and pick up the pieces of my heart it just broke all over the floor.

My Precious

This is something of an amazingly uncharacteristic post. Mostly because it’s so domestic. Most of the time with a male blog, you’ll find almost no mention of an impending marriage simply because I suspect it’s too embarrassing for most men to deal with and it’s regarded as a girly thing. Not being a particularly masculine guy to begin with, I’m not having this problem.

So we did wedding stuff today. Well, we did it this afternoon. My morning was spent talking to the other writer about the upcoming project. The talk mostly consisted of us staring at each other across a table, shaking our head and muttering, “What the hell are we going to do?” and then not knowing for several more minutes until the entire meeting had elapsed. Productive, no?

Once that meeting and the ones with the producers and directors was over, we went into town to look at possible places to hold the wedding. The Fiance’s parents have decided to be nice to us and splurge a little on the traditional Singapore Wedding Night At A Hotel, so we were looking at nice little small spaces that would be a little more in line with the kind of thing that we like and where a small group of people could assemble for what in Singapore is referred to as the Solemnization. The way it works here, because of the different religions, is the LEGAL recognition of a wedding must be “solemnized” before an appropriate city representative/justice of the peace type. Then the Real Wedding can take place. Unless of course, you’re a Godless heathen, in which case the solemnization IS the wedding.

We have settled on the Gallery Hotel. Not only is it kind of neat and designer-y looking, but the bar out back, the Liquid Room, happens to be where we first laid eyes on each other, even though we wouldn’t actually talk or get together for a few years after that initial awareness of each other’s existence. And just across the street is the Book Cafe, which is one of my favorite cafes in the entire island anyway.

We have also picked up the wedding rings. This all went surprisingly fast. The final selection of rings is vaguely Elvish in design, at least with the swirly bits on the top, so I suppose you can’t go wrong with forces of Tolkien moving you towards your destiny. I’m kind of amazed that these two processes were so quick and painless. A wedding venue, and the rings all picked up in one afternoon. Not too shabby.

Annnnd I’ve got an article for my video game magazine gig that still needs some finishing up, but at least it’s mostly done.

Master Thespian

I am so not an actor.

As part of that project I’ve recently gotten attached to, I spent 8 hours in a rehearsal space today, watching a bunch of actors go through various warm up exercises and improvisation sessions. I spent the entire time more or less just thanking the universe that I was not an actor. I have great respect for actors and equally great fear of them. I think that all creative types need to be crazy, but the actor is probably the most outwardly, extorvertedly crazy of all the artistic pursuits, since their medium of expression is themselves, and hence to pay attention to their work, you must pay attention to them. This runs completely counter to writing where the writer just disappears and lets the work stand on it’s own once it’s finished. Ditto for the painter. Or even the musician if you record the performance.

It was nice to be back in that atmosphere of creativity with a bunch of people, and I am thankful for that experience. But the kind of creativity I prefer (mostly meetings in cafes or someone’s dinner party just having a rousing discussion of ideas) runs counter to the kind of creativity an actor needs, which consists of games, exercises with lots of yelling, breathing and warm ups, and a whole lotta’ touching of each other. And of course, the collaboration. Unless you’re doing a monologue, being an actor means working with other actors, and of course, a director. It was a jarring experience to see them get stopped in the middle of what they were doing to take some direction here and there. For me, the entire creative experience is just me typing away at whatever I want and staring at the screen periodically to wonder if it makes any sense, then carrying on. No one else–at least during the formation of the first draft–tells me what to do, and when it comes to actually doing the work, to finishing it, no one else except me does it.

Actors require a lot of trust. Actors put themselves out there. They lean on each other, they lean on the director, and they take a lot of risks with the performance. Their job, in effect, is to try and make ideas as real as possible. As a writer, all I have to care about really is coming up with the idea itself.

So while this is shaping up to be a cool experience, and I’m pretty sure there are aspects of this job that I will enjoy–especially watching–it is also once again reinforcing with concrete-laden, hammer-like blows my extreme preference for being someone that just comes up with this stuff and doesn’t have to worry about what other people do with it.

Back In The Saddle

Oh those whacky pre-production meetings…

So on top of the fact that we’ve decided to get married and now have to find a new replacement place to live in November, we’re both monstrously busy. I’m still pounding away at that Kiddy Non-Fiction book (Hopefully I can send off draft 2 by Monday) and on top of this, the same people who hired me for that are also putting me through the initial paces of this 8 episode mini-series they’re doing.

I just came back from one of the pre-production meetings. There’s an awful lot of documentation going on, one guy flits around from one corner of the meeting room to the other with digital video camera, taking down everything for posterity’s sake, or potentially some DVD extra, or documentary about the making of show, which, of course, I can’t talk about.

I think I am safe in mentioning however that there is a strong element of improvisation involved, which is why my position as one of the writers is tricky, as it means having to adapt and work with whatever is given to me, as opposed to giving the material to the actors and letting them worry about how to execute what I just made up. Now I’m in their position.

This will keep me occupied for the next couple of months, and will involve a lot of sitting around in rehearsal spaces watching actors do their thing and then walking away thinking, “Crap, what do I do with this?!?”

Scary. But should also be fun.

Oh yeah, and there’s still a children’s book to write. So to take stock, I am looking at my plate and what I see is:

1) Finish commissioned kiddie book.
2) Work on mini-series.
3) Get married.
4) Find new place to live.
5) Start on children’s novel.
6) Worry about what’s happening with The Pale Summer
7) Get the Wife (As she will be next month) her Canadian PR.
Look to the horizon for the Canada move.

Hm… Okay, that seems to be enough for now. Dear Life, no more surprises please, I’m quite good with what I’ve got…

The Reality Check

In light of this morning’s events, it looks like a November move to Vancouver probably won’t be possible.

I had to go down to get my passport renewed and squared away anyhow (Which was as bureaucratic as the last time, but with fewer hiccups) and while I was down there, the fiance tagged along to see about how we would go about getting her the legal capacity to stay in Canada.

It turns out that the two step process of 1) Become a permanent resident, and 2) Spend a certain number of years as a permanent resident before becoming a citizen, must first be followed by an approximate 6 month period. That, apparently, is how long it takes for the Singapore and Canadian governments to process a request for PR status for a Singapore citizen, if they are a married/common law partner to a Canadian national.

Which means, obviously, that November is totally out of the question, and a move in spring is definitely more feasible. That seems to be the new plan.

However, to make things a little easier, I have an announcement to make:

We are getting married in October. The 19th, it looks like at the moment.

I know that is horrifyingly short notice, especially for friends in Canada who had told me for years that they dreamed of the moment of my wedding when they could rub my face in it and tell me I was dead wrong… but all I can say is, the chance is there, it’s just that you’ve got just a little over a month to see to the arrangements.

It’s going to be a very a small, intimate thing, no big reception, and it might even take place just at home, with only a few friends present (We’ll need to two legal witnesses, the Fiance has already picked hers, leaving mine up in the air) and then… maybe just go to a restaurant or something, or even sit back afterwards and just have conversation and coffee… But that’s kind of the way I’d always hoped my wedding would be; a small thing with only people I counted as friends present, and no big hoopla afterwards.

Obviously with our financial status, there won’t be any big hotel stays, or even a honeymoon at this point (That will have to wait until we’re not scrimping and saving for the Canada move) but I don’t really feel the lack. A vacation is nice, but being finally hitched to The One is the most important thing, and since I’m getting that, what the hell else can I complain about?

So the score thus far:

Vancouver in November: No go.

Wedding in October: Hell yeah.

Gentlemen, start your engines.

Out On The Streets

That will be the condition we are about to find ourselves in within the next two months.

For reasons that have yet to be explained, the apartment we have been happily living in for nearly three years now is no longer to going to be available to us once our lease expires in November. I got a call from the Landlord last night with the odd request, “When your lease expires I’ll be needing your apartment, but you don’t have to pay your October rent, do you understand what I’m saying?”

To which my reply was, “So… you’re saying we have to be out by November?”

“Yes.”

“Ah.”


So we’re going to be homeless in the month of November.

On the other hand, perhaps this is a sign.

We’ve been looking at it, and it seems like a lot of things are now converging on November. My passport expires that month. So does my Employment Pass here in Singapore. Now we’re without a home in the same month. We’ve been talking about it and although we haven’t totally nailed ourselves down to anything yet, the one thing that keeps coming back is, “Maybe it’s time to go back to Canada.”

So while we’re still talking about it, we’re not averse to the possibility that maybe this Christmas might be celeberated in Vancouver. We’ll have to see. I’d need to look into the job situation there and pretty much take whatever is offered whether that’s a writing gig, a book store cashier, or even a fast food job if it comes to that. Fortunately–or so I tell myself–we’re young enough that even if we get hit with the poverty stick for a while, we should be able to survive it.

Oh well. This may not be the smartest move in the history of smart moves, but it is a change, and it seems like destiny, if such a thing exists, is conspiring to push us towards it. It’s certainly pointing it’s finger in that direction repeatedly with a lot of spitting and gesticulation…

Super Mega Formation World Defense Attack

It occurs to me that perhaps what the world really needs is for Japan to prominently take the lead as the governing super-power. Were this to happen, one of the first and most critical things would be a revamp of the crisis/military response process, and it might go something like this:

Reporter: I’m here today with Sushi Kamikaze, the new head of the World Defense Force. How are you, Sushi?

Sushi: I’m good, thanks for asking.

Reporter: Swell. Now, about these new reforms in military and crisis intervention. What have you whacky guys cooked up?

Sushi: I’m glad you asked. We went to the drawing board and we thought long and hard about it, and asked the tough question. “What does the world need? What can solve most of the problems put before it?” After a lot of deliberation, Playstation gaming, anime viewing and manga reading, our crack team of researchers came up with an answer. This is it.

[Sushi gestures towards green fields. A fire truck ambles over the hill]

Reporter: That’s it? A firetruck?

Sushi: Ah, but wait, there’s more.

[Firetruck is quickly followed by VTOL capable plane, medi-vac helicopter, armored personnel carrier, and a speed boat inexplicably built with wheels.]

Sushi: SUPER COOL TRANSFORMATION SEQUENCE NOOOOOOW!

[The vehicles all transform into massive looking humanoid robots]

Reporter: Well put me in a dress and call me Sally, you’ve made giant robots!

Sushi: That’s right! Giant transformable robots! Only the mighty morphing mettle of warriors such as these is up to the task of the modern crises we face! They can rescue kittens and fight giant radioactive mutants!

Reporter: That’s one heck of a military iniative.

Sushi: But wait, there’s more! INEXPLICABLE BOLTS OF LIGHTNING AND MUSIC MONTAAAAAGE!

[Lightning bolts appear from nowhere, surrounding each giant robot as they transform yet again into the parts of a super, massive robot, combining to form it. It raises a sword that glints in the air]

Reporter: WOW, IT’S HUGE!

Sushi: Yup, the ultimate defense system!

Reporter: So it’s sentient?

Sushi: Of course not! Then it would take over the world. SUPER GYMNASTIC INTRO!

[Giant Robot disassambles. Pilots of each robot, dressed in brightly colored tights with helmets somersault and back flip their way out of the robots, announcing their moves as they execute them in the air.]

Red Guy: ULTRA LEADER DOUBLE FLIP!

Yellow Girl: MAJOR SLUTTY LEG SPLITS!

Blue Guy: POINTLESS SWISHING OF ARMS RAPIDLY WHILE DESCENDING!

Green Guy: TUMBLING LIKE A KNOCKED BOWLING PIN SPIN!

Pink Girl: FLUTTERING OF SUPERFLUOUS SKIRT AND JIGGLING OF MASSIVE CLEAVAAAAAAAGE!

All of them: WE ARE THE PRIMARY COLORED WARRIORS EXCEPT FOR THE PINK ONE!

[They strike battle poses, swords shining in air]

Reporter: Wow.

Sushi: And I sit in the mountain fortress, coordinating their efforts and occasionally getting kidnapped!

Reporter: Hey! Do they have real identities?

Sushi: Of course!

Reporter: Will you tell me?

Sushi: No! Go away!

Reporter: Can I be the reporter that constantly tries to find and prove their identities, thus complicating their attempts to have lives and save the world at the same time?

Sushi: Uh… sure!

Reporter: Cool! Can I take pictures of the pink and yellow ones in the shower and post the pictures on the internet?

Sushi: Only if I get glossies to approve first.

Reporter: Deal.

Post Script:

Dear Singapore Government,

Despite the fact that I have an unflattering and potentially racist portrayal of Japanese people in this blog entry, please do not charge me with seditious acts of treason on my blog. Thank you for your consideration, and not carrying me off into the night never to be heard from again.

Decline

I’m not political.

I don’t like discussing politics or religion as those kinds of discussions can start out being really interesting and enlightening, but all it takes is one poorly phrased or intoned word, and the whole discourse can spiral into ugly shouting and arguing. That’s one reason why you don’t see any political or religious topics on this ol’ blog, since I’m not interested in starting a flame war, and everyone is going to hold to their opinion no matter what your–or my–take may be.

This entry is not political either. But after watching the whole Katrina/New Orleans/FUBAR situation for the last couple of weeks, one historical/social observation keeps coming back to me again and again.

It is the word ROME.

As in specifically the decline and fall of.

As more news comes in of what America is like once the blanket–the thin 1% of superwealth that, like models or actresses in film and magazine, is what is portrayed as the dominant lifestyle–is ripped off and we see finally what lies under that blanket, I think to myself, “Damn, that didn’t last very long at all, did it?”

I mean, the Romans started up roughly in 650 BCE, and had a run that lasted till 476 AD. That’s an empire that lasted over 800 years before finally collapsing. America’s been around in the 18th century, and in just a little over 200 years it’s already showing the classic stages of full on decline? It’s like with each successive generation of technological evolution, the lifespan of empires gets shorter and shorter. Or at least, the expansionist hey-day portion of a nation when they stop being Imperial and start worrying about just surviving.

I don’t know how many Americans are actually aware of this, but in other countries around the world, there are quite a few people–and I mean intelligent, scholarly types, not just Joe Average bitching in the bar–who are already holding discussions about who’s next. As in, “Who is going to fill the chair it is obvious America is inevitably leaving? Will it be China? Will it be Japan? The EU?”

It makes for some incredibly interesting conversation. I never thought I would be born into a lifetime where I could actually see an empire of sorts begin it’s fall, but the more I see of what is happening in America, and the more you compare that with historical precedent, the more abundantly clear it becomes that we are seeing some fairly well documented shifts in the motion of history once again. This is nothing new. Humanity just acts like it is. Over and over again.

More Rewrites

Nothing real interesting going on today. Just going at that second draft of the non-fiction kiddy book and contemplating a few images that popped up over the weekend thanks to conversations with the Fiance. They are nice images, and I’d really like to stick them in a story somewhere, but I think it’ll be a loooong time before the appropriate story crops up, because right now it’s just a singular image and feeling, with no real connection to what has happened before, or what will crop up after. Assuming I don’t forget entirely, maybe the story will make itself known before 2010 rolls around.

I recently got around to finally picking up the latest trade paperback compilation of Brian Vaughan’s Y: The Last Man. If you ever needed definitive proof that comics are no longer about people in tights busting the hell out of each other, this, my friends, is it. The premise is that a “plague” of some kind simultaneously hits every area on the globe, killing any high order mammal with a “Y” chromosome. In other words, all the men in the world suddenly die at the same time. Except for a geeky escape artist named Yorick, and the monkey he was training. The rest of the story is about Yorick teaming up with some exceptional women to get down to the bottom of why he is the last surviving man on Earth, and it is one HELL of a story. Just the ideas Vaughan throws out and some of the speculation that goes into how the world would survive without men is incredibly unnerving. For example, the only nation with a standing army left is Israel, and that’s only because it was mandatory for the women to enter National Service there. All other nations are more or less completely without defenses. Not that they really need it, because with the death of the men, most of the motivation and drive to wage war sort of evaporates anyhow. Tori Amos sets up an artist’s colony in the UK. Models suddenly find themselves useless and scorned, totally adrift without power they once enjoyed.

Mindboggling stuff. If you ever get really bored and are looking for something with no tights in it, a lot of good characterization, some truly funny moments, and ideas that make you just stop and stare with your mouth open once you seriously consider them, then PICK THIS ONE UP. The series itself still continues as a monthly (Though Vaughan has promised that this one has a definite end) but there are five trade paperback compilations currently available.