GBAtemp Writers' Guild

[chris888222]

Hm? Yea? Whatcha need? Sterling still MIA?

Waiting for sterling actually

No reply...

 

[Shinigami357]

He'll turn up, I'm sure. Must have taken a break or something... Don't worry too much about it.

 

[chris888222]

He'll turn up, I'm sure. Must have taken a break or something... Don't worry too much about it.

Haha okay.

Sorry but I'm just that impatient.

 

[astrangeone]

Tagline: We put our faith in words, we follow where they lead. We are the Writer's Guild.

Description: Me? I'm a queer chick. I don't look like it, although. I'm a brunette, with shoulder length hair, usually kept in a ponytail. My eyes are dark hazel, and I'm told I have thick, untamed eyebrows. I'm pale as Death itself, but I don't try to be. I have a bit of a chubby stomach, but my arms are very toned and muscular.

When I speak, I have a slight accent. In that, I tend to mispronounce "r"s. I also tend to not have an "inside voice", as I grew up in a clothing factory and I'm partly deaf in one ear. I'd been told that I have "no filter" - that is, whatever I'm thinking, it comes out of my mouth.

My goals include publishing a lesbian romance novel, finishing my university degree, selling my collection of previously loved stuff on ebay, and just trying to get away from my mother. I'm working towards all of these things now - my education is my ticket out of here.

 

[Shinigami357]

Still nothing from Sterling? Hmmm, should we report him missing?

Just kidding... He'll turn up.

Anyway, how to describe when someone is speaking. Might be helpful to anyone writing a story, but needs a little help when it comes to character conversations [like me].

 

[chris888222]

Yup still no news from Sterling...

I have done two more reviews. Need me to link them?

 

[ShinyJellicent12]

Where is Sterling? Seriously, it's been a while.
Maybe he's on vacation
EDIT: He was online at 11:39 AM today. It says in his profile

 

[shyam513]

Maybe he's on a break or something. Or he could be ill - like me - which is why I haven't posted for a bit. To make up for it, I'm giving a little more of my story here:

Spoiler

Her whisper of “Tomorrow” was cut off by the door closing, almost as if it were pronouncing sentence in a court. Tomorrow it was then.
Well, after a good night’s sleep, everything Leven had told me looked far brighter and reasonable, and I was in quite a cheerful mood that morning. I even went quite smoothly through the process of choosing a stallion to ride on, even though I was fully aware of the nuisance it was, considering I could run far faster than it could ride. However, I was willing to put up with this inconvenience in order to learn what exactly Kaelani had been doing during the time she was away. I do not know why, but I had a feeling it was extremely important to me, so as we rode off, I made sure to stick close to Kaelani, for I knew that sooner or later, she would tell me.
It turned out to be the former, for we had barely gone a few kilometres away from the city, when Leven decided to go ahead in order to scout the surrounding area for any threats that were present, leaving Kaelani and I alone. I looked expectantly at Kaelani, and she began without hesitation.
“I went to Mistral.”
“Excuse me? Mistral? But that..that’s…”
“Your home, I know. But I had to go and see for myself. You told me your father was dead, and I wanted to go see if you had been telling the truth. It is a part of who I am that I have to check the facts myself. Though I thought that you killing your father was bad enough, I would have hated you if I had learned that you were a liar as well.”
“Well, I suppose it is lucky that I chose not to lie. I would have thought that anyone else in my position would have lied.”
“I agree, and I would probably have been able to forgive you, despite what I just said, if I’d I had found out you were lying. But finding out you were telling the truth was something…amazing. It filled me with admiration for you, Névent. The fact that you told the truth in a situation where anyone else would have used a lie made me realised that you were someone extraordinary. Remember what I said earlier – That I had no friends? Well, it is my honour to tell you that is no longer true – I have finally found one.”
The declaration was so sudden, it took me aback. I quickly however, regained my composure, and smiled warmly at Kaelani.
“I am glad to hear that you count me as a friend, and hope that I always bear that title.”
Kaelani looked at me, and laughed in joy, with her joyful, birdlike laugh, so full of mirth that it started me laughing too – in fact, we were still laughing when Leven returned, and he looked at us as if we were insane. Hardly surprising, truth be told.

 

[ShinyJellicent12]

Challenge (The end is like 999, but NOT 999)
----
The midnight air of Haunt Woods was full of fear and dread. A lone wolf howled in the distance. Sylvester ambled through the dark forest, frantically swinging his head left and right to make sure there was no danger present. Sylvester had been searching for the fabled Crystal Chasms that lied deep in the terrifying Haunt Woods forest. People said that there was a harvest of jewels that called the cave their home. Such jewels that could suffice to pay for his poor family, with much extras. In the distance, Sylvester could make out a soft, blue light emanating in the distance. Joy washed away his fears, and he dashed toward the light. Or, atleast under the light. He retraced his steps back until the cause of the light was in front of him. A blue flower was present before him, pulsating light from its stigma. Sylvester reached out to touch it, and recieved a stinging reply. "Ouch!" he let out as he stepped back. As if a switch in the flower turned on, the light died down, and waves of cerulean light shot out from the flower. An azure ring encircled the ground around Sylvester, and suddenly, he went blank.
Consider this a privilege. You will be playing a game, called the Senary Game. You will risk your life in this game, and risk others'. I await you, at the Crystal Chasms.

 

[Sterling]

My apologies guys. My computer crapped out on me on the first. My parents only just now left their computer open for my use. So my abscence has not been by choice. Lemme get right on Chris's application.

@chris888222: Your reviews and first impressions are very insightful. They may not be the most professional with the emoticons, but you have untapped talent. Welcome to the Guild, where improvement and talent come in both hands.

 

[retKHAAAN]

No prob Sterling

Was getting kind of worried there... Welcome back!

 

[Sterling]

In my will, I want someone to let GBAtemp know if I die. If that happens, you can start to worry.

 

[Shinigami357]

Welcome back. We've been kind of shut down for these past two weeks or so.

 

[Raika]

A friend challenged me to write a children's story ("simple" words, vocabulary etc) within a word limit. I came up with an impromptu idea (with zero planning as usual) and it turned out like this:

Spoiler

There was a legend passed down by the elders in a village of hamsters located at the top of Breezy Hill. It was said that at the bottom of Breezy Hill, known as the Lair of Rats, was an extremely dangerous land that should never be ventured into. However, this was just made up to keep the hamsters from interacting with the rats, even though the two species used to live in harmony.
A young and arrogant hamster, Chippy, was curious, and pestered Granny Whiskers to tell him more.
“Granny, I want to hear more!”
Granny Whiskers, wanting to teach Chippy a lesson about humility, told him that deep in the Lair, there was a valuable treasure.
“I warn you, do not attempt to find the treasure, or you’ll get eaten by the rats!”
Chippy, being the arrogant hamster he is, resolved to obtain the treasure to prove that he was “the best”.
“Those silly rats are no match for me!”
Chippy didn’t have any friends because he was too proud, but he longed for some. He thought that if he became “the best”, other hamsters would become friends with him.
One afternoon, Chippy wandered into the Lair of Rats, but without any directions, he wandered aimlessly, heading deeper into the Lair. He eventually reaches a rat village, and gets spotted by the vicious rats.
“It’s those rats Granny talked about. I’ll teach them a lesson!”
Chippy marched into the village, and upon spotting him, the rats started growling at him.
“What are you doing here, hamster? This is rat territory, leave or else we’ll eat you!”
They bared their sharp teeth at Chippy. Since the rats were larger in both size and numbers, Chippy got frightened, and fled the village.
“Those rats are scary!”
Panting and out of breath, Chippy stopped running and looked around him. He was lost in an unfamiliar place. Night had fallen, and he didn’t know the way home. Tired and shivering, Chippy settled down the soft grass to rest his tired feet.
“Granny, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you! I don’t care about the treasure anymore. I don’t care about being the best. Please come save me!”
Suddenly, the grass behind Chippy rustled. Startled, Chippy turned around, and to his horror, he saw a rat!
“Please, I beg you, don’t eat me!”
The rat approached Chippy and smiled.
“My name’s Poppy. Don’t worry, I’m not like the others, I won’t eat you. Want to be friends?”
Breathing a sigh of relief, Chippy introduced himself, and explained his situation to his new friend. Poppy listened, and when Chippy finished, he smiled once more.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you back home! I’ve always wanted to leave this place, but the elders disallow it by passing down some silly legend. Follow me!”
Poppy set off under the moonlight, with Chippy close on his tail. They avoided other rats, sneaked past snakes and hid from the owls. They passed by the village of rats, but to their surprise, they saw an owl attacking it!
“Oh no, what should we do? My friends are all going to get eaten!”
Chippy looked at his friend, then he looked at the rats screaming and running in fear. Suddenly, he had an idea. Running to the center of the village, Chippy took in a deep breath, and shouted at the top of his voice.
“Everyone, calm down! I know of a place where you can be safe from the owl! Follow me!”
Heads turned, and one of the rats spoke out.
“Why should we trust you? You’re a hamster!”
Chippy was exasperated, and just when he was about to give up, Poppy came to his aid.
“Please, believe my friend! He means you all no harm, hurry or you’ll all be eaten!”
Trusting in Poppy, the rats reluctantly followed Chippy and ran to the top of Breezy Hill, home to the hamsters.
“What are you all doing here!?”
One of the hamster elders yelled at the rats; he was furious. He turned to Chippy.
“What have you done, you foolish hamster!?”
“Elder, this is no time to be arguing, there’s an owl-“
Just then, the owl landed in the middle of the village of hamsters. The hamsters and rats panicked, and scattered all over the place. Chippy had to figure out how to scare the owl away immediately.
“Everyone, gather around the middle of the village! We’ll scare the owl away with our numbers!”
All of the rodents obeyed without question, and formed a sea of white and gray in the middle of the village. They bared their sharp teeth, growled, and charged at the owl. The owl, realizing it was outnumbered, flew away in fear, leaving the hamsters and rats tired, but safe.
“Hooray for Chippy, the savior of our village!”
Everyone crowded around Chippy and pet him affectionately. Chippy blushed; the others had finally accepted him. From then on, the hamsters and rats lived in harmony at the top of Breezy Hill, and if you ever see a frightened owl flying from that direction, you can guess what happened!

Not really my style, but tell me what you think about it. >:

 

[retKHAAAN]

@ Raika

I like it. I think one small improvement might be to take the "However, this was just made up to keep the hamsters from interacting with the rats, even though the two species used to live in harmony." line out of the first paragraph. I think it may make more sense for the reader to not know that little bit of history.

 

[chris888222]

Haha, welcome back (and thanks) Sterling.

 

[shyam513]

Hey Sterling, Welcome back!. Sorry for being so inactive atm - I'm taking part in an event called camp Nanowrimo - you have to write 50000 words in a month - so it's taking a fair bit of my time. I might just post all 50k on here when I'm done ;P

 

[Edgedancer]

I have not been to active recently, much to my dismay. but here is an old essay that I wrote, entitled "There's writing and me." This will shed some light on myself, and also show you a bit more about myself and how I view writing and how my life has changed.

THERE'S WRITING AND ME

Spoiler

As I sit here in front of the computer screen, attempting to start my essay, I am drawing a blank. The lights are off and only the glow of computer screen and power lights of various other electrical in the room shed light upon me. As I attempt to write anything, I delete it almost instantly, only to undo and delete it again. I guess that my issue is that the concept of writing is so vast and I have never really thought about what the essence of writing is. There is also the notion that I am currently in a transition of who I am. I guess the best way to tackle this dilemma is to start right from the beginning.

When I say “the beginning”, I am talking way back to examining the foundations of my love of literacy. I cannot remember a time where I did not write or read. My earliest memory of reading was when I was handed the fateful books series that consumed my reading list up until 2004, when the final book was released. This series was called Deltora Quest by Emily Rodda. Just saying those words gives me a vivid image of the first novel in the series, “The Forests of Silence.” It was a small novel at only 120 pages but its cover was has stayed cemented in my mind. A knight clad in bronze armour, standing in the middle of a clearing, staring at the reader. And although this would usually entail a piercing glare, no eyes are to be seen, only the black void of his helmet. The novel has now been read countless times buts integrity has remains; no missing pages, no loss of sheen on the cover and the only signs of wear being the wrinkles on the spine. Since “The Forests of Silence” I have been drawn to the genre of fantasy. I have outgrown the franchise now though but I will never forget the series that launched me into reading.
My earliest recollections of writing comprise of me having sitting in my Year 5 class (age 10), finishing my work early and then being allowed to write stories. Unfortunately, I am unsure of where my writings have gone but I distinctly remember that they comprised of a compilations of every cartoon and TV show I loved at once rolled into a single package. Looking back, I can still remember some parts of the writings and the scenarios I created but I am sure that reading them again would only make me cringe . That is where I believe that my initial writing aspirations began as it was an area in which I really enjoyed.
It was not until I was in high school until I really appreciated my literary skills. I could comfortably write short stories for assessments and was immensely proud when I got top marks for creating a fictitious newspaper based upon “The Chocolate War.” These memories have bolstered my writing skills but I do not believe that anything made me more proud of my reading and writing abilities than the fact that no-one else seemed to appreciate their own skills. I knew that I was not dramatically more knowledgeable than most others but the fact that I would gladly read a book or simply write made me feel special and unique. It gave me a drive to develop these skills and want to make use of them, rather than take them for granted. I guess I initially took these skills for granted though, as I was unable to comprehend how much effort and time that my teachers, parents and I put into developing these skills. It was through the lack of motivation by me peers that made me acknowledge my habits. It reminds me of “To Kill a Mockingbird,” when Scout says, “Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing.” Although the context is dissimilar and it only references reading, it truly does explain how natural reading and writing have become to me and how it is second nature not to acknowledge skills you are naturally adept in.

My writing has always been a way to escape reality. My writings have always explored ides, situations and characters that are out of reach to me, and as such I can make a character that revels in violence, a fantasy forest that will never exist or looking at the darker side to the world that I see. This desire though, is not born from disinterest in world but a curiosity of exploring the depths of my own imagination and psyche. I find that my mind will consistently amaze me as my writing often reflects ideas that I do not actively think about. An example is a piece of writing I did last year where I talked about an alcohol that contemplates the idea of how alcohol has a hold over him. This is an extract from my writing “I will admit that I enjoyed alcohol. I loved the taste of it, coating my throat in pure euphoria and the warmth that it delivers to my core when I have a sip. Life was great, as long as I kept drinking in moderation.” I particularly liked this quote as I painted a vivid picture about how the protagonist “loved” alcohol but what really amazed me the most was that it was possible while I take a personal stance against drinking alcohol. I refuse to drink alcohol, and it was this mindset that made me attempt to write something that was outside of my comfort zone. I did not actively research this topic either. I simply based my descriptive language upon the various sources that I have seen and how they portray both the addiction to alcohol and the effects it can have on the people around you.
That was just one of the ideas that I have explored in my desire to find my writing voice. My favourite authors at the moment consist of Matthew Reilly, Brent Weeks, Garth Nix and Robert Ludlum and it is easily seen through my writing. My assessment showed traits of all of these authors as the story was continually moving forwards with the writing being intentionally ambiguous so that the reader feels like they are the protagonist.
“I dart around a corner and delve underneath a low awning, beckoning the shadows to hide me. I knew these streets well and knew that there was no hiding place from someone that is determined to find you. “
This was the opening paragraph for the assessment and it really set the scene and gave it more of a thriller feel in terms of the protagonist being thrown into the deep end straight away with no reasoning given.
That said however, I do depart from this style when the inspiration takes hold of me. I have not often ventured outside of the action/fantasy genre that dominates my reading list but I have dabbled with a sad story that talks about a young girl that has all that she loves taken away from her. This piece of writing really entertained me as I was writing as it was such a departure from my usual writings and I wanted to see how the story would unfold. I ended up spending a 3 hour block of time on it that seemed like only an hour at most, in which I wrote around 2500 words .

In examining the essence of writing, I still find it amazing that arbitrary symbols on a page can be the recordings of our entire histories. Denning (Reading to Write) made the point that the past he researches and writes about is “beyond experience and memory...beyond the radar of our various electronic recording systems” and “(the) past I visit is stilled onto paper, millions of pieces of paper. Written on paper. One-off pieces of paper, mostly without copy.” This quote really highlighted the fragility of writing from hundreds of years ago and allows the reader to observe the emotions and experiences that both the writer and his work have experienced. It proves that writing has remained as the primary form of communication and documentation for our civilisation.
The concept of writing has changed dramatically through the ages. The most elaborate and defining changes occurred in the field of documenting history as it has evolved. The history of history is a vast field but to put it in a nutshell; Herodotus started it, Thucydides refined it, Polybius gave it some social and political context and Gibbon presented the notion that remaining unbiased is impossible due to the history having no meaning until the historian gives it meaning . This demonstrates how dynamic writing is in only one field of use. If we think about writing and all of the ways can be used, and in turn revised and manipulated, I am able to be seen that evolution has occurred.
But how does this all tie back to writing and me. It ties back, in the sense that I gain a sense of my writing identity from looking at how writing has evolved as an art form. It is how I personally learn and it gives me a context to work with. I have a profound sense of respect for writing as a form of expression. By recognising how the development of writing goes back to before we can fathom, I feel like a disciple of an ancient art that has flourished in recent years.

I should also examine myself to see how I respond to what I read and write. Some basic facts are that I am currently an 18 year old male. I am quiet and studious but as I mentioned previously, I am in a transition. I hail from the north, in an area known as the Sutherland Shire, a region that is known to be exceptionally sheltered. I have moved to Canberra to study and now I live with my father. Due to this major change in my life, many aspects of my personality have changed as well. I now value my friends more. I took my friends for granted up in Sydney and by moving to an entirely new location, I have been forced to modify my personality. I will now jump at reasons to get out of the house and meet up with friends; while previously, I would stay home in front of the computer. I have become a more open and approachable individual and although I would have once resented changing my image for other people, I have found that I really like the change. I like what I have become but I now feel like I am straddling two worlds, with two different personas that I must adopt . I don’t want to become what I used to be back in Sydney but I generally turn back into that person when I return. I believe that once I manage to overcome this obstacle, I will be a stronger person.
I am again at the point where I believe that I have to tie this back to how this is relevant to my writing. Although I am unsure if this is applied to me numerous years ago, I now recognise that what I write about seems to be directly affected by happiness and how I am feeling at the moment. During the first couple of weeks, I was still a little apprehensive and nervous, and that was reflected in my writing that I mentioned before about the person that is being chased and needs to hide. Also, when I was feeling sad/worried about a friendship, I wrote a story about a young girl called Agatha who has her life stolen from her. Although I have yet to finish that particular work, I could tell from the first moment I started, that it was going to be a sad story that tugs at the emotional heart-strings .

My inspiration and motivation behind wanting to become a published author has multiple facets. On one hand, it is due to a sense of egotism that I only have in conjunction with writing. I want to see my name on a bookshelf and know that people are reading it. I want the name “James Hoy” to be known, but that said, I have no desire to become a writer with same level of fandom as “J.K.Rowling” or “Stephen King.” I have a passion for teaching and due to this; my teaching career will support my writing career, not the other way around. My motivation, in another sense is that books have had such a huge impact upon me in my life so far and I wish to try to pay back literature for what it has done for me. I read daily and if I am able to inspire even one person to do the same, I will be pleased with that. Another reason behind my desire to become a novelist is to excel in a particular field. I have grown up with a twin brother who seemed to surpass me in skill in just about anything we did. Soccer, squash, maths and even videogames. It would always frustrate me to no end that I always lost. I surpassed him in one area though, English; in particular reading and writing. He had no desire or motivation to hone his skills in this aspect of life which allowed me to bloom without a shadow hanging over me, and although it is a minor motivational aspect, it is still relevant . Finally, I just want to write a good book because the passion is there. I think that I have a story to tell and I could bring something of my own to the table. This is an opinion that is shared by most authors, like Brent Weeks (“I’ve known I wanted to be a novelist since I was thirteen”), Matthew Reilly (“My motivation at the time was to write a book that was all action – from start to finish – a book that thrust the reader back into his or her chair because of the sheer pace of the storytelling.”) or Stephen King (“...it’s about enriching the lives of those whole read your work, and enriching your own life, as well.”).

I am looking at my word document and it is now filled with words. Hundreds of words. Thousands of words. I went into this essay with the mindset that I would be unable to reflect upon myself as a writer but once I started at the beginning, it simply flowed out. It was a natural progression from one area to the next; and by having it very natural, I have actually drawn conclusions about myself that were not apparent before, such as how much my emotions play upon my writing style. I am still developing my writing style and voice but this assignment has been an eye-opener to truths about myself I didn’t know before.

And also, here is a script that I had to write for my screenwriting class. It got me a distinction, and I will be interested to see if you guys agree.

STAINS

Spoiler

EXT. SAM’S HOUSE MORNING 1
High shot looking down on a small, single story house. The house has a feeling of neglect, with the curtains drawn and the garden in need of tending. There is a single car outside a double garage, with the doors wide open and no second car to be found. There is a large backyard with side access through a gate. You see play equipment and toys in neighbouring backyards. The scene remains still in the shot for a while. A child rides past on the bike and throws a newspaper in the front lawn. The date of the newspaper is 15th January, 2011

INT. SAM’S BEDROOM MORNING 2
An alarm goes off. SAM is sprawled over a double bed. The alarm keeps going. Still face down in the pillow. SAM is aggravated by the alarm.

<div align='center'>SAM
Grr...</div>

SAM fumbles blindly for the alarm and knocks it off the bedside table. It bounces on the floor, turning off with the impact and you get a look at under the bed. A pair of female slippers lies underneath, discarded and forgotten. SAM rolls over and lies face up. We see him as a middle-age man. He has a tall, athletic body with dark hair and navy blue eyes. He would be considered very handsome usually but you can see that his face is pale, verging on grey, and his facial hair is messy. SAM puts his hand underneath the pillow and he has a surprised look on his face as he finds something underneath. He pulls it out and holds it in front of his face. Its a pink nightgown. Sam stares at it ...

<div align='center'>SAM
(under breath)
Damn you...</div>

... and throws it away angrily into a corner and lies there in a pink heap. He pulls a pillow over his face. He screams into it. The tendons on his arms tense showing anger and
anguish. After several seconds, the pillow follows the nightgown and he gets out of bed. SAM’s shoulders are slumped and there is no energy in his body, though his fists
remained resolutely closed, betraying his hidden anger. He moves towards the bathroom and slams the door closed. The shot pulls out as the door closes and we see a jacket covering a frame on the wall. The impact of the slam dislodges the jacket from one corner and it falls, revealing SAM’s smiling face and the hand of a woman with a ring on her wedding finger. The noise of running water punctuates the silence.

INT SAM’S BATHROOM MORNING 3
SAM raises his face to look in the mirror. Water is dripping off his face. His eyes are haunted with rings underneath them. His face is pretty much expressionless and sighs as he enters the shower. It cuts to a shot of Sam standing in a shower and his shoulders are slumped as if he just doesn’t care. the water is just flowing over him.

INT. SAM’S BEDROOM MORNING 4
SAM returns from the bathroom and we see a towel wrapped around him. His body language is still depressed he slumps to the wardrobe and dressed in shabby, dark clothing.

EXT. SAM’S BACKYARD MORNING 5
SAM goes out of the backyard and sits down on a chair. There is a second chair but it has dust from lack of use. He just slumps and stares out into the backyard, with the focus appearing on the rose bushes that is overgrown and unkempt. There is a low angle shot that frames the roses in the foreground and it looks up at Sam.

EXT. SAM’S BACKYARD AFTERNOON 6
A door closes quietly in the background and you hear footsteps. A man walks into the scene and leans against the railing, facing Sam. It is his best mate WALTER. The two have known each other for ages and looks the opposite of Sam at the moment, clean, groomed and has a positive outlook of life.

<div align='center'>WALTER
(Very hesitant)
Look mate, you’ve gotta see her.
It’s obvious you still have
feelings for her, no matter how
much you try to hide it.</div>

WALTER swings his arms around and looks at the house, slowly pacing, a way of releasing his tension.

<div align='center'>WALTER
Do you think this is how someone is
meant to live? Its going to be
hard, not one is saying it wont,
but its not going to get better if
you sit around and dwell on it
twenty-four-seven.</div>

WALTER sits down next to SAM after he said this and runs his hands through his hair. He takes a few deep breaths, bracing himself for what he is going to say next.

<div align='center'>WALTER
I came over to give you something
today. I... I wish I could have
given it to you earlier but I
promised... (he pauses over the
final word, as if uncertain as
whether to use it), I promised
Sophie.</div>

With the mention of the name SOPHIE, SAM jerks in his chair a little and blinks. For the first time SAM actually notices Walter and looks intently at him, his eyes betraying the desire to well up with tears.

<div align='center'>SAM
(hushed voice)
Yes...
WALTER
You know that Jess and Sophie were
best friends since school years...</div>

SAM dumbly nods and a wry smile appears on his face, despite the situation.

<div align='center'>WALTER
... and Sophie left her a note to
pass onto you in the event that you
were having trouble moving on. She
said wait 2 months at least but she
hoped the letter would never be
needed.</div>

WALTER pull’s a sealed envelope out of his pocket and it instantly seizes SAM’S attention. His hand reaches out tentatively and, shaking, he takes it and stares at it.

<div align='center'>WALTER
Me and Jess haven’t read the
letter, but we have a good idea of
whatss written in it. I imagine you
would like to be left alone now.</div>

WALTER slaps SAM affectionately on the shoulder, knocking Sam out his trance.

<div align='center'>WALTER
(in a joking manner to try and
lighten the situation)
And without any further a due, I
will make my exit.</div>

A sad smile appears on SAM’s face and he extends his hand to shake. But he realises his hand is still grasping the note so he puts it in his pocket. He extends it again.

<div align='center'>SAM
Thanks mate. You coming here means
a lot to me.</div>

WALTER accepts his hand and shakes.

<div align='center'>WALTER
(with genuine happiness in his
voice)
Any time mate. Any time.</div>

WALTER walks down into the garden and makes to leave through the side house access but he stops and turns around, facing Sam, who is still sitting in his chair.

<div align='center'>WALTER
(with a smile on his face, but
in a bit of a serious tone)
You should really take care of the
roses. i know someone that would
not approve.

SAM
Noted. See ya later.

WALTER
See ya.</div>

SAM just stares at the roses again, lost inside his mind again and WALTER sighs softly and walks through the garden by the side of the house. The gate makes a soft click as it swings back into place .

INT. SAM’S BEDROOM AFTERNOON/EVENING 7
SAM has re-entered the house. It looks much the same but the sun leaves long shadows, revealing the passing of time. As he moves around the house, he turns lights on and when he comes to the bedroom, he notices the large photo frame with his face exposed and hand of a female. SAM pulls the rest of the jacket off the frame and stares at the women, SOPHIE. You see his face go blank and he starts to take some deep breaths. His eyes fixed, his hand scrambles for his pocket to get the note out. He holds it
shakingly in front of him. You see the word "Samuel" handwritten on the front and his finger slowly traces over it. After a short amount of time, his hand drops abruptly and he walks out of the room with purpose.

INT SAM’S KITCHEN EVENING 8
SAM is riffling though the draws of the kitchen bench looking for something. He pulls out a small knife and touches the tip of it, feeling for sharpness.

<div align='center'>SAM
Yes... this will do fine...</div>

He sits himself at a bench and places the knife and letter in front of him. He takes a deep breath...

<div align='center'>SAM
I guess there is no time like the
present</div>

He picks the knife up and slashes the side of the envelope, and pulls the letter that SOPHIE left him out. Hands trembling, he opens the letter and starts reading.

<div align='center'>SOPHIE
(as a voice over)
Sam... I am so sorry. I know that
what I am about to do is going to
hurt you and for that, I can’t
apologise enough. For what its
worth, your the one I never thought
I would hurt. I feel trapped and
only one thing is going to make me
feel better. Please, shed your
fears and try to find love again.
Love, Sophie</div>

SAM just stares at the letter and you see his water drops fall onto the paper. His body shakes and tears cascade but he makes no noise. He does nothing to try and wipe them up but places the letter down and pulls the ring off his finger. He rolls it around his fingers and the tears start to stop falling. He curls his hand into a fist, with the ring in the centre and picks up the knife. He walks out of the scene in a hurry and you hear a door slam behind him.

EXT CEMETERY MORNING 9
There is a solitary man standing in front of a new headstone, in a heavy jacket and hat. The clothes are ironed and neat and he is holding a bouquet of roses in his arms. He pulls his hat off, revealing the face of SAM. Though he is sad, you can also notice that he is neatly groomed. He places the flowers at the foot of the grave and we see a close-up of the headstone. It says SOPHIE Wyatt, July 14th, 1966 - November 15th, 2011.

<div align='center'>SAM
I am sorry I haven’t visited yet. I
just... (deep breath) I just cant
believe that you would leave me
like this.</div>

Anger starts to enter SAM’s voice and we see him pacing
around in front of the tombstone.

<div align='center'>SAM
Did I not dedicate my life to you?
Did I make your life so unbearable
that you couldn’t go on living
anymore?! How could you be so
selfish. I... I... I cant express
what you have done to me in words.
I loved you! I LOVED YOU! And this
is how you repay me...</div>

SAM runs his hands through his hair and calms himself down a little and returns to standing stationary in front of the tombstone.

<div align='center'>SAM
I am not sure when I will return
Sophie. Part of me still loves you,
but I also hate that you killed the
person I thought I knew. So for
now, its goodbye.</div>

SAM kneels down in front of the grave and pulls the ring out of his pocket. He traces his index finger once around it and digs a small hole in the soft ground and buries it. He
stands erect and starts walking off. SAM, raises a single hand as if to wave goodbye to SOPHIE, but he never once looks back.

PS. Please forgive any formatting errors with my script. The format of the script writing software isnt exactly the easiest to use and display on these forums.

 

[shyam513]

@Edgedancer - Nice script! I can see why it got you a distinction. The stage directions are very clear, and leave very little to chance, sot the scene will look exactly the way you imagine it. The speech is very clear and direct, which will keep the audience engaged well imo, unlike some plays where the waffling tends to bore people. I think you've got an excellent talent for scriptwriting. One improvement I might suggest though, is to have more than just one on one dialougue - a monologue to the audience from Sam may be interesting.

Unrelated side note - the date is my birthday xD

 

[astrangeone]

Welcome back! I haven't been writing lately - just been busy with fixing my cosplay stuff. (Ness, for your information.)

I'd probably end up posting some new content soon.