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sarawhitehead222
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Posted: Wed Apr 23rd, 2008 05:15 am |
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JAKE
Oh, I’m sorry miss, I didn’t think… I didn’t know anyone else was down here. The beach is closed, you know.
CALLIE
(after a pause, looks up) Oh. Yes, I’m very sorry. I just needed a place, and this, well this was it.
JAKE
Yeah. No problem, it’s just, the sea can be a dangerous place.
CALLIE
Less dangerous than others, I would say.
JAKE
Pardon me?
CALLIE
I’m sorry. Never mind… ?
JAKE
Jake.
CALLIE
Jake. I’m sorry Jake.
JAKE
Don’t mention it. I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name?
CALLIE
Callie.
JAKE
What are you doing here, Callie?
CALLIE
(long pause) Do you ever get that feeling?
JAKE
What?
CALLIE
That feeling. You know, the one you get, after summer, or after a storm, or something. Like a let down somehow. And it could be that you had just experienced the greatest thing of your life, but somehow none of that matters, cause you’ve been filled with something empty. You ever feel like that?
JAKE
Yeah. Yeah I suppose I do.
CALLIE
You want to be alone, don’t you?
JAKE
A bit.
CALLIE
I’m sorry. It just seems like, I dunno, like this is place to be tonight. Don’t you think?
JAKE
Yeah. But the beach is closed, and…
CALLIE
Rules. They seem a little mundane, wouldn’t you say? They’re broken all the time.
JAKE
Well there are some things that just are, and you can’t change that.
CALLIE
I guess. But that emptiness. Shouldn’t that be something you should be able to change? I mean, its inside you for fuck’s sake.
JAKE
(picks something up, and looks at it) I get it.
CALLIE
Do you? I’m not so sure if you do. You ever felt this weak? I doubt it.
JAKE
No. Really. I get it.
CALLIE
Sure.
JAKE
You cold?
CALLIE
Yeah.
JAKE
Me too. You and I, we have more in common then you’d think.
CALLIE
(smiling a little sadly) Maybe. Hey could I ask you something?
JAKE
Shoot.
CALLIE
What would you do, if you finally realized what you need? But you learned that in the hardest, most painful way possible. And now, now you feel so weak, like you don’t even deserve to go after what you need. Does that make any sense?
JAKE
Yeah. Yeah it does.
CALLIE
Like somehow, what you thought you wanted all along wasn’t really what you wanted at all. And now it’s too late to fix that. Cause nothing you do can change what’s already happened.
JAKE
And it’s like summer’s end. Except this time, you’re not sure if it will ever come again.
CALLIE
Exactly.
JAKE
Where you going?
CALLIE
What?
JAKE
Why did you come out here on a windy night like this, down to this beach?
CALLIE
I just needed to.
JAKE
Yeah. And then I came. Down to the very same beach. To think about the very same things.
CALLIE
Very same things? Oh I highly doubt that. And to answer your question, I’m not going anywhere. That’s the thing. I’m trapped. I cant…
JAKE
Trapped.
CALLIE
Where are you going?
JAKE
Away, for a while.
CALLIE
To…
JAKE
France, if you must know.
CALLIE
Oh. (Silence) When?
JAKE
A couple hours. Train will be at the station soon. Comin’ to pull countless other boys away from their homes, their friends, their everything. Never a glance back. Fight and die for your country, lads. It sure as hell deserves it. (pause) I was honest. You’re turn.
CALLIE
Oh god. … Well I was stupid, I guess.
JAKE
We all make mistakes.
CALLIE
No, you don’t understand…
JAKE
Then help me to.
CALLIE
You’re not giving up, are you?
JAKE
That’s never been me.
CALLIE
Ok. Here goes. There once was a girl. She was, naïve one might say. She never thought about what could happen, it was always here, and now. Which is fine, I guess. But one day, she fell for a boy. And he told her he would be the best thing that ever happened to her. And she believed him. She believed every goddamn word he said. He was like, the sand after the spring melt; new, exciting, but with some sort of comforting familiarity about him. Like he was what she’d been looking for all along. And when he started to, show signs, she ignored them. Told herself it was normal. So when he invited her over for dinner, she was excited. Happy to be spending time with someone who cared about her. Rather than with a mother slumped across the couch with a bottle of whiskey night after night. And so when he pushed her down, and pressed a cool hand to her forehead and pinned it to the sheets, she told herself it was because he loved her. He loved her so much, he wanted to make sure she loved him in return. He whispered in her ear, and she was so terrified because what was supposed to be an act of love turned into something hateful, and she tried to pry him away but he wouldn’t let go. And so she lay there, and waited, with tears rolling down her checks, for him to be done with her. And when he was, he tossed her across his room like she was a toy. A broken toy. One that had served its purpose, and needed to be discarded. So she walked away, barefoot and broken, down to the shore where she though maybe the sea could wash her clean. Or wash her away.
JAKE
And here we are.
CALLIE
Here we are.
JAKE
I told you. You and I have a lot more in common than you would think. We’re both trying to get away. Although we’re running in rather different directions.
CALLIE
You might find this strange, but I wish you didn’t have to go, you know.
JAKE
(takes her hand) I wish you wouldn’t go either.
CALLIE
I’m not going anywhere.
JAKE
I wish that was true. But you are. Or at least, that’s what you were planning.
CALLIE
Don’t try to… don’t pretend you know me, Jake.
JAKE
Ok. I’m sorry. (Looks at watch) It looks like it’s time for me to go.
CALLIE
And so he left.
JAKE
I hope you find it. Whatever you’re looking for.
CALLIE
Don’t die.
JAKE
Remember me. And you, you don’t die either.
CALLIE
I’ll try not to.
JAKE
(smiles sadly) I guess this is goodbye then.
CALLIE
Goodbye Jake. Thank you.
JAKE
Goodbye.
CALLIE
And he walked away. Just like that. And I remember wondering why such a sweet, good boy had to sacrifice himself because of some bastards, somewhere far away. He walked away, and I watched his silouette disappear into the darkness. And soon, the only sound I could hear was the lapping of the waves on the shoreline. All I could see was the reflection of the waning moon on the surface of the black ocean. I wish I could say, that that boy came back, years later. That we got married, perhaps, and had children. That maybe we were sitting together on a porch swing some hundreds of miles away, thinking about the first time we met. Hands folded, watching the sky. But life doesn’t often work like that. And that’s not how things happened. I’m not sure how he died. All I know was it was somewhere on the shores of Northern France. I can see it happen, sometimes if I shut my eyes really tight. We never even got to say hello, let alone goodbye. It all seems quite unfair, doesn’t it? And why do I still think about this boy five long years after I met him for the first and last time? I don’t know. I don’t think I ever will. He was just there, I guess. Someone to hold onto. But none of that matters now. I’m grown, and married to the boy who brought Jake and I together. Which in a way, means I’m still allowed to think about him. But I failed him. Before he left he told me… And I said I wouldn’t die. And I have. (starts to tear up) I have.
DANNY
KATE! Come ‘ere you fucking whore!
(Lights down, curtin down)
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Edd
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Posted: Wed Apr 23rd, 2008 01:47 pm |
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Sara,
I love this! It is beautifully written. The characters are lovely and the dialogue is engaging. That said, the introduction of Danny destroyed it for me; totally, completely destroyed it. I'm sure you thought or felt you had a good reason, but it felt unnecessary and like a punch line. It went from a beautiful, ethereal slice-of-life to some kind of point--sharp, disappointing and an afterthought. Her last lines "And I said I wouldn't die. And I have. I have," which were shattering, powerful and heart-stopping--and a perfect conclusion--became, for me, trivialized by Danny's line. Those are my feelings. Just my feelings.
It is such a beautiful and well-written play. Bravo!
Thank you.
~Edd P.S. Welcome to our forum. We've got a great bunch of people here who will do their best to make you feel right at home.
Last edited on Wed Apr 23rd, 2008 02:17 pm by Edd
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sarawhitehead222
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Posted: Fri Apr 25th, 2008 12:38 am |
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Thank you very much for your words of welcome.
I am fairly new to the world of writing plays, but I am enjoying myself immensely so far. Thank you also for your feedback on my scene. I was a little bit iffy about the introduction of Danny as well, and now seeing your views I have come to the conclusion that that little addition was not for the best. Thank you for the feedback again, it was most helpful!
Sara
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TTigerX2
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Posted: Fri Apr 25th, 2008 08:18 pm |
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Sarah,
If I might add some suggestions. When two people talk, they both want something from the other, and this is often veiled in conversation. There is a tension because what they want from each other threatens the other or creates other emotions, based on insecurity, needs, experience, etc. The subtext is often seen in gestures and non sequiters.
In a setting like this, these two people don't even have to speak much. What will they do to get what they want from each other? Do we care that they get it?
Similarly, an actor will want to know a character's motivation, what do they need to express to get what they want. To set the scene, we need to know why they are there and why do they even need to be talking to one another. Often we end our conversations disappointed and nothing much happens. On other occasions, a short conversation can be replayed for months and can be an agent of change.
Hope this helps,
Tiger
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Basso
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Posted: Sat Apr 26th, 2008 03:02 pm |
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I couldn't agree with Tiger...less. Conversations are not always about what we want from someone, in fact, I would say that they are usually about what we want from ourselves. As human beings, in a state of flux or unhappiness, we bounce our voices off of anything that will listen; hoping upon hope to find meaning or justification for our existence. This whole notion of "tension" between actors may sound very good in a text book or in a class room, but has little meaning outside of that. Tension, is inherent in what one feels, it is a concomitant of our upbringing and experiences, not merely a device upon which to feed one's writing. A ballerina may seek to float while gravity pulls at her feet, yet neither one imbues the other with agenda.
Yes, there are times when we seek to elicit a response for our own benefit, or to gently manipulate someone to our advantage, but to say all such association is based upon this would be mistaken. If I speak of a life misspent to someone, I do not necessarily want anything from them. I speak, they are there, yet I am speaking to myself anyway.
Sara, I enjoyed your little drama. I think you have oodles of fine ideas. If you tighten your phrasing, you will make more of an impact, and give the actors more to work with; otherwise it will remain an atmospheric piece that lacks punch. Perhaps, that is what you want and if it is, that is fine; I only give you my impression.
That feeling. You know, the one you get, after summer, or after a storm, or something. Like a let down somehow. And it could be that you had just experienced the greatest thing of your life, but somehow none of that matters, cause you’ve been filled with something empty. You ever feel like that?
This is wonderful. She gives us an example of the deflation we feel after something euphoric, and how we know we ought to feel something of depth because of this experience, yet, instead, we don't feel anything. Love it, and I know this experience well. Yet, your dialogue, in my opinion, doesn't quite grip me, even though I fully understand the sentiment. I don't want to rewrite your paragraph, because that would be me writing, not you. I broke it down into a series of questions and answers; which I hope is clear. (The dialogue voices the answer to the internal question.) The reason I chose this paragraph is it sets up the other dialogue, later on.
"That feeling."
Which feeling?
"The one you get..."
And then?
"A let down."
Really?
"Something happened, something extraordinary, amazing...."
Omg, yea?
"Then...nothing."
Not anything?
"Nothing."
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Potabasil
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Posted: Sat Apr 26th, 2008 04:09 pm |
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nPqRo8b2yzA
Sara
When I was reading your lovely play I was listening to this song. It's in the Irish language, but it's very apt for your play.
give me back yesterday
and oh yeah, get rid of danny
Potabasil
Last edited on Sat Apr 26th, 2008 04:53 pm by Potabasil
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