Script: “Proteus Rising”

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 — anyoneanyone 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.

Treatment: “Proteus Rising”

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

Addendum: “Eternity Calling”

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.