Author

Diane Duane

Film and TVScriptFrenzyWriting

ScriptFrenzy 2011: "Dead and Breakfast", pages 48-56

by Diane Duane

 

(back to pp 43-47)

[scrippet]INT. RESTAURANT — EVENING

A nice restaurant. Joy and Harry are in the middle of the meal. An empty bottle of wine is taken away and a new one is brought. Both of them seem edgy.

HARRY
And on top of it all, you forgot to leave the key at the hotel again. I couldn’t get a clean shirt.

Joy starts going through her “secret pockets” with much VELCRO-RIPPING, hunting for the key in an abstracted way.

JOY
Oh, honey, I’m sorry. It’s just been — a weird day, that’s all.

HARRY
At least I was able to thank George. That was one heck of a tip he gave me.

JOY
Was it?

HARRY
It won me six hundred quid. I wish I’d bet more.

JOY
Oh, honey, that’s terrific! See what I mean about it being such a nice place.
(ready to tell him)
Harry — there’s something unusual about the people there.[/scrippet]

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Medicine, nursing, healthTechnogeekery

Now this is interesting: a powered exoskeleton for paraplegics

by Diane Duane

It ain’t cheap. But I wonder if this is one of those things we’re going to see come down in price as the affiliated technologies become cheaper, and as more people start using it. Assuming that they do…

ReWalk™ is a man-machine device where the user is actively involved and has control of all mobility functions, through unique control processes. Walking is controlled through subtle changes in center of gravity, stability and safety are secured by use of crutches. Participation in mobility control comes naturally and intuitively, and brings tangible health and emotional benefits. ReWalk™ is not just a vertical wheelchair – ReWalk™ restores the element of control over mobility so lacking for wheelchair users. As any wheelchair user can attest, life in a wheelchair carries a hefty healthcare price tag. Serious problems with the urinary, respiratory, cardiovascular and digestive systems are common, as well as osteoporosis, pressure sores and other afflictions.

By maintaining users upright on a daily basis, and exercising even paralyzed limbs in the course of movement, ReWalk™ alleviates many of the health-related problems associated with long-term wheelchair use. In addition to relieving suffering, this has a real impact on healthcare costs – cutting, and enabling both insurers and individuals to redirect funds to other avenues. Adoption of ReWalk™ by wheelchair users results in significant cost saving at both institutions and private homes. ReWalk™ makes standing devices, stair lifts, bed lifts, and other mobility assistance apparatus redundant. Similarly, ReWalk™ users don’t require expensive powered wheelchairs – or the oversize vehicles and devices required to handle them. With ReWalk™, users require only minimal additional mobility assistance – dramatically increasing independence together with cost saving on a yearly basis.

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Film and TVScriptFrenzyWriting

ScriptFrenzy 2011: "Dead and Breakfast", pages 43-47

by Diane Duane

 

(back to pp 38-42)

[scrippet]EXT. PICCADILLY — DAY

Joy and Gunter have finished lunch. They EXIT the cafe, walking down Piccadilly toward the Circus.

GUNTER
No, we don’t have to eat or drink. But it does make us feel more… alive? So most of us do.

JOY
It’s just — I don’t get it. Why are you here, when other dead people aren’t?

GUNTER
I don’t know. Any more than George does, or Sarah.

They pause near the Circus. Gunter looks across the street at what is now a Burger King.

GUNTER
August 15, 1940: that was my last mission, mine and four others’. Right there, it ended. They all went on. At least I have never seen them again, and were they still here, I surely would have. We cannot go far from where we die. It is too painful.

JOY
But look, isn’t there supposed to be a tunnel of light or something?

GUNTER
(slight, sad humor)
Ah yes, the light.
(beat)
It is very easy to be a bomber pilot, you know? Not the flying, I mean. The bombing. Everything is so far down, so far away. You drop the bombs, you go home… it’s nothing personal.

They cross the street. Gunter finds it painful to be here: after that first look, he does not look at the Burger King again. They walk to the statue of Eros, and around it, slowly.

GUNTER
I dropped them again and again. Nothing personal. Then that last day, a Hurricane fighter shot us down. We crashed just there —
(indicates the spot)
I got out of the plane, I thought, and tried to find my crew. All I could see was the fires, so terrible: everything burning all around me, the people screaming… That was personal, when I was in the midst of it. That was my doing.
(beat)
There was a light. I saw it. But the fires were so much brighter. I got lost among them. When they died down, and I wasn’t lost any more, that light was gone. I have not seen it since.

JOY
How awful!

GUNTER
Oh, it wasn’t so bad. I was confused, the way a lot of us are who don’t go on. I thought I was downed in an enemy city, so I hid in bombed-out buildings, starved a little — Then one night came more bombs. They fell right on top of me, and didn’t kill me. Then I knew.

They cross the street, away from Eros and down toward Regent Street. For once, the splendid buildings and the bustle of London do nothing for Joy.

JOY
And all this time you’ve been here…

GUNTER
While the world just keeps going. You move among the living, and for them, life goes on. But you can change nothing, do nothing really new. Everything is the same… always.
(shrugs)
It’s not so bad. Lots of live people go through their days the same way, changing nothing, doing nothing new… They never even notice.

JOY
Are there a lot of you? I mean, more than just here?

GUNTER
Many. Some have a thing they want to do: they wait till they can do it, and then go. Some love this place too much to leave, and won’t go on. Great ones, some of them.

JOY
When do you see them? Where?

GUNTER
We have places where we meet sometimes. The society of our own kind is a comfort.
(shrugs)
We keep up with the news. Who is here, who has moved on.

JOY
(a little sad)
I guess you must really want to.

GUNTER
Oh, sometimes. But I also think of the war… and I say to myself, “So many things I destroyed, ‘only following orders.'” I would like to make it up. To say, “I am sorry.” But I can never think of something. Or anyone to say it to.
(sad but putting an amiable face on it)
Maybe someday. For the time being, best to leave things the way they are.

They turn the corner at the bottom of Regent Street, pausing there a moment to look down toward Trafalgar Square.

JOY
It’s really so sad, though. George, and Doris… they can’t even touch.

GUNTER
One must learn to be intimate in other ways.

A look between them. Joy glances away, embarrassed. They start walking again toward the Square.

JOY
You say you can only touch dead things, like your clothes. But you go through walls. Why don’t you just go through your clothes, too?

GUNTER
We can choose what to touch, with some practice. To keep something, so that it moves through things with you, takes time to learn. And each new object, you must get used to, first. It takes an hour or so.
(grins)
This is why we need betting shops for our upkeep. I know some who have suggested taking money from cash machines. But one has to stand with one’s arm in the machine for an hour. People notice. And anyway, I would not like to steal.

JOY
(laughs: rueful)
It sounds like hard work. I always thought being a ghost would be easy. You just jump out and say “boo” to people.

GUNTER
Not if you want them to have lunch  with you afterwards.

A smile between them. Then Joy looks shocked.

JOY
God, look at the time. I have to go meet Harry.

GUNTER
Perhaps I will see you later, then.

JOY
I guess so —

GUNTER
(off her flustered look)
Joy. What are you going to tell him?

JOY
I don’t know.

She hurries away through Trafalgar Square, plainly troubled:  no Mary Tyler Moore stuff this time. Gunter watches her go.

INT. HOTEL NEAR COMPUTER SHOW — LATE AFTERNOON

A cross between a seminar and a cocktail party. At the first part, the seminar, it’s being “explained” to the WIVES, as a PowerPoint presentation, what their husbands are doing. Almost all of the Wives are rapt in the presentation. Joy, however, is terminally bored, and looks horrified to find herself the odd woman out. Anyway, she’s still distracted by what’s on her mind at the moment. Harry notices this and looks distressed by her obvious disinterest.

At the cocktail party, most of the SALESGUYS congregate, chatting: the women, off by themselves, do the same. Joy listens to their chat for as long as she can, but her mind is elsewhere. She’s relieved when Harry comes to get her.

HARRY
Dinner?

JOY
Please. I didn’t know the Stepford Wives had an English branch.

[/scrippet]

 
(to be continued…)

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ScriptFrenzyWriting

ScriptFrenzy 2011: "Dead and Breakfast", pages 38-42

by Diane Duane



 
(back to pp 32-37)
 
[scrippet]INT. EARL’S COURT COMPUTER SHOW — DAY

A big convention-center space, full of crazed computer people selling things to each other as fast as they can. An incredible ROARING DIN of voices from salesfolk, attendees, and loud sound systems.

The Erickson stand is one of the largest in the show — a small seating area with big screen, and numerous smaller stands, sales areas for the staff (including Harry) to see buyers and take their orders, a small bar, cardboard cutouts of Robert Erickson, etc etc.

To one side, near one of the cutouts, a TV REPORTER from the London 24-hour news channel, is taping the lead-in for the interview she’s about to do with Erickson. In B.G. of this shot we see Joy go by, craning her neck to see past, looking for Harry, then EXITING SHOT.

TV REPORTER
Three, two, one… By far the best-known face at ACAPS this year is Robert Erickson, self-made billionaire and one of the ten richest men in the United Kingdom. From his humble and unlikely beginnings as an maverick inventor working in a shed in the London suburb of Islington, Erickson has seen the company he founded grow to

TV INTERVIEWER
dominate the markets of three continents. But he’s never lost the personal touch, so it’s no surprise to see him here at ACAPS for the world product launch of Erickson Computers’ hottest new item, the epsCetera Pocket P.A., a WiFi-, 4G- and Web 2.0-friendly “smart” personal assistant device that fans and critics alike have labeled the “BlackBerry Killer”.

The Erickson stand has a sales area — tables, chairs, a soft drink dispenser, surrounded by posters and displays — where the sales staff are talking to retailers and taking orders from them. Harry sits at one table, writing in a looseleaf notebook with one hand, working with one of the abovementioned Pocket P.A.’s otherwise.

POCKET P.A. “VOICE”
Harry, I’ve got a message for you.

Harry TOUCHES AN ICON on the little touchscreen.

POCKET P.A. “VOICE”
Call incoming from Nigel at oh nine thirty.

HARRY
Put him on hold for three minutes. If he can’t hold, call back then.

POCKET P.A. “VOICE”
All right.

JOY
Harry!

He looks up, his expression annoyed. Joy comes rushing up to him, flustered. She puts her carry-all bag down on the table and starts rummaging through it, trying to find her badge for the show: can’t find it.

HARRY
Where’ve you been?

JOY
I’m sorry I’m late! I got lost on the subway.

HARRY
The Underground. But it’s okay. They’ve rescheduled the husband-and-wife seminar. It’s not till four.

JOY
Oh, good!

She stops going through the bag in search of the badge, starts going through her secret pockets instead. Underground tickets, scribbled notes, and Heaven knows what else pile up on Harry’s work surface. He pushes them out of the way of his work.

HARRY
But I went back to the hotel to get some things, and I couldn’t get into the room. You had the key!

JOY
Didn’t they have another one?

HARRY
(one more irritation)
Little family hotels here don’t usually. When you go out, you leave the key with them, okay?

JOY
Okay. Sorry. How’re you doing here?

Joy finds her badge, sits down by Harry to pin it on. Harry PEERS over her shoulder, alert for approaching clients.

HARRY
Like a house afire. Everybody wants our new baby here. I haven’t stopped writing orders since I got in.
(sees someone past her)
And here come some more. Listen, hon, I can’t stop to socialize right now. Got plans for today?

JOY
Yes. Gunter and I are having lunch.
(wants to tell him, doesn’t know how)
Hon, the hotel —

HARRY
I know. I promise I’ll get us out of there as soon as I can.

JOY
No! I don’t want to go. The hotel’s fine.

HARRY
(taken aback)
It is?

JOY
Yes. The people there are nice.

Harry looks at her suspiciously, wondering what this means. As he’s about to ask, his immediate superior in sales, BOYCE, mid-thirties with a too-slick look and feel, walks by. He pauses, a hand on each of their shoulders, friendly, but with a get-a-move-on feel to the interaction.

BOYCE
And you must be Mrs. Collins! I’m just delighted to meet you. I’ll be seeing you at the husband-and-wife function later on, yes? Super. Harry, those people from Electronic Arts are on their way over, and we can sell them about a hundred units on the spot if we have enough people to concentrate on them. So nice to see you, Mrs. Collins —

He’s off. Harry and Joy look after him with expressions of annoyance. Harry gives Joy a hurried smooch.

HARRY
Go on, hon. We’ll talk later. Have a nice lunch with Gunter.

Joy nods, GETS UP and EXITS. As Harry is surrounded by a bunch of other sales people and prospective clients, he looks after her as if hearing what he’s just said.

HARRY
Gunter…

On her way out, Joy STOPS, intrigued, and with many others rubbernecks as the reporter from L!ve TV interviews Robert Erickson. Erickson stands there with his hands in his suit pockets, exuding accessibility and charm. He is upbeat and pleasant, even while rattling off buzzwords.

TV REPORTER
Many of your competitors have claimed that you must be using substandard materials or manufacturing processes to keep your prices so low.

ERICKSON
You mean, so low that we routinely undercut theirs by more than forty percent.
(chuckles)
All we’re doing is using British manufacturing skill and know-how to run a lean, effective organization. With our employee-friendly work structure, we can afford to take lower profits than our competitors, without resorting to ethically questionable practices like mass outsourcing. Erickson produces a world-class product while also creating jobs in the British workplace and plowing the benefits back into the local community.

There’s a brief interruption as a group of POWER-RANGER CLONES in flashy costumes walk by behind Erickson with signs advertising a videogame. He reacts with amusement, turns back to the interviewer.

TV REPORTER
The exact source of that know-how has been a bone of contention for some time, hasn’t it?

ERICKSON
If you mean, would our competitors like us to tell them exactly how we cram five hundred percent more performance into our components than they can, of course they would! The Erickson chipset is the standard for performance and durability all over the world: our components are guaranteed to keep the memory burnt into them forever, or until the silicon and plastic wear out — whichever comes first. That kind of reliability, anyone would want in their hardware! Especially our competition. But they can’t match it. I understand how frustrated that must make them. I was frustrated too, a lot of those late nights in the shed, until I found the secret.
(beat)
Maybe I should rent them the shed.

LAUGHTER from some of the assembled crowd.

TV REPORTER
Is it true that only three senior executives of your company know all the details of the production process?

ERICKSON
Sorry, no. Only one man knows them all: me. The data can only be released to my successor after the courts declare me dead.
(grins)
Pity I’ll miss the sideshow when it kicks off. Sometimes I think it’d be fun to fake my death at least once to get a preview.

More LAUGHTER: the interview continues. Joy, unconvinced by the charm offensive, wanders off to one side and has a last look at Harry. He is with a client, all animation and laughter: he makes his sale. It’s the kind of animation he does not have with her. Thoughtful, Joy EXITS.
[/scrippet] (to be continued…)

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Home lifeHumor

*ping* …AAAAAAUGH

by Diane Duane
My broken glasses

They're so busted.

…The “ping” being the right-hand earpiece of my glasses made when it snapped. The “Auuuughhh” being the sound I made as I just barely kept them from falling off my face.

Now here I sit with them taped together in the most fragile and geekette-ish manner imaginable. And exactly at the time when all other funds in the house are spoken for. It’s going to be days and days before anything can be done about this.

Oh well. At least this explains why the vision in my right eye seemed to have been acting so strangely all week. At least I know it’s not my retina kicking up or anything.

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EuropeScriptFrenzyWriting

ScriptFrenzy 2011: "Dead and Breakfast", pp 32-37

by Diane Duane



 
Back to pp. 26-31
 

[scrippet]INT. ORMONDE HOTEL BREAKFAST ROOM — MORNING

Joy eats her breakfast while reading the paper. George passes by her table, purposely “walking small” and trying not to be noticed.

JOY
George —

He pauses, tense.

GEORGE
Mrs. Collins?

JOY
Your people are strange.

GEORGE
My people —

JOY
The English.

The tension lessens. Joy points at the paper with a piece of bacon she’s holding.

JOY
This lord of yours says his estate is being ruined by UFOs leaving crop circles all over his fields. Lord —
(pronounces it as spelled)
Cholomondeley.

GEORGE
“Chumley.”

JOY
What?[/scrippet]

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CatsHome lifeIrelandMedicine, nursing, health

For those interested: Mr. Squeak is back from the vet hospital

by Diane Duane

Squeaky practices the stink-eye

“Recovering at home,” I guess, is the best phrase to use. He looks a little peculiar, since they partially shaved both his forelegs — one for the first IV he was on, and the other to use when he (somehow or other) pulled the first cannula out. He’s been ambling around looking vague, or else sleeping a lot, and right now — today being an unusually nice day for Ireland, sunny and still — he’s sitting out in the back yard soaking up the sunshine.

…But “recovering” is kind of an optomistic usage here. Chronic renal failure is 100% fatal, eventually. It’s just a question now of how long “eventually” takes. Right now we have to give the medications Squeak is on enough time to kick in, and see whether they help his appetite (which right now is worryingly marginal) and his other symptoms. He’s drinking well enough, though not as much as he was when he was in crisis last week — which is a good thing. The question now becomes whether he’ll start feeling like eating enough to make some kind of improvement in his condition likely.

This is, finally, a quality-of-life issue. Squeak has always been a dignified cat, and there’s no point in depriving him of that dignity, especially at his advanced age, just for the sake of what might be only a few more months of life. I’m guessing that within a couple of weeks we’ll know whether there’s any point in continuing vet runs for blood work and so forth, or if it would be kinder for all concerned — especially our most senior puss — to ask our local vet to make one last house call.

Meanwhile, through all of this, work goes on. It ain’t easy. But thanks to everybody who’s tweeted or emailed to send support. (And thanks also to all those who picked up a subscription to The Big Meow, or a copy of the Uptown Local and Other Interventions anthology or something else from the ebook shop, to help with the vet bills. It’s seriously appreciated.)

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ScriptFrenzyWriting

ScriptFrenzy 2011: "Dead and Breakfast", pages 26-31

by Diane Duane



 
(back to pp. 18-25)
 

[scrippet]INT. ORMONDE HOTEL LOBBY DESK — NIGHT

Joy’s finger pressing down hard on the RING HERE FOR SERVICE bell, with the associated strident RINGING. After a few moments, Doris appears, looking sleepy and confused.

JOY
I want you to find me another place to stay. Right now.

DORIS
(not sure what’s wrong)
Why, if there’s something wrong, do let me —

JOY
I met your husband.

DORIS
(uneasy)
And…?

JOY
He’s dead! And so is everyone else here but us!

DORIS
Uh, yes.

JOY
And you let them stay here!

Doris comes out from behind the desk and starts unnecessarily “tidying” the front of the reception area. She’s becoming annoyed in a way she can’t usually allow to show.

DORIS
Well, of course I do! Everybody has to have somewhere to stay! Do you think I want them to have to live in the street in cardboard boxes, like homeless people?[/scrippet]

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ScriptFrenzyWriting

ScriptFrenzy 2011: "Dead and Breakfast", pages 18-25

by Diane Duane



 
(back to pp. 12-17)
 

[scrippet]INT. HARRODS FOOD HALL — DAY

The two of them wander through the place, among the painted tiles and displays of food.

JOY
So if you don’t have family here, or business, why do you stay in London?

GUNTER
I suppose I am the eternal tourist. These people, their lives and surroundings…they fascinate me. I cannot seem to leave.

JOY
These surroundings? They’re a little commercial.

Gives her an appraising look.

GUNTER
True. But there are many places less so.

JOY
So show me someplace uncommercial.

EXT. ST. CLEMENT DANES CHURCH — DAY

The Royal Air Force’s little church in Fleet Street. They ENTER.[/scrippet]

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ScriptFrenzyWriting

ScriptFrenzy 2011: "Dead and Breakfast", pages 12-17

by Diane Duane



 

(back to pages 7-11)

[scrippet]INT. COLLINS’S HOTEL ROOM — DAY

It’s minuscule, decorated in best British ’70’s style: cheap wood paneling, ancient wall-mounted phone and pushbutton radio, tiny built-in desk and chair, the skinniest possible double bed: barely room to move. The bathroom is a tiny cubicle. As Harry and Joy ENTER (with difficulty), the room comes as a shock to both. Harry drops the suitcases, resigned, as Joy tosses her bag onto a chair.

JOY
Isn’t this… snug!

HARRY
Hey, nostalgia. I haven’t slept in a closet since before my divorce.

Joy tries to get past Harry to the bathroom. It’s a struggle: they squeeze past each other with difficulty. Now that they’re in the room, Harry’s tiredness really catches up with him. He pushes the bags up against the wall and collapses on the bed, eyes closed, while Joy continues examining the room.

JOY
Well, like you say, I’m going to be out sightseeing most of the time. And it’s only for a couple weeks…

HARRY
(sleepy but emphatic)
No, it’s not. As soon as we can, we’ll find someplace else. This is a dump.

JOY
Oh, isn’t that a little harsh, honey? The people downstairs seem nice. …Honey?

She GLANCES at him. He’s already ASLEEP: he SNORES.

Joy lets out an affectionate breath, goes to him: quietly gets Harry’s shoes off, puts a pillow under his head. Briefly she sits down by him with a “What do I do now?” ~look.

Her eye falls on her bag: the guidebook she was reading in Immigration has fallen out of it, the picture of Big Ben noticeable on its cover.

JOY
Yeah…
[/scrippet]

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ScriptFrenzyWriting

ScriptFrenzy 2011: "Dead and Breakfast" pages 7-11

by Diane Duane



 
(Back to pages 1-6)

 
[scrippet]INT. HEATHROW MAIN CONCOURSE — MORNING

Joy and Harry have collected their luggage. Joy waits while Harry goes through their carry-on luggage and comes up with two slick-looking SMARTPHONES. He hands Joy one.

HARRY
Here’s yours for while we’re here. We drop them off at the show when it’s over.

JOY
They ought to let you keep them.

HARRY
You kidding? Mrs. Erickson’s little Bobby didn’t get to be the tenth richest man on the planet by giving his employees freebies. Discounts, maybe…

Joy turns hers over in her hands, looks at it.

JOY
It’s really nice.

HARRY
Best on the market.

JOY
The eternal salesman.

HARRY
No, it’s true! Best performance for the least money. Drives the competitors nuts. They wish they could figure out how we do it.

JOY
How do you do it?

HARRY
Don’t ask me. That’s hardware. I’m sales. But anyway, it’s all set up so you can text me or tweet me if I have to cancel dinner or something…

JOY
(resigned)
You mean “when.”

HARRY
Look, hon, you knew this would be a working holiday. You said, I understand, I’ll probably have to be on my own a lot, I’ll cope…

He’s not cruel about this, just needs her to understand. Joy tries to put a good face on it as they head toward a door signed “TAXICABS”, through which the cab rank is visible.

JOY
And I will. I just wish we could have a real vacation together, a normal trip, like normal people….

HARRY
Joy, you know how work’s been.

JOY
And now I’m going to have to spend my days running around in a strange country all by myself…

HARRY
Come on, Joy, it’s not as if we don’t all speak the same language.

They pass a newsagent kiosk sporting a “Sun” broadside advertising today’s edition. It says, “GAZZA HAZZA BOG ROMP!” Joy gives it a look.

JOY
I’ll take your word for it. [/scrippet]

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