Dark Karma

An update and a few statements.

The last time you humored me and checked out this cyberwordspace, I was imploring the cosmos at large for a home.  Not for me, but for a story.

I didn’t do it for myself, not at first.  I did for a friend.  Then I was abandoned.  Not cool or perfect enough.  That friendship, that trust, is gone.  All I’ve got left… is a story.  And dreams, like people, should belong somewhere.

I didn’t think it would happen.  But I found a place.

McMinnville, Oregon.  In the heart of Oregon’s wine country.

Saturday May 14th at 2pm, the Willamette Radio Workshop will perform “Proteus Rising” live on stage at the McMenamins Hotel Oregon, as part of the 12th Annual McMinnville UFO Festival.

I don’t have the words to describe how great this show is going to be.  Talented professionals with experience in stage, screen, and sound are the backbone of WRW.  I work with them often and, well, basically they’re all friends of mine.  At the very least, they don’t burst out laughing at the first sight of me.  So to be fair, personal bias could inform my appraisal.  But the sizes of their audiences and the cross-generational appeal removes all doubt.

But on top of all that, many of them are fans — many more than I expected.  An impetuous, tongue-in-cheek query over pre-Super Bowl brunch has regenerated into another draft of the script and reports of enthusiasm from the group.

They can do it.  They know how to do it.  And they don’t merely want to — they’re freakin’ out.  Or so they’re telling me!

Now here’s the real point.  Hope.  The point of this story.  Of writing.  Of blogging.  Of voicing your thoughts and sharing links in cyberspace.  It’s all self-expression.  You have to share it.   So out it comes.

It’s also communication.  You don’t know who you’re talking to.  Not really.  Therefore you never know what response you’re going to get in return.  Maybe someone lays down a snark or a cheap shot.  Maybe someone accuses you of preaching to the choir.   You can’t affect any real change doing what you’re doing.

But the real value of writing, of any art, comes when someone else really needed that thought — that voice — to come from you.  This world can be a long, hard ride.  And it’s not always easy to clear one’s mind of the many loud voices all slagging you, criticizing you, telling you lies.  So when you write something or post something, and someone else gets it, suddenly you’re connected.  You’re not alone.  You needed that little bit of reinforcement, of validation.

We shouldn’t have to fit in.  We should belong.  Conformity, making oneself less so the collective can become more, is not belonging.  It’s neither improving, maturing, strengthening, or nurturing.  It’s using perfection as a blunt instrument, pounding the vulnerable and the unique into a convenient shape, something easy for the weak-minded to absorb.  It’s breaking a runner’s legs to keep everyone in lock-step.  And of course ee cummings said it better and it’s a cliche now, but the truth remains.  It’s a bitch to be yourself.  And even when you master it, the collective breaks you the first chance it gets and forces you to start over.

That’s the point.  The point of “Proteus Rising.”  Of writing.  Of anything we do that says, “This is me.”  You’re using your voice.  Testing the waters.  Putting yourself out there.

We take the dive with ever changing mixtures of courage and false bravado.  Even the so-called experts.  Even Olivier puked his guts out before every show.  So when someone busts your chops — I mean, knocks you down hard — knowing that someone else relates to you, knowing they like the way you transmit things to them and that they want you to, sometimes it’s the only thing helping you pick yourself off the ground.

For most of my life, I’ve been asked why I write.  I write to keep sane.  To stay myself.  But now I see:  Maybe I’m helping someone else stay sane, to retain his or her own identity.  Something I said resonated, and that was enough to make the soul-killing lies of a false world ring hollow again.  When you preach to the choir, it can be forgiven — if you make the world ring properly once again.

But that won’t happen if you give in to the silence.  If you submit to despair.

It’s not easy.  I fight despair all the time.  I take meds for it.  I seek inspiration and encouragement constantly.  Doctor Who is one of those inspirations, one of those encouragements.  All my life, people have told me not to write.  To give up on my talents or my beliefs.  To be less smart or more smart.  To be less ugly, to be more rich.  To be perfect.  To be a drone like everyone else.  To be seen instead of heard, to give in and join the silence.

Now the silence swallows me up like a whale.  Sometimes I can barely speak.  So I write.  I blog.  I post links.  I preach to the choir.

And somewhere out there, the lies ring hollow for someone other than myself.

And one day soon, for an hour, someone else will hear the groan of ancient engines.

True, we’ll be surrounded by folks in tinfoil.  But I won’t be alone.  And neither will they.

This could well be the end of our wretched fanboy saga.   The script is complete.

Technically, the first draft.  But I’ve made so many edits and major plot revisions while writing it that it feels more like a third draft.  Every time I took a significant detour from the treatment, I saved it to a new file.  Three detours.  Three files.  The third time’s the charm, they say.

I was aiming for a 45-page script.  The plot as outlined would’ve been longer, maybe twice as long.  Scenes were combined, condensed even more beyond the treatment stage, or simply cut.  And after all that, this completed draft is roughly 60 pages.

But it’s all a moot point.  Unless someone actually performs it.

So if anyone — anyone — anyone out there is reading my nonsense, speak out.  I’m attaching an Abode Acrobat file (PDF) of the Proteus Rising audio script. If you read it, I’d like constructive feedback.

And nicely.  Spambots, trolls, and other defective brain cases need not apply.  Causing trouble will only provide me with a data trail.  And some of my friends don’t wear white hats.

And of course, yet another disclaimer for writers, producers, and anybody working with the BBC.  We’re talking about an unproduced Doctor Who story.  This isn’t for your eyes.

And obviously, I’d love to hear from anyone interested in actually performing this thing.

I mean, c’mon.  Say hi.  Or  “cool!”  Or even the perennial “I laughed, I cried, it became a part of me.”

Because that’s what I was shooting for.

We return to our horrific tale of fanboy obsession and computer keyboard intrigue.

This is the second or third draft of this posting.  It turned into a loud, bitter rant.  But this should be about the story, not the noise or the foolishness that distracted from it.  So let’s get back to that.

I went through a lot of wrangling to hammer out the basics of this new version.  And even in the scripting change, I’m still banging on it.

Writing isn’t about perfection.  Writing is about getting the ideas out.  Get it all out.  Out of your head.  Outta yer system.   Screw perfection.  Put it down on the page.   Do it now.   All the clean-up — the tightening of bolts, the caulking of plot holes, gritting your teeth, cutting out the stuff you love but doesn’t work or moves too slow — that’s editing.  Edits come later.  Write it down first.

I point this out because of the shaky nature of this treatment. A synopsis is a quick sketch, summarizing the overall plot.  An outline can be done several ways, sometimes as a list of key plot points, or a scene breakdown that narrates key events.  A treatment is usually more detailed than all the rest, written like a short story, spelling out the drama.

If you’ve been following this blog thread from the beginning, you already know about the distractions that brought me here.   This treatment was written under the pressure of those distractions, in the hope of stripping all the rathole ideas and audience pandering that was holding the story down.

And even with that, it’s still kinda messy.  Writing.  Getting the ideas out.  So I’m going to throw in commentary, the sort of stuff people say when their place is a mess and they weren’t expecting guests.

And again, this is a Doctor Who story.  BBC employees, writers, and producers of a nervous disposition should be mindful of this.  But knowing that, and if you’re still interested, follow the jump: Read more »

I was going to say, “Here’s a quick update.”  But this little addendum only brings you up to 2008.  And if you’ve been reading my posts, by now you’ve figured out that, for me, quick means a few thousand years — I mean, words.

“Eternity Calling” started in 2002.  Crashed and burned.  Everyone moved on to other things.  Six years later, Neil buzzed me about the old story.  About doing it again.

Apparently Jon Blum was going to be in Boston again, and Neil suggested re-recording the story.  More Seventh Doctor, only he wouldn’t get to say, “Aaaaaace!”  Apparently the fan who played the Seventh Doctor’s on-air companion Ace wasn’t available.

So they couldn’t ramrod a Time Rift reunion into the prison rape cluster[BLEEP] of my poor, battered ‘n’ beaten story idea that had to walk through the snow both ways before getting run over by a Good Humor truck.  Real frickin’ shame.

Not that I’m bitter or anything.  Phfft.  Hell.  Tap my leg like a maple tree and you’ll get a bucket of Angostura.

I tried not to make a big deal out of it, but it came through all the same.  Neil and Jon wanted to re-rewrite the script to use another Seventh Doctor companion, Benny Summerfield.  And I didn’t exactly dance a jig:

You guys do what you need to do.  All that’s really left is an idea that was once mine.  If I can help it along, I’d appreciate it if you could gimme a holler.

To be fair, Jon Blum was patient and thoughtful about it (something I’m not used to):

Go right ahead and give us your ideas on messing with it!  I’m not out to take over the project — I’m approaching it as basically being Neil’s (and your) baby…

BTW, I’m sorry about the rewrites at the time — the re-recording after the opening bit was wiped was an act of desperation based on which actors we could get back together!

See, he was trying to be nice about it.  But it was clear that, in their minds, I was only there for the ride.  This was a courtesy call.  They could’ve gone and done it without a word to me.  Again.

We exchanged ideas back and forth.  Some enthusiasm.  A few lame jokes, mostly mine.  Plot points and images were bandied about.

Then nothing.

At least for another two years.  Then we can honestly say we’re up to date.

After a series of blogging prohibitive encounters (i.e. life — more on that later, much later, perhaps one day), we return to the sordid tale of fanboy obsession and behind-the-scenes intrigue.  After the jump:  “Eternity Calling.”

Read more »

Right, back to the tangled roots of the Doctor Who audio project called something-Proteus-something.

You might remember the background.  Neil Marsh and I were working on a fan audiodrama where the Doctor was female.  Fanboy dickering drove the project into a ditch twice before.  A big popularity contest.  Sort of like high school, only shorter.  We moved on to Afterhell after that.

The worst of it faded into the background noise of the scriptwriting process.  Unfortunately that was an even bigger mess.

I started on a full outline of the whole storyline, cliffhangers and all.  Then Neil sent an e-mail, panicking.  Forget the outline, he said.  He could really use a script, something to show people.

I wrote the first few scripts based on what I had.  Then he grew concerned about the plotting.  Stop the scriptwriting.  He wanted the outline after all.

I went back to the outline, only to get more e-mails begging for scripts.

And so on and and so on.

Neil was always nervous.  Never satisfied.  Whatever I gave him, he needed more.  All this while writing Afterhell.  Yup, he had me writing two radio series at the same time.  And like an idiot, I went through this vicious cycle a few times, back and forth.  Recipe for burnout.

Anyway, after the jump,  this is the rough but completed outline for “I, Proteus.”

Read more »

Greetings, greetings, fellow stargazers!  This is the first official post from DarkKarmaWriter, my new personal blog.

Thanks to my wife Jamie for her help on the transition from my old blog to this one.  Not sure about the theme (my choice).  But it’s fine for now.

I was in the middle of the sordid behind-the-scenes details of “Proteus Rising” when I switched websites.  Switching to WordPress — which is great so far — and the oncoming work on “Proteus” itself caused the delay.

Updates are coming.  One exciting development already.  My wife and I have been secretly unfriended.  Oooooh.  What courage.

So if this posting goes through with relative ease, we’ll get right back to my sordid tale of passive-aggressive intrigue.

We continue this sordid tale of scriptwriting and fanboy intrigue. Reader discretion is advised.

For the sake of context and clarity, we’ll briefly cover the history of the project. Details behind the BBC writer/producer story-protecting jump:

Read more »

Let me start with profound apologies to anyone who cares about this here empty space of mine, my personal blog. The last few years have been turbulent, full of all those things, as John Lennon once wrote, that happen while you make other plans. Personal and professional conflicts. Illness. And family losses, including my father. I wish I knew how to juggle blogging and all those other things at the time. But I’m here now.

And Facebook is one hell of a time sink. Hello, Facebook, by the way.

I return with a mission. I’m stuck with a story that probably won’t ever be produced. Two reasons. One, it’s a Doctor Who story and their writing assignments are by invitation only. The second reason: The exec producer of this fanfic project, Neil Marsh (not the showrunners of the actual BBC production), is into passive-aggressive behavior. He has run away. Rather than abandon this project yet again, I intend to finish it — here on this blog.

The next several postings will feature the work in progress. If you were ever curious how a story or a script is written (or how I write them), maybe they’ll be interesting. Normally, copyright concerns would keep me from doing something like this. But Doctor Who is a BBC property and I wouldn’t claim otherwise. This is partly an exercise to begin with, playing with somebody’s else concepts to see what can be done.

But I also wanted to prove the work was being done — and that it’s worth doing. Enablers and apologists can dismiss the work and the worth out of hand, I’m sure. They almost have to. Otherwise they’d have to re-evaluate who and what they’re enabling and excusing.

Therefore, all and sundry are on notice: If Neil insists on abandoning this project, it won’t be for lack of a great story.

Because it’ll be here, true believers. Stay tuned.

Bamf. Materializing here on the blog. Why away so long? I’ll explain later.

Here’s one reason. Facebook. It’s been a fun little timesink. And buggy as hell.

One major plus to Facebook has been the opportunity to share news items with many people — covering a lot of social ground, through different demographics, cliques, and gaggles of online folk — with just a click.

But the news story of health care reform is so big, so crucial, and today so unpredictable that sharing one link isn’t enough.

Case in point: Howard Dean, a major booster for health care reform and the US Senate’s efforts, has come out against the Senate bill in draft now.

There’s plenty of news coverage on the politics of it, the great and superficially entertaining bruhaha around it. But very little about what it means.

Nate Silver at FiveThirtyEight.com best summarizes the pro side: that it will help some folks now and you’d be crazy not to.

Howard Dean’s complaints boil down to, “It will do more harm than good.” He claims:

• Under this bill, patients with pre-existing conditions can get health care, but at three times the cost. Health insurance companies can’t deny them care. They can simply price gouge, especially if they’re older.
• People will be forced to buy health care insurance or they will be fined.
• 27 percent of that money goes to health care CEO’s, not to the cost of health care.
• A small percentage of the US will qualify for this coverage.
• The coverage under this bill would last for only a few years — until 2014.

A private sector solution. No controls on the market. No universal coverage. With price hikes aimed at the old and the vulnerable.

Is Howard Dean correct? If he was, I’d hate this bill too.

So now I’m posting this to my personal blog and setting Facebook to import it. Please read. Think it over. Keep everyone talking.