Kevin

Another 10-Minute Play – MAID OF HONOUR

As I’ve been so busy with life these past few days, I thought I would share one of my Trafalgar24 plays as a blog post. There’s already one of my 10-minute Trafalgar plays on this blog somewhere. You can search THE SPEECH to find it. This one, MAID OF HONOUR, is from Trafalgar24 2010. If you are unfamiliar with this event–playwrights get locked into Trafalgar Castle in Whitby, Ontario overnight. They each write a play and then leave the castle when the sun comes up. At that time, actors and directors enter the castle and rehearse all the plays for 8 hours. That evening, there is a gala event where approximately 300 audience members move throughout the castle seeing the plays performed in various rooms. It’s a phenomenal event. I’ve participating in the 2009, 2010 & 2011 Trafalgar24s. If you get a chance to attend, don’t miss out!

Here’s the play I wrote for 2010. I was given the Piano Room in which to write my play. I had to use only the props found in that room and I had to set the play in that room. (Somewhere on this blog are pictures of that room, in a previous Trafalgar24 post…but I’m not sure where it is right now. I’m on my way out the door to enjoy an evening of Italian food, family and friends! ETA: found it! Trafalgar pictures ) I hope you enjoy MAID OF HONOUR…

(as usual, if someone stumbles upon this post while googling 10 minute plays, etc, and wishes to use this play…please feel free to do so. ALL that I ask is that you email me for permission so that I know it is being performed.)

TITLE: MAID OF HONOUR

GENRE: COMEDY

SYNOPSIS: Can a bride’s rocky relationship with her Maid of Honour survive a last-minute confession that she’s in love with the groom?

CHARACTERS:

MELANIE : Overly dramatic and self-centred.

PENELOPE: The Bride to be. Down to earth. The victim.

DESCRIPTION: On the night before Penelope’s wedding, her Maid of Honour makes a confession. Is Melanie’s secret severe enough to finally break up these struggling BFFs? Or will Penelope find it in her heart to forgive her egotistical, self-centred Maid of Honour one final time in order to save her day?

SETTING

MELANIE’S house.

MELANIE [Sitting at the piano with the swivel chair]: It’s hopeless! [Hits a low key on the piano.] It’s tragic. [Hits the same low key again.] It’s irrevocably ruined. [Hits the key one last time.]

PENELOPE [Sitting at the opposite piano, facing MELANIE’S back.] [annoyed]: What is? What’s hopeless, Mel? Tell me. How bad could it be?

MELANIE [Sighs. Swivels in her chair to face Penelope]: Remember that time your hair caught fire in the back of that limo? How mad you were? How you blamed me for ruining your prom?

PENELOPE: Nothing is that bad, Mel. Nothing could even come close to that disastrous moment—

MELANIE: I’m in love with Brad.

PENELOPE [Stands. Pats her hair, as though putting out flames]: What!

MELANIE: It’s true. I can’t pretend any long—

PENELOPE: What!

MELANIE [Stands]: We already covered that, sweetie. I’m opening up here. Please pay attention.

PENELOPE: I’m marrying Brad tomorrow.

MELANIE: Which is another reason you should hush and let me speak.

PENELOPE [Rushes Melanie]: What do you mean? Him too. You’re stealing him too.

MELANIE [Backs up.]: I believe the proper nomenclature is ‘also’. Let’s not jump to conclusions.

PENELOPE: You’re my Maid of Honour. My best friend.

MELANIE: But if you keep things in perspective, I’m also the one who torched your hair. I’m the reason you spent prom in the E.R.

PENELOPE: Not related. Does Brad know how you feel?

MELANIE: They are related, sweetie. You should pay closer attention to the woman who lit your head on fire. I’m flawed, Pen. Deeply flawed.

PENELOPE: I know, Mel, but back up. What’s going on? I’m supposed to be getting married tomorrow.

MELANIE: Pay attention. I’m trying to tell you. Hopeless. Tragic. Ruined. Remember?

PENELOPE: What?

MELANIE: Don’t go down that road again, Pen. You go down the ‘what’ road far too often. It’s a sign you don’t really pay attention when people speak. [Sits and swivels to face the keys.]

PENELOPE: Don’t turn your back on me. We have to discuss this. What about Brad?

MELANIE [Hits a low key]: Hopeless.

PENELOPE [Swings Melanie around to face her]: Enough with the theatrics. What’s going on? Have you stolen another fiancé from me?

MELANIE [With tragic look on her face]: I try to be a good friend, Pen. I really do. [Gets up and walks over to mirror. Casually studies herself] Do my eyebrows look even to you? [Turns to face PENELOPE, with back to mantel.]

PENELOPE: This is my life you’re playing with! I don’t care about your—

MELANIE: You don’t have to get so sensitive.

PENELOPE: Brad.

MELANIE: Yes, yes. The man you’re going to marry.

PENELOPE: Have the two of you been conspiring behind my back? Did you call me here to ruin my life again?

MELANIE [Walks away from mantel, towards PENELOPE.]: Honestly. You think so little of me.

PENELOPE: History has a way of dictating these things.

MELANIE: I said it was tragic, didn’t I? Would I think it tragic if Brad left you to run off with me? Give your head a shake. Why, I’d be elated. [Continues to piano and hits a low key.] I certainly wouldn’t be hitting the doom and gloom keys.

PENELOPE: Shirley. Gwynn. Or maybe Gloria. Oh, I know! Susan! It’ll be Susan.

MELANIE: I’m opening my spleen here. Why do you insist on rhyming off the guest list?

PENELOPE: Like hell I am! I’m trying to come up with a replacement.

MELANIE: Replacement? Replacement for what?

PENELOPE: You don’t honestly think I’d allow you to be my Maid of Honour now! Honestly, sometimes I think you’re so far up your own—

MELANIE: Words. Careful. No need to get nasty and trashy.

PENELOPE: It’s true. It must be awfully dark up there in the underbelly of Mel’s Great Universe. Why do I allow you to constantly wreak havoc with my life?

MELANIE: I’m good for you.

PENELOPE: If you mean like in the same way amoebic dysentery is good for a diet, well, yes. I’ll agree.

MELANIE: Oh, sweetie. Must you? Could we please be more civil?

PENELOPE: You were actually the twelfth person on my list the night I chose my Maid of Honour. Twelfth choice, Mel! And yet. Here we are.

MELANIE: Number one with a bullet!

PENELOPE: Oh, for a bullet. My kingdom for a bullet.

MELANIE: Listen. I only wanted you to know. Big deal. It’s my tragedy. Not yours. Surely you could overlook this tiny detail.

PENELOPE: Tiny detail? Tiny detail! You’re in love with the man I’m going to marry. That’s not a tiny detail.

MELANIE: In the grand scheme of things [Hits another low key.] it is a small thing. You’ll still marry him. I’ll want to slit my wrists when the vows are being spoken, but…but only on the inside, sweetie. I’ll be a champ on the outside.

PENELOPE: I can NOT have you standing with me on my wedding day. Being in love with the groom is the deal breaker, Mel. I just can’t.

MELANIE: But I love him. I need to be there. You can’t keep me away. I want to be—

PENELOPE: Why weren’t the skin graphs enough for me? What is it going to take to finally wash you out of my life?

MELANIE: Don’t dramatize. It was a perfectly respectable accident. I’m not the first one to light candles in a limo. It was Mark’s birthday. The prom was overshadowing his big day.

PENELOPE: Don’t bring him up. Please, God…let’s leave that one buried. I’m feeling stupid enough as it is. I’m always forgiving you.

MELANIE: Mark was a yit. You were better off without him. Good riddance to good trash.

PENELOPE: Bad rubbish.

MELANIE [Returns to mirror and begins preening.]: What now? What’s that about rubbish?

PENELOPE [Sighs.]: Bad rubbish. It’s bad rubbish. It’s good riddance to bad rubbish?

MELANIE: Like I said. At least we can agree on that. In Mark’s case, I was doing you a favour.

PENELOPE: You put me in the E.R. to make your move on him. That does not a favour make!

MELANIE[Leaves mirror and returns to PENELOPE.]: That’s not true. We were together long before the flaming hair incident, and you know it.

PENELOPE: It’s over, Mel. I’m glad you called me here tonight. I’ve finally come to my senses.

MELANIE: Please. Penelope. Don’t be rash. I already said this was tragic…don’t make it unbearable too.

PENELOPE: Does Brad know about this?

MELANIE: I love him, sweetie, but he’s as useless as bark on a donkey. Seriously, he wouldn’t know it if I wrote it on his face and pointed him at a mirror.

PENELOPE: Oh yes. That sounds like love.

MELANIE: Love is knowing the flaws and limitations of those on which you shower it.

PENELOPE [Sighs, defeated]: Love is a battlefield. I’m going to have to let you go.

MELANIE: It’s too late to fill my shoes. I just wanted to share my feelings. You can understand that, can’t you? He’s just so dreamy…for an intellectual stump.

PENELOPE: You told me. Now I’m telling you. You’re out. Susan’s in.

MELANIE: Susan? Ha. What time is the wedding? One-thirty? You’ll be lucky if Susan can walk a straight line by then. Do you really want her attempting the aisle in front of all those guests?

PENELOPE: Why are you torturing me? Couldn’t you keep this to yourself until after the wedding?

MELANIE [Moves to the mantel, fondles the lovers sculpture. Sighs.]: Brad. Oh, Brad. This could be us!

PENELOPE: Stop it. Stop it! I asked you a question.

MELANIE [Continues to fondle sculpture.][Distracted.]: Brad, Brad, Brad. [Irritated] What question?

PENELOPE: I asked why you insist on destroying me.

MELANIE [Turns away from the sculpture]: You! What about me? You’re marrying the man I love.

PENELOPE: You’re so infuriating.

MELANIE: Look. I just wanted to let you know how hard this is going to be for me. But I’ll do it. And I’ll do the best damn job ever. I’ll Maid of Honour like nobody’s business. I just needed to tell you it’s gonna break my heart, is all.

PENELOPE: You can’t tell me something like this and expect me not to react. You just can’t.

MELANIE: Understand where I’m coming from, Pen.

PENELOPE: Where’s that? The third circle of hell?

MELANIE: Clever. No, Hon. I’m here for you. I’ll hide the pain. I just needed you to be aware it was there. That’s all. [Smiles.]

PENELOPE [Shows signs of giving in, wavering.]: Argh. Can I trust you not to ruin everything? How do I know you won’t—

MELANIE [Brightens.]: I’ll be a bastion of maidenly honour. As God is my wit—

PENELOPE: Don’t do that! I’ve seen people struck down for less. Don’t make any promises you can’t keep.

MELANIE: Please, honey. Let me come. I won’t even look at Brad.

PENELOPE: I love him. Got it? Nothing can ruin our day. I can hardly look at you.

MELANIE: I don’t believe you. I’m irresistible! [Holds arms out in a Ta-da! gesture.] You’re crazy about me, Pen. We’ll pretend I’m not madly in love with him, shall we? I’ve been doing it this long…you can do it for one measly day.

PENELOPE: One day. That’s it. And only because Susan can’t hold her liquor. After your Oscar worthy performance, we’re splitzville. Understand?

MELANIE: Absolutely.

PENELOPE: You really leave me no alternative. But it’ll be duh-duh duh-duh-duh-duh-duh (<<Hums wedding march), then bye-bye, Mel.

MELANIE: You got it. I won’t even bleed. All the wrist slashing will happen up here [Taps temple and smiles.].

PENELOPE: I hate myself for allowing this charade.

MELANIE: You find me irresistible. That’s why we’ve lasted so long.

PENELOPE: I think it has more to do with self-loathing. What time is it? I have to go. Tomorrow’s a big day.

MELANIE: The day my love gets married. [Sighs. Hits a low key.] Tragic.

PENELOPE: I’m going to ignore that little dig. Get to sleep. I’m trusting you to do this one last thing for me, before we part ways. Be well rested.

MELANIE: I’ll be flawless. [Gets up and opens door.] You won’t even know I’m dying on the inside.

PENELOPE [Crosses to door.]: Goodnight, Satan.

MELANIE: Until tomorrow.

PENELOPE[Turns back to face MELANIE.]: Please don’t let me down.

[PENELOPE leaves.]

MELANIE [Closes door, sits down at the piano and strikes a long low note.]: Tragic. [Puts head down—in hands.]

END PLAY

Writing Really Good Dialogue

(When I was first asked to write an article on this topic, I was blown away. This meant that somebody out there in the world must think that I write good dialogue. Somebody is asking me for advice on writing ‘really good dialogue’. I was over the moon. Then, as I began to analyze my methods, I realized I didn’t have any methods. I came to the conclusion while writing the article below that I may just be a savant. But, then, I feel that may be giving myself too much credit. Maybe I just get lucky? Maybe it was an accident that I ever wrote good dialogue? Maybe, they just wanted me to feel good? Maybe the author they originally had booked to write the article was crushed in an ugly double-decker bus accident? Maybe…

Writing Really Good Dialogue

(This article originally appeared in the Sept/Oct issue of the WCDR Word Weaver. Past issues can be found here. Most recent issues are available to WCDR members only.)

I was flattered to be asked to address the topic of writing great dialogue. Then I tried to tackle it. How does one write dialogue? It’s the one aspect of writing I feel I’m good at. My confidence level as a writer is low, but I feel confident with the dialogue I create. But to explain how to write great dialogue seemed way too daunting a task!

So I Googled it. None of the online articles had anything to do with my approach. They said, writing good dialogue is hard work; a great read is a hard write; it’s incredibly difficult to write good dialogue; you must know your characters before you can create great dialogue.

Bullsh*t, I say. For me, I must stop thinking before I can write great dialogue. Just write. Thinking gets in the way of dialogue. After I read a few articles and realized I couldn’t relate, I almost gave up. I don’t know my characters. Sometimes I can’t even remember their names after writing an entire novel with them. But I do know this: what I know about my characters I did not find out before I wrote their dialogue. To me, that notion is just ludicrous. I discover my characters as the dialogue comes out of them. The dialogue forms the character, not the other way around. Their words give me a true picture of who they are.

To write great dialogue, you can’t write what you hear on the street. People are staccato in conversation. They prattle on and change topics and say so much that does not pertain to the task at hand. In fiction you can’t do this. Every word must count. Dialogue has to be written MUCH better than real life conversation. It has to focus on the story and stay within its parameters. Great dialogue would probably NOT happen in real life, but done right and the reader will swear it sounds like real-life conversation. Like the rest of the fictional landscape, dialogue has to be larger than life. It’s a conundrum, really. Write dialogue too authentic and you’ve blown it, write it too stilted and unauthentic and you’ve blown it.

A writer needs to create individual personalities through dialogue and keep their characters on task while doing so. Characters will shape themselves and the story through their words. But knowing what they need to say to keep the story moving is only half the work. How they say things is important to the reader’s ear. This is why I read all my dialogue out loud by itself. I remove tags and the surrounding prose and then I have a conversation with myself to listen to HOW my characters are saying what they’re saying. And I speak the dialogue fast, so I can see where contractions would come into it in real life conversation. We’re a lazy bunch, us talkers. The use of contractions alone will go a long way in making your dialogue appear authentic.

As I sat down to write this, I discovered I might be a bit of an automaton when it comes to writing dialogue. Then I realized you NEED to be an automaton, to just write dialogue without thinking about it. Most people these days just open their mouths and speak. I’m not saying this is right, but it is the way it’s done. So when you’re in the grip of story, become your characters. Get inside their heads and spit out the first words that come into their mouths. That’s probably what they would say, and that’s also what would make them each unique. Stop thinking and start speaking.

Missing Deadlines – When Life Gets in the Way, Get Into Life…

Sometimes deadlines are made to be broken. Okay, not really. But if you notice you’re breaking them, it’s time to stop collecting them. That’s just what I’m about to do.

I have been extremely fortunate with my Muskoka Novel Marathon experiences. I’ve participated four times, and I’ve won Best Novel Award four times (2007-Sebastian’s Poet, 2008-The Reasons, 2010-Half Dead & Fully Broken, 2011-That’s Me in the Corner). The winning manuscripts get sent to the desk of a publisher for both consideration & feedback. This is a huge opportunity. I’ve had great feedback on my manuscripts over the years.

My problem this year is that deadlines and commitments are converging. I’m trying not to look a gift-horse in the mouth, but his outrageously large teeth seem to be right at eye level at the moment. I now have 20 days to pound my winning manuscript into top form before it moves on to Red Deer Press for feedback/consideration. I’m still sitting at between 1/2 and 3/4 of a novel. You heard correctly…this is the first year I didn’t completely finish my first draft at the actual marathon. And I’ve had 3 months to complete it since the marathon took place. I was so absolutely sure my manuscript wouldn’t win this time around that I hardly worked on it between marathon time (July) and wrap-party time (in September, when the winners are announced).

I was going to find time to marathon the last 1/2 of the novel on my own. But two of the last three weekends before the November 1st deadline are already spoken for, and the 3rd weekend is three days before the deadline. I do believe my goose is cooked either way I look at it. I might be able to marathon the rest of the manuscript on the weekend of the 28th, but it gives me no time to take advantage of the marathon appointed editor to give it a final polish before it goes on to the publisher. The pressure is killing me.

But, boy did I ever digress. I was going to talk about deadlines and getting rid of them when life gets too full.

I missed a deadline a couple of weeks ago. It was like a stabby shot to the heart. And not only did I miss it once, but I was given a grace period second deadline and I missed it too! I HATE missing deadlines. It was for a Wordweaver (WCDR Newsletter) article on writing dialogue. The thing is, not only did I have SO much going on at the time…but I also struggled with the content of the article. It was one of those things–I know how to do it, but I can’t figure out how to explain it to someone else! Have you ever milked a cow? It looks really easy. And when someone is sitting there showing you how to do it, it looks so simple you get all cocky before it’s your turn to do it. Then you sit on that freakish three-legged stool (which in itself is a test. I think the Buddha himself created the three-legged stool…just to see if people were paying attention.) to give it a go and BAMMO! It’s not as easy as it looks. You pull and pull and pull…but that bloody udder won’t give you a drop. And the cow resents the hell out of your stupidity, too. She mocks you with a few growls and moans (or, if you prefer, MOOS). And, yes, I swear I even recall hearing a cow laugh. But then, with practice and discipline you figure it out…you realize there’s a real finesse to getting that milk to come. And then you sit there on your three-legged stool and you don’t fall over and you don’t tip the pail and you actually get a good portion of milk to come out. You’re a milker! BUT…then you try to tell someone else how to do it and you return to being your helpless self. Because you tell them, “Like this…see” and they fall off the stool and tell you, “this cow’s empty” because they can’t get the milk to come. It’s a vicious circle. DO is so much easier than TEACH.

Wow… okay. So much for staying on task. DEADLINES. I’m giving everything up for a little bit. I will see if I can’t get the marathon novel into submission readiness by November 1st, but after that I’m going to make no commitments. I seem to be living life lately…too busy for this huge train of a hobby that has somehow become such an integral part of my life. I can’t make writing commitments if I’m not meeting deadlines. I am anal about things like that.

Besides, life is so interesting and fulfilling at the moment. There are times when you just have to jump in and have fun. Put the writing away for a spell (is it true that only old people use the word spell in that context?).

My daughter is getting married on Saturday (Oct 15th) and the following Saturday I am going on a short trip of discovery to Ohio. I am SO looking forward to this wedding…I’ve seen the dress. She’s going to be the perfect bride. And we are getting an amazing son-in-law. It’s all good. I don’t want distractions. I don’t want deadlines bickering in the back of my mind for attention. So I’m just going to ignore the not-gonna-make-the-deadline-guilt that I’ve been feeling lately. I have to. Because sometimes, when life gets in the way, you have to take the leap…and get into life!