Research

I've had several other things going on lately, so a lot of my writing has taken back burner. I have, however, been spending some time in Giddings, Tx, lately and taking advantage of faster internet capability to do more research for my proposed "Small Town Texas" mystery novel series. I'll reserve the name for now. I've been able to download pix of small-towns in the area, to add to my own collection.


I do have to admit that reading the "Sheriff Dan Rhodes" series of mystery novels by Bill Crider is also a huge inspiration. I really like his use of description in the novels to really put you in the scene, and having grown up in a similar setting, I can't help reading with a continual sense of "oh, wow, I remember that!" I hope I can come somewhere close to the same result with my own book(s). I have been working on just one novel about it, but in the process it has been interesting to build a fictional town and populate it with businesses and characters drawn from my own experiences in several locations in Texas. The area of my novels will be an amalgam of my own hometown mixed with many other towns around the state. I have developed such an extensive amount of detail for my "town" and countryside that it almost has to be utilized for more than one story. There are times that it is a pastime of its own to research it.


O well, it will pay off!

Writing Tools Revisited

In an earlier post I talked about various writing tools I find useful. I received a comment from a reader on one of his. Here is the comment, hope he doesn't mind me quoting.:


"I wanted to put in a pointer for some free software I found. It's called Celtx and was designed for the film industry, but has had a lot of adaptation to various other theatrical projects. It runs across platforms (Mac, Windows, Linux, etc.). You can find it at http://celtx.com/ "


I downloaded Celtx and I've been using it. The other tools I mentioned work fine for general writing tasks and writing novels, short stories, etc. All can be used for dramatic works, but they don't have specific formatting tools, etc. that accommodate script work.  There are several pricey packages out there that do good jobs with scripts. I have also seen a few templates for Word that approach the problem. The Celtx program does most of it for free. I went ahead and bought a Writers add-on for the program, it cost a whopping $9.95 and added a few nice bells and whistles to the basic program.


I like Celtx. It makes it very easy to format various types of scripts for production. For a fee, you can join their online "Studio", which adds the benefits of saving your scripts online with them, offers a base for collaboration, and other possibilities I didn't care to use. The only thing about the program that bothers me is that it is set up to automatically "ping" their site each time you use it. They say no information is transferred, other than just letting them know how many people are using the program. My problem is, I work offline a lot. I have dial-up, I'm not online always (no matter what my partner says!). It's a bit annoying to see the small window popping up that it is trying to make connection to add to their count and it tries repeatedly. Really a small gripe, considering the program is free, and it does a lot of things really well. It is certainly worth trying out if you do plays or screenplays. The program has a lot of utility for overall production, as well. Check it out at the link above!

Writing, writing and so on.

I am seriously considering forming a writing group for my area. Some time back I was one of the charter members of Austin Script Works, a very good, helpful group in Austin. I enjoyed my membership there, I feel it was a good model. It's still a great organization, I hear, but I am a bit too far away to attend regularly. I feel there are enough budding and experienced writers around the Elgin, McDade, Manor (Texas) area to get a more general group going here. I envision it to be a free form group considering all genre's of writing, offering support to each other constructively. We could have readings, discussions, swap resources, and maybe do workshops. I myself have a couple of novels in the works, several produced plays with more coming, and even a few poems. It would be great to meet monthly, or even every couple of weeks to swap ideas.

We had a small group going when I lived in Liberty Hill, but we had a bit of trouble keeping it going. It was great while it lasted. Shin Oak Ridge Writers, any of you still around?

Parting - One Act Play

PARTING

A Play in One Act

by William C. Seward

           

                                                                                                                                      April 15, 2010

Copyright   © 1999 by Bill Seward

P.O. Box 774

Liberty Hill, Tx 78642

(512)468-7835

Email billseward50@yahoo.com

Characters:

RAY – a man.

JEN – a woman

OLD JEFF – eccentric beach bum.

(SETTING: The beach, a seascape *backdrop. 1975. Sounds of gulls, waves, wind.)

            Scene 1

                        AT RISE:

(‘70’s radio music comes up with lights. Morning light. JEN  is lying on beach towel face down, sunning her back. She is wearing an appropriate swim suit for the young, attractive girl that she is. The music is coming from a small radio near her. Something light is finishing, maybe Barry Manilow. The next song is Elvis. JEFF enters in his shades, his towel is around his neck like Elvis’s scarf. JEFF wears the same Hawaiian shirt, cut-offs and sandals throughout. He is holding a short stick he uses like a microphone, mimes Elvis gestures, crouch. JEN is oblivious to him but abruptly turns the radio off mid song, stopping him mid-crouch. RAY enters, catches this scene. JEFF straightens, exits. RAY moves closer to JEN, a bit shyly. Ray wears swim trunks.)

                        JEN

            (not looking up)

You’re blocking my sun.

                        RAY

Oh, sorry.

            (starts to turn away, stops)

Don’t burn.

                        JEN

It’s still early. Who was that over there?

                        RAY

            (relieved to change the subject)

Old Jeff. He’s sort of a beach bum. He’s harmless. Walks around doing impressions.

                        JEN

Let’s see, judging by the song . . .

                        RAY

Elvis. In Vegas.

                        JEN

Of course. And you?

                        RAY

I don’t do Elvis.

                        JEN

Not even in the shower?

                        RAY

Well . . . sometimes.

                        JEN

            (Rolls over and looks at RAY for the first time)

You’re honest. Hi, I’m Jennifer.

                        RAY

            (quotes old commercial)

Raymond, “You can call me . .

                        RAY and JEN

            (together)

Ray!”

                        JEN

            (continues)

I hate that commercial. Good to meet you Ray.

                        RAY

Do your friends call you . . .

                        JEN

Anything but Jenny. My mom calls me Jennifer. . .  Jen?

                        RAY

Jen. Will you be around awhile?

                        JEN

Sure.

                        RAY

            (Awkwardly)

They show Elvis movies down the beach. “Clambake” is tonight, I think. Have you seen it?

                        JEN

I don’t think so.

                        RAY

Well . . . would you like to . . . you know . . . go with me? I mean . . . it’s okay if you don’t.

                        JEN

Sure.

                        RAY

Oh well, I understand. Maybe some other . . . . did you say yes?

                        JEN

Yes.

                        RAY

Really? You’ll go with me?

                        JEN

Who else? Elvis has left the building.

                        RAY

That’s great. Meet me here, about sundown?

                        JEN

Okay.

(she lies back down, RAY stands there a moment, awkwardly, JEFF enters again, arm outstretched, cap in hand, stiff vaudeville walk as Jimmy Durante. Walks across, then exits.)

                        JEN

            (Not looking up)

Who?

                        RAY

Jimmy Durante, I think . . . later.

                        JEN

Later.

            (lights fade to blackout.)

            Scene 2

(Time: 1975, six months later than Scene 1.

Setting: Same as Scene 1. Added party music, limbo? )

                        AT RISE:

(It is noon. RAY and JEN are sitting on blanket/towel with picnic basket. They are finishing glasses of champagne. Used picnic dishes are stacked nearby. Both are dressed like before, but with t-shirts or other cover-ups on. They are watching JEFF who has just found a coconut and is miming a bowler making a strike. JEFF exits.)

                        JEN

            (putting down glass and flopping back onto blanket.)

Oh, God!

                        RAY

How do you feel, Mrs. Allen?

                        JEN

Why don’t you feel me and see, Mr. Allen?

                        RAY

Don’t mind if I do.

(he grabs her and starts to tickle her. It escalates to both tickling each other, then evolves into a long kiss. JEN finally breaks it.)

                        JEN

I beg your pardon sir, do you often do this to women you meet on the beach?

                        RAY

Only the ones I marry.

                        JEN

Are all your weddings as nice as this one was?

                        RAY

Every single one!

(JEN tickles him again, then more kisses. They both break and lie back.)

                        RAY

Are you happy?

                        JEN

Oh yes! . . . I love you.

                        RAY

Me too!

                        JEN

You love you?

                        RAY

I love you too!

                        JEN

Oh! Are you happy?

                        RAY

Pretty happy.

                        JEN

Only pretty happy?

                        RAY

We could try for ecstatic.

                        JEN

And how do you plan to do that?

                        RAY

Well, . . . our dune is just over there.

                        JEN

How do you know it’s the same one?

                        RAY

See, it has the two . .

                        JEN

Ray!

                        RAY

It reminds me of you, you remind me of it. How could I forget? Remember how we christened it?

                        JEN

You’re impossible. It’s the middle of the day.

                        RAY

So?

                        JEN

So, didn’t your mother ever tell you to wait half an hour after eating?

                        RAY

            (a bit pouty)

That was for swimming and it was an hour.

                        JEN

So who wants to wait an hour?

(they kiss again, are quiet, lost in each other. JEFF crawls across the beach like a dying man in the desert. They ignore him. He sees a conch shell, examines it and replaces it, then exits, still crawling.)

                        RAY

(Lies back on the blanket.)

Why can’t we just stay here?

                        JEN

We still have another day.

                        RAY

It’s not enough.

                        JEN

We have jobs now.

                        RAY

At least you like yours.

                        JEN

You have a good job!

                        RAY

It’s not what I want to do.

                        JEN

It’s a good job. Uncle Ted says you’re doing great.

                        RAY

I wanted to be a writer.

                        JEN

There’s nothing wrong with selling insurance. It pays good!

                        RAY

I wrote good poetry in college!

                        JEN

You can still write.

                        RAY

It’s not the same.

                        JEN

You’ll write if you need to write.

            (she kisses him)

                        RAY

You think so?

                        JEN

            (snuggling closer)

Write me a poem . . . for our honeymoon.

                        RAY

I can’t just . . . write a poem . . . right now!

                        JEN

            (teasingly)

Why not? Don’t I inspire you?

                        RAY

Well, yes, but . . .

                        JEN

Remember the dunes?

                        RAY

Ah, the dunes.

                        JEN

Does that inspire you?

(JEFF re-enters with coconut, he’s added seaweed hair to it, and mimes much of the poem as RAY says it, treating the coconut as his lover. Neither of them notice him. He exits on the last line.)

                        RAY

Come my love and take my hand.

You’ll walk with me across the sand.

I’ll stroke your hair and kiss your lips.

I’ll mold you with my fingertips.

I’ll be the sun, you’ll be my moon.

I’ll be the sand, you’ll be my dune.

You are the music, I am your tune.

You are the lake, I am your loon.

                        JEN

            (after a beat)

My loon?

            (they kiss as lights fade to blackout)

            Scene 3

(Time: 1985, ten years later than Scene 1.

Place: On the beach, mid afternoon.

Setting: Same as Scene 1. Perhaps some pop music and sound of kids playing rises as JEFF finishes his bit.)

                        AT RISE:  

(JEFF finds an old umbrella and goes into a dance ala Gene Kelly “Singing in the Rain.” He is alone on stage. As he strolls off JEN comes on. She drops blanket and beach toys. She is dressed more conservatively now and has a covering with hat.)

                        JEN

            (calling, off)

Mark . . . Amy we’ll be over here. Ray, is this okay?

                        RAY

(enters. He still has his swimsuit but wears an open sport shirt on top. A cloth hat on his head, avoiding sunburn. He puts down his beach items.)

Sure. Looks like the usual spot.

            (he calls, off)

Watch your sister, Mark. Not too deep!

                        JEN

I’m glad Uncle Ted gave us this weekend for our anniversary.

                        RAY

I threatened to quit if he didn’t.

                        JEN

You did not!

                        RAY

Yes, I did.

                        JEN

He knows you wouldn’t.

                        RAY

Maybe, maybe not.

                        JEN

Well, that would be just about the stupidest thing you ever did.

                        RAY

Maybe.

                        JEN

Just stupid.

                        RAY

That’s me.

                        JEN

            (unpacking picnic basket, handing RAY plates and sandwiches)

Here, help me set out the food.

(JEFF enters with metal detector and earphones, crosses behind RAY. )

                        RAY

            (not looking behind him)

Is that Jeff?

                        JEN

Yes.

(without looking, RAY tosses a sandwich, in bag, over his shoulder, then glances back. JEFF hardly looks up or breaks stride, but catches the sandwich and continues off.)

                        RAY

He’s better than a seagull!

                        JEN

He’s just a bum, you shouldn’t feed him.

                        RAY

He’s part of the beach. Always has been. Remember?

                        JEN

Life goes on, he’s still here, just like always. He hasn’t changed. I think he’s still wearing the same clothes.

                        RAY

Some things shouldn’t change. I think he’s happy, anyway.

                        JEN

            (accusingly)

I think you envy him. You’d be just like him if you could.

                        RAY

In a way I do envy him. People should be happy.

                        JEN

Does that mean you’re not happy?

                        RAY

Not lately, no.

                        JEN

What does it take to make you happy? . . Is it me? . . . Are you tired of me?

                        RAY

I’m tired of me,  of the person I am now. I don’t like this person.

                        JEN

I don’t understand you. You have a family that loves you. You have a job that pays good money. You get up every morning at five to do your precious writing that nobody wants to . . .

                        RAY

I made a sale.

                        JEN

You made a sale?

                        RAY

“Landscape Magazine” bought three articles and a poem.

                        JEN

            (bitingly)

Well, that’s just great. When were you going to tell me?

                        RAY

Today, I thought we could celebrate.

                        JEN

Celebrate!

            (grudgingly)

Well, okay, I’m proud of you.

                        RAY

There’s more. They want to put me under contract. I’ll be on the staff.

                        JEN

You’re not considering it are you?

                        RAY

Yes, I am. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do.

                        JEN

What about us? Me and the kids?

                        RAY

I don’t understand, it’s a good job. The pay’s a little lower but . . .

                        JEN

You have a good job. The pay is great. You’re a good salesman. Uncle Ted says . . .

                        RAY

Uncle Ted’s a petty tyrant.

                        JEN

He’s my mother’s brother. He’s always been good to us.

            (she makes an effort to calm herself)

We’re not going to talk about this any more. I know you’ll do the right thing. You have responsibilities. You’re not the same footloose boy I met here. When you think it over . . .

                        RAY

I have thought it over.

                        JEN

            (continuing)

. . . when you think it over, you’ll see I’m right. Call the kids now.

                        RAY

Jen, I . . .

                        JEN

Call the kids. That’s enough for now.

            (RAY looks at her for a moment, then turns to call off)

                        RAY

Lunch time! Mark, where’s . . . okay. Come on and eat.

(as lights fade, JEFF steps into view at edge of scene. He and RAY look directly into each other’s eyes until blackout.)

            Scene 4

            (Time: Sometime between Scenes 3 and 5.

            Place: Same beach afternoon.

            Setting: Same as before. Only beach sounds.

           

                        AT RISE:

Beach is empty. JEFF enters doing Marcel Marceau, tug of war on both ends of long rope. ( In other words, he pulls one end of long rope onto stage, strains back and forth, then succeeds to pull offstage, re-enters on other end of rope, same pull back and forth.) As he is finally pulled off. Lights fade again.

            Scene 5

(Time: 1990, five years later than Scene 3.

Place: On the beach, near sundown.

Setting: Same as Scene 1. No music. Beach sounds.)

                        AT RISE:

(RAY is sitting on the beach, reading a magazine. JEFF walks aimlessly by muttering to himself; he pauses, sees RAY, shakes his head and walks off. RAY takes no notice, reads on, JEFF returns, stops, sees a conch shell, picks it up, and listens. Disappointed, he replaces it exactly where it was, then moves off again. JEN enters, carrying a beach bag and a book. She sees RAY, looks doubtfully around, makes a decision and sits as far as possible from him.)

                        RAY

            (without looking up, brusque.)

Well?

                        JEN

Well what?

                        RAY

What do you want?

                        JEN

A tan, a few shells, finish reading my book.

                        RAY

Why here?

                        JEN

I like it here. It’s my favorite beach.

                        RAY

I don’t remember you getting custody of it too.

                        JEN

It’s big, we can share it.

                        RAY

            (getting up to go.)

I think we’re through sharing things. I’ll leave.

                        JEN

Don’t be a jerk.

                        RAY

So now I’m a jerk. Was I always?

                        JEN

Hardly ever. Only now. Sit down.

                        RAY

We’re not married now, I can walk away.

                        JEN

It never stopped you before.

                        RAY

            (looks at her, makes a decision, sits again deliberately.)

So?

                        JEN

Tan . . . shells . . . all that.

            (long pause, both try to read.)

                        RAY

Why did you come here . . . now?

                        JEN

It’s a free country. I like it here.

                        RAY

But you had to pick now of all times.

                        JEN

I didn’t know, okay?  I didn’t know you were coming here for the honeymoon. It’s a big beach, we can share it.

(JEFF marches through with military posture, sunglasses, nods to them, inspects the beach.)

                        JEN

I see Old Jeff is still around. Who is he being now?

                        RAY

I think. . . MacArthur. Yes, definitely MacArthur.

            (JEFF salutes, exits)

                        JEN

See, it’s okay with him if I stay.

                        RAY

Old Jeff’s nuttier than a fruitcake. Not exactly Miss Manners.

                        JEN

He’s sweet.

                        RAY

Are you . . . with anyone?

                        JEN

No.

                        RAY

The kids?

                        JEN

My mom.

                        RAY

Oh.

                        JEN

            (sweetly)

Where’s Pam?

                        RAY

Back in the room. She was burning.

                        JEN

Good!

                        RAY

Good?

                        JEN

Well, good that she’s taking care. Can’t have her aging prematurely.

                        RAY

Meow!

                        JEN

Sorry.

            (Pause)

                        RAY

None of it was about her!

                        JEN

I know.

                        RAY

She didn’t break us up!

                        JEN

I know, I said I was sorry.

                        RAY

It doesn’t help, you know. The things you say.  The kids tell me.

                        JEN

Really? I am sorry, I didn’t know that.

                        RAY

Just because she’s younger.

                        JEN

A lot younger.

                        RAY

See there?

                        JEN

You do it to yourself, you know. You show up places with this sweet young thing. You know what people say.

                        RAY

Middle aged crazy, is that what you mean?

                        JEN

Well, yeah.

            (short pause)

Does she know about this place?

                        RAY

What?

                        JEN

That we met here?

                        RAY

No.

                        JEN

Got drunk . . . made love . . . got married . . . here?

                        RAY

No, no, no!

                        JEN

Interesting!

                        RAY

I’m going to go now.

(Starts to gather his things. JEFF enters, beach towel around his head Arabian style. He walks across, picks up same conch shell, listens, nods, replaces it. Wanders back off.)

                        JEN

Who?

                        RAY

Lawrence of Arabia, I think.

            (he pauses, looks after JEFF thoughtfully.)

                        JEN

Wasn’t it that dune just over there?

                        RAY

            (Looks, almost smiles)

I think . . . probably not. Dunes move you know. They’re never the same.

                        JEN

Looks the same. There’s that hollow to the side, and the two peaks beyond. Remember? You even compared them to . . .

                        RAY

            (Interrupting)

No, no. It’s different.

            (A bit sadly)

We’re different.

                        JEN

What happened?

                        RAY

You changed, I changed, the world changed, just like the dunes.

                        JEN

            (Looking down ruefully)

My sand sure shifted!

                        RAY

Mine too! 

                        JEN

I’m sorry I couldn’t stay young for you.

                        RAY

That never mattered to me. You’re still an attractive woman.

                        JEN

It wasn’t age, huh? Then . . . Pam?

                        RAY

I know how it looks, okay? We’ve been through all this, the tears, the talks, the counseling.

                        JEN

I know. I’ve just never understood. Help me understand. We were so good. You said it wasn’t my looks, I don’t think it was sex, was it?

                        RAY

No, that was fine.

                        JEN

It wasn’t another woman, it wasn’t my age . . .

                        RAY

Maybe it was my age.

                        JEN

What?

                        RAY

I hate the term “middle age crazy”. It’s too pat, and I don’t think it’s crazy, not really. It’s just that, you reach a point when you realize the person you married isn’t the one you live with now. Heck, the person she married isn’t around either. Neither of those kids exists anymore. Our personalities, our needs changed. It’s hard to explain.

                        JEN

Oh, I understand.

                        RAY

Really?

                        JEN

Sure.  Your needs changed, yours, not mine. I still needed you. God,  how I needed you!

                        RAY

You hear what you just said? “I”, that’s what I mean. It was both of us. We separated, while we were still together. We stopped thinking “what do you need” and started on “what do I need.” We stopped supporting each other and started cutting each other down. All of a sudden it was all wrong.

                        JEN

Wrong? All those years? How can they be wrong?

                        RAY

They weren’t wrong. We made two wonderful children, had great times. It wasn’t wrong . . . then.

                        JEN

Then what?

                        RAY

I don’t know for sure. It wasn’t any one thing I can think of.  I think it was a lot of things. Just finally it all went from “it’s wonderful in spite of . . .” to  “it’s all wrong because of . . .” Somewhere a dividing line was reached and nothing was ever the same, at least for me.

(JEFF leaps onto stage, poses, hands on hips, the super hero. Neither of them notice him, he leaps off again)

                        JEN

That’s crazy!

                        RAY

Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe some of us just have a time limit on our relationships. I don’t know. I just know none of it worked anymore. I had to get out.

                        JEN

And it’ll be different with Pam?

                        RAY

I don’t know. I hope so. Maybe the counseling helped, finally.

                        JEN

Too late for me.

                        RAY

Yeah.

                        JEN

Lucky for Pam.

                        RAY

Is that another . . .?

                        JEN

No, I  mean it, she’s a lucky girl. You really are a good man.

                        RAY

Thanks.

                        JEN

I’m glad our marriage wasn’t a mistake. I wish we could have saved it, for all of us.

(JEFF enters, towel held like a cape over his lower face. He sneaks furtively around, moves as if stalking JEN, is distracted by conch shell, picks it up, chuckles silently, replaces it, suddenly notices sun, cowers, runs off)

                        JEN

Dracula?

                        RAY

Or Bela Lugosi.

            (a long pause)

                        JEN

You really are a good writer, you know. The kids say you’re much happier, too. They’ve noticed. Maybe there’s something in what you said.

                        RAY

You think so?

                        JEN

It wasn’t all a mistake.

                        RAY

I never said that.

                       

            JEN

One thing we learned, got better at.

                        RAY

What?

                        JEN

Hurting each other.

                        RAY

            (a bit ruefully)

Yes.

                        JEN

Do you think we can stop? For the kids’ sake?

                        RAY

I think we have to, for our sake. Neither of us can move on until we do.

                        JEN

Truce?

                        RAY

Truce.

                        JEN

We really were friends once. . . before everything else, I mean.

                        RAY

Yes we were. I think I miss that more than anything.

                        JEN

Is it possible for us to be friends, . . . now? Buy me a drink?

                        RAY

What will people say? We’re divorced. I think there’s some law against friendship.

                        JEN

Would you autograph my book?

(RAY and JEN walk off, talking, JEFF walks on just in time to see them leave. He is striding with a long stick. Towel over his shoulder ala Moses. He looks after them, picks up the shell, listens, nods, puts it in his bag. He turns majestically toward the sea, raps his stick on the sand. The sea parts in the center, JEFF passes through and off. Ocean sounds rise, fade to black.)

           

            End of play

*A critical piece of scenery is a pair of overlapping flats with the waves painted on them, probably at center rear. These flats should be able to be rolled apart or separated enough for someone to pass, exposing ocean bed with water and sky visible beyond.