So this happened:
And then after my midterm, THIS HAPPENED:
Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk and Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro, for the ideas/themes, from Barnes & Noble. Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card for the story, from Barnes & Noble. All in the Timing by David Ives, for his masterful use of language, from Border's. Old School by Tobias Wolff, because I've been wanting to read it since senior year of high school, from Border's.
You guys, you guys, I am so excited that if I were a 20-year-old in a toddler's body instead of a toddler in a 20-year-old's body I would definitely have peed myself.
Also, I'm in the process of watching Terrence Malick's The Thin Red Line in, like, 20-minute installments, and judging by how The Thin Red Line is making me feel so far, I have the suspicion that The Tree of Life will also stir the same unfathomably huge emotions in me and be epic in the original sense of the word:
Suddenly overcome with so many feelings I did not know I could feel.
I don't know. I still have about an hour to go in The Thin Red Line, but it and even just the trailer for The Tree of Life make me feel the way I felt when I was six years old watching The Discovery Channel in utter awe, or the way I felt reading The Grapes of Wrath for the first time. Like witnessing something enormous and beyond the scope of my comprehension. Something not even dreamt of in my philosophy. It makes me feel so fragile and invincible, like I am crawling back into the womb, like everything is divine.
(I am not on drugs. Nor am I an English major. I just have a lot of feelings.)
Also I wore this on Chinese New Year's. The scarf tucked around my belt was obligatory for fulfilling my "something red(dish)" quota:
Ring: Rapunzelsgold on Etsy. Pants: possibly my uncle's. Scarf: The Met, full view here. Belt: brother's. Socks: gift. Boots: Steven by Steve Madden. Top: Old Navy, courtesy of M80.And since it's Saturday, time for another script.
I think I wrote this when I was 16. This was not performed, and for good reason. As you will see if you are unfortunate enough to click through the jump, this was my first attempt at non-comedic, non-absurdity. I have no idea what the characters' actual backstory is, and I don't know exactly how their alternate reality works. Anyway, the little thing they do with the radio shows up in one of my later plays. Which is to say I ripped off myself. I guess this has a little "Sure Thing" in there too. Sort of.
I always felt like this was supposed to be bigger, but it died after a few pages, and I let it.
Actually I'm 100% sure I never gave this to anyone to beta-read. Wow, this is going to be embarrassing. I give you full permission to judge me for how bad this is, but in my defense, I think I had to get something this crappy out of me before I could get along and write something I liked.
[EDIT: Wow, I just reread this, and it reads like a really valiant but failed amateur attempt at dramatic fanfiction. Wow, this is awful. /]
BLIND SPOT
(MOLLY warily approaches the car. Climbs in.)
DAD: Hey, kiddo!
MOLLY: Hi.
(MOLLY puts on her seatbelt. DAD starts the engine. They back out. Now they are cruising along.)
(Pause.)
DAD: So. (Pause.) How was school?
MOLLY: Okay.
DAD: (Pause.) Did you learn anything new today?
MOLLY: (Pause.) I'm a little old for that, don't you think?
DAD: (Pause.) Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right.
MOLLY: (Pause.) Why are you here?
DAD: I, ah, I guess I just thought I'd stop by. I was passing through.
MOLLY: Sure.
DAD: How's your mom?
MOLLY: Same as always?
DAD: That's... That's good to hear.
MOLLY: Yeah.
DAD: (Long pause.) So what have -
(As soon as the words leave his mouth, MOLLY turns on radio.)
DAD: - Nevermind.
MOLLY: What?
DAD: Nothing.
(Radio plays.)
DAD: You know, I really don't get popular music these days. (Pause.) I guess I should probably -
(MOLLY turns the radio up. Radio plays loudly for an awkwardly long conversational pause. DAD turns the radio off abruptly.)
DAD: Don't do that.
MOLLY: I'm not gonna listen to you.
DAD: You never listen to me anymore anyway.
MOLLY: Maybe because you're never around.
DAD: Well, I'm here now! What more do you want?
MOLLY: Oh, I don't know. A real father would be nice.
(Pause. DAD turns the radio back on at that really high volume.)
(Drive in the silence of a blaring radio.)
MOLLY: Where are you going? I thought you were taking me home.
DAD: (Parking) I've got to drop off some letters. You can just wait in the car. If you want.
(MOLLY leans back and crosses her arms. DAD glances over at her anxiously, then exits the car.)
(MOLLY sits while DAD walks offstage with some letters. MOLLY stares straight ahead. Checks her watch. DAD returns, enters car.)
(Short pause. Then, decisively, DAD turns off the radio.)
MOLLY: Can we go now?
DAD: No. We need to talk.
MOLLY: What's there to talk about? There's nothing to talk about.
DAD: Why aren't you happy to see me at all? I mean, you used to... you used to -
MOLLY: I'm supposed to be happy? About what? Your being here?
DAD: You have no idea how hard it was for me to -
MOLLY: Yeah, well you have no idea what it's like to be me.
DAD: I was a teenager too.
MOLLY: Woohoo.
DAD: Okay, then. What... is it like to be you?
MOLLY: Can we just go?
DAD: What's the rush?
MOLLY: Why are you treating this like some kind of game? This isn't a vacation! It's not like you don't know what's coming!
DAD: Can't you ever forget about that for once and be happy I'm here?
MOLLY: No! No! What the hell! What the hell is there to be happy about? You don't even know what -
DAD: - You should be glad I'm here.
MOLLY: You just don't get it, do you? To you, this is just another joyride. Well guess what. It might be easy for you, but it sure as hell isn't easy for me, so stop! You're being ridiculous! Stop living in the past!
DAD: I'm not living in the past, Molly. I'm living right now.
MOLLY: Oh really. Then I must have been misinformed. I was under the distinct impression that you were dead!
DAD: You know that's not what I meant.
MOLLY: Don't act like it's not true! In a couple minutes, you're gonna pull out, drive toward the intersection, and get decked by an oncoming car!
DAD: Molly!
MOLLY: And I'm going to live, and you're not!
DAD: Molly!
MOLLY: All I'm saying, Dad, is that maybe I don't want to get too attached, since, you know, you're going to die and all!
(Pause.)
DAD: Molly.
MOLLY: I mean it. I can’t do this. Again.
DAD: Molly, turn on the radio.
MOLLY: Don't you dare drive out there again.
DAD: (Backing out) Molly, you're going to be late for practice. We've got to hurry!
MOLLY: But I want to listen to the radio! Daddy, my shoe's untied!
DAD: I got that for you, kiddo. (Turns on radio.) (Approaches intersection, checking traffic both ways.)
MOLLY: My shoe, Daddy!
DAD: (Glances down at Molly's untied shoe.) (Absently) Hold on, Molly. (Turns to look left.) MOLLY!
(Blackout. Ambulance siren.)
(During the blackout, MOLLY exits the car.) (Lights up.) (MOLLY climbs into the car.)
DAD: Hey!
MOLLY: Hey.
(MOLLY puts on her seatbelt. DAD starts the engine. They back out. Now they are cruising along.)
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