New comedy television script: 'Aftermaths'
I've completed another
television comedy script. This one's about four male
teenagers who wake up in their school library to find
that something strange and terrible has happened,
leaving everyone else in the world either unconscious
or missing. Unlike more traditional disaster movies,
they're not thinking about how they can rebuild
society, help other survivors and find a cure for
what's happened. Their main questions are 'have any
attractive females survived?' and 'if they haven't
survived and have become un-dead instead, is it okay
to get off with one?'
Here's the script. I've sent a copy and an
episode synopsis to Dominic Lord at the JFL agency
who asked to read any new scripts I created. Last
year's script, 'just the two of us', hasn't yet
been commissioned but it's early days yet. I've
also added 'aftermaths' to my scripts page.
Simon's Cat
Hmm... I think I'm
definitely procrastinating here. Maybe I should go
and sit in the reference library? It's cold out
there. Don't want to move. Actually, I can't move
because this conservatory is about four degrees above
freezing. Fine motor control is one of the first
things that go as a person drifts into hypothermia.
Then they get sleepy.... zzzzz. Only joking! Anyway,
that wouldn't make any sense. Why would someone type
'zzzz' after they'd fallen asleep? Then
again, maybe that would be sleep-typing? Perhaps my
sleep typing would be better than my awake typing? Is
my conscious mind getting in the way of my creative
flow? Am I lying in bed at night, my thoughts in
dreamland while my body desperately searches for a
laptop to pen a brilliant opus? That's embarrassing;
as a writer, I'm better off unconscious.
This is definitely procrastinating. I did wean myself
off playing with my new iPhone, well, fairly new, it
was second hand but it's still got its internal
compass, accelerometer and pseudo-GPS. I wish I had
those things, well, I've got an accelerometer but I
don't have an internal compass. Birds do. They've
also got some kind of GPS and they can fly.
So, ranked in terms of ability, it's birds first,
followed by my iphone and then me last. Nuts.
I'm definitely writing a stream of consciousness blog
entry here, like Jack Kerouac but without the magical
atmosphere of late fifties jazz, bohemia, the wide
open plains, friendship, exploration, sadness,
disillusionment and, in the end, an early death. So
this blog entry hasn't got anything in common with
Kerouac's writing apart from its long, unwieldy
sentences and complete absence of a plot. Hmm... need
to work on that. Then again, this blog is probably a
healthier version of Kerouac. It's not as memorable
or inspiring but you'll live longer; sort of a
Beat-writer lite. Low fat Beat-writer. Family
filtered Beat writer. Tory party approved Beat
writer. This is making me nauseous.
What was the point of this blog entry? Oh yes,
Simon's cat; it's good. Time for an EMBED tag...