We are proud to announce that THE TROGS has made it to the QUARTER-FINALS of the NexTv Writing & Pitch Competition. With nearly 700 submissions you should feel proud to know that your work was considered among the very best submissions of the competition. Overall feeling was that this was very good writing, a very compelling and commercial story with characters that are vibrant, flawed and exactly what actors and tv execs alike get turned on by. Nicely done. There was a hint of exposition that could have been made a bit more subtle, especially in describing what THE TROGS is. Perhaps you can keep the audience a step behind you at times, however, those are minor issues that didn't impact the overall enjoyment of the piece.
We plan to announce the Semi-finalists in a few weeks, the finalists 2 weeks later and the winners 2 weeks after that. The live awards ceremony will be in Los Angeles on Oct. 21. With a team of judges led by two former Senior Vice Presidents from Disney, wherever you end up placing in the competition, I hope you feel satisfied to know that your work was very well-received.
So yeah! Apparently, we could even win—an orange chair!
(But that's not even my only exciting news! My auntie, professor of creating writing, travel writer, and novelist, has an agent! I don't actually know if I'm supposed to be keeping that secret or not, so I'm going to compromise by not telling you what her name is until I know if I'm allowed to!)
Let's face it, it was a rubbish title. Worse than Fear Sweeney, even. And we'd been thinking about what to do about it for months now. What actually happened is kind of funny. You may note that in my last post I said, "Astonishingly, I haven't worked any explicit Platonic references into our story named after cavedwellers yet." And then, completely out of the blue, my father (who has not read The Republic, and who I can confidently say is not likely to read it at any time between the present and the freezing over of hell) said "What about Shadow Puppets?"
Yes, our story about a bunch of "cavedwellers" is now called Shadow Puppets, and it was not in any way an intentional reference to Plato. I laughed too. But it actually fits perfectly! They do live in the shadows, and they are the playthings of forces far beyond their control.
To celebrate our new name, we now have a new web site! ShadowPuppets.tv is your home on the Internet for all the latest Shadow Puppets news! Seriously, though, check it out, because I'm quite proud of it. It's probably the best web page I've ever written, which isn't saying that much when you compare it to, say, the monstrosity you're staring at right now. I admit that it does, apparently, break in Internet Explorer 6—but seriously, when was the last time an IE6 user went to a page that actually worked properly for them? Why don't they just give up? Why are they still six percent of the browser market when everybody hates them? It's beautiful and quite valid HTML5 (so much more pleasant to write than HTML 4.01, by the way) and if IE6 can't even handle a little position: relative;, then frankly it doesn't deserve to see my webpage. Anyway. Go look!
After 64 days, I've only got 1,983 words in the new version of Fear SweeneyIn Glen BolcainOdds and Evens whatever I'm calling it, and just filled up a third single-spaced page. Thirty words a day; not very impressive. I'm averaging 172 characters per day, though, so at least I'm writing more than one Twitter post each day.
Still, I am pleased with what I've got, and I think that it's a much better first 1,983 words than any other version of this beknighted novel has ever had. And I'm also pleased because I'm finally done with the introduction to MacPhellimey, which almost killed me this time around. (Plus I hid a little easter egg in there for all the Irish lit fans! I'm going to make it onto the TV TropesGenius Bonus page or die trying.1)
I keep coming up with little gems of images and scenes for the story, and hopefully now that I'm over the first hurdle of the MacPhellimey intro, I'll be able to make my way pretty quickly from here. This is almost certainly a lie, but it's one I need to tell myself.
Notes:
Don't tell Dad, but there's a Persian poetry reference hidden in the Trogs pilot, too. Astonishingly, I haven't worked any explicit Platonic references into our story named after cavedwellers yet, but I'm thinking I should at least work the phrase "I went down" into the script somewhere. Either that, or two people named "Kate" and "Ben".
Writing a single sentence of dialogue for Fergus MacPhellimey is almost as exhausting as eight hours at work. I wonder if anyone would notice if I decided to write him as a taciturn and ineloquent American.
Five uses of the word "smart"! That's pretty dang smart!
The somewhat bad news is that we didn't hear today whether Trogs won the WILDsound competition—judging has been pushed back to April. The absolutely astonishing news is that we got some feedback from the judges—and it was better than I ever could have dreamed. Not only did they get what we were trying to do—with the characters, the setting, and the overall atmosphere—but they liked what we were trying to do. They truly, genuinely liked it. This is a complete stranger with every motivation to critique us into the dirt, but the best they could do was point out a few spelling mistakes and suggest one extra stage direction. Here is their feedback in its entirety, and I swear it was written by an impartial judge and not, as it may initially appear, by my mom:
The script is written well, there's definite structure and the overall execution of the piece is a success. It's clear that the writer has taken time to develop and get to know all the characters involved in the story. The story begins with a clear and intriguing introduction to the main character, David Kenyon/Daniel Almond. Just the right amount of information is given, which allows the audience to get a feel of whom and what is involved in the storyline. The audience get to see Kenyon mess up while on the job, they find out what his job is, and they are introduced to his future work-place, Trogs1. The story is told at a very good pace and the writer knows exactly what information to share with the audience. There is great attention to detail in this script, which is the key to carrying the story through.
Trogs instantly becomes appealing once Kenyon/Almond first sets foot on the building. The company's front—is that it repairs typewriters. The place is full of all types of typewriters, this adds charm to the setting and the fact that Longshanks, the boss, actually does fix them is an extra plus. Also the idea that the shooting range was previously a sex-dungeon2 certainly makes Trogs a more colourful place indeed. These subtle details are so important because Trogs has now already become a creative and original piece. The next thing that benefits Trogs are the characters involved in the piece. All the characters in the show stand out distinctly and entail they're3 own individual niche. They also all carry their own baggage and skeletons, which have been smartly set up to unravel in future shows.
Kenyon/Almond is a smart, strong, confident, proud person but also sincere and caring. His disgust for Lenny, the paedophile, is one of the smart tools used to build Kenyon/Almond's character. Longhorn4 is the boss who would sacrifice one of his agents to get the job done. He holds his power by holding all the secrets to his agents. Johnston[e] is a no good, confidante of Longshanks. He doesn't care about anybody but himself. He is Longshanks lackey but he is unaware of how disposable he is to Longshanks5. Pierce is a clear leader but is drawn back by Longshanks. If he didn't have information about her mishaps then she could easily overthrow Longshanks. It is clear that she was never responsible for any mishaps—she was merely at the wrong place at the wrong time. Gunn is sincere, good at his job, but doesn't have patience for idiots like Johnstone and seems to have the tendency to express his frustration physically. Jax is the softest one, even though her exterior seems tough. She is a team player and needs trust in others to work together6. Lenny, who is one of the "irregulars" is a great character with a loathing disease7. His personality is ambiguous, which will mess with the audience's affection towards him.
This episode's plot is well-structured, interesting, and plays with smart tactics and characters. Ashevin8 and Beale are complete and convincing in their roles. The pace is good, the build up great, and the all and all interaction works like a charm. The dialogue is on the nose, fast, gives personality and emotion. A sample of dialogue from the script has been pasted below. The dialogue continues for a couple of minutes and all of it is great. This is just a small piece from that dialogue but enough to show the writer's knack for putting together smart, fast-paced, and attention grabbing dialogue. This dialogue is between Almond/Wambaugh and Beale p 339:
EXT. 18TH ST NW—MOMENTS LATER
Beale and Almond exit the car and walk into a Khmer restaurant called "Amok Time"10. They sit down at a table.
BEALE
This is all pretty dramatic, dude.
ALMOND
So is dying young. If you eat fish, try the amok trei11; it's all sustainably caught here. Otherwise, order the bok lahong without fish paste, it's vegan.
BEALE
The hell do I care about fish? They only catch the dumb ones anyway, right? I'm not some bleeding heart like the other two. Nice job on Jason, by the way. I can't believe I never thought of doing that.
ALMOND
People in this game either have bleeding hearts or no hearts at all. At least with the bleeding hearts you know where you stand.
BEALE
Yeah, and which one are you?
ALMOND
My heart bled to death a long time ago.
Another asset of the script is its ability to execute unpredictable and surprising actions. A few examples of these incidents are when Almond hits Johnstone at the beginning, when Pierce shoots Almond when he crosses the line, and when Gunn head butts Johnstone12. These actions are great and work like a charm to the audience's suspense factor.
The first episode is intriguing, original, and leaves the audience wanting more.
The last scene might need a bit more of a build up. It's not clear that Ashevin has noticed Ornyr'f tha13. It is described in the script—that it isn't hidden well under his jacket—but it has failed to mention Ashevin looking over and noticing it. Just a minor detail but pretty important once it's brought to the screen. There are also some spelling mistakes that need attention, for example mannekins = mannequins, blond = blonde, and curtsey = curtsy. Trogs possesses quality entertainment, intelligence, dark humour and has the potential to go far.
Oh. Sweet. Mercy. Every time we get a piece of news about Trogs, it's the best thing I've heard in my entire writing career. Granted, my entire writing career before Trogs wasn't exactly a constant flood of triumphs or anything, but still.
Notes:
Well, really the name of the group is "the Trogs", and the name of the workplace is "Longshanks & Partner Typewriter Repair". But the reviewer uses "Trogs" to refer to both.
There's a logic there, honestly.
And they critiqued my spelling? Pssh. Whevs, dudes.
They seem to have confused "Andrew Longshanks" with "Foghorn Leghorn".
This line makes me incredibly happy. If I could have written in one sentence what I wanted Johnstone to convey, it would have been this one.
This bit fascinates me—I hadn't actually thought of Jax along quite those lines, but it's a good analysis, and one that will probably affect how I see her from here on.
Loathsome, I think—though his loathing for his disease is crucial to the character.
Arshavin. It's kind of funny how they clearly read the script in great detail, yet managed to get all the names wrong.
In this scene, Almond is undercover as a legendary tree spiker named John Wambaugh, and is talking to a rabid young sociopath named Kevin Beale, who has fallen in with a group of would-be ecoterrorists.
So! Flipping! Good! Man, I wish there was a Khmer restaurant anywhere around here. (I double-plus wish it were called "Amok Time".)
One of my favorite things in this review is that it compliements both things I wrote that Dad was never sure about and things Dad wrote that I was never sure about. I would never have written any of those scenes on my own, and the script would have suffered for it. Dad's instincts told him the story needed those "short, sharp shocks", and his instincts were totally right.
Just in case any of you wanted to avoid spoilers before it hit the screen...
"We are all, in some way or another, going to Reseda some day to die."
So, more good news: Trogs is continuing to get attention. It's posted on InkTip, and this morning someone downloaded the script. All I'm going to say is that they are a writer and production associate working for a production company whose founder has a very long career working as both a director and an executive producer on Shows You Have Heard Of.
The way InkTip works is by giving production execs a huge pool of loglines and synopses to wade through, without any actual contact with writers. It looks like a couple people working for said production company (among others) have seen our logline since October, and evidently someone was tasked to take a look at it and see if it had any legs. It's more or less the equivalent of a literary agent asking for a full, in other words. Does it mean anything? Yes, but not a huge amount. If we hear from said production company a couple weeks from now, that means something. Until then, it's just something else to be neurotic about. (Not that I'm complaining!)
I hate the feeling I get when I read Fear Sweeney these days. Every word seems like it was written by someone who isn't nearly as clever as he thinks he is. It's supposed to be my magnum opus, and I can't read a paragraph without wincing. Most of that is probably me, my own personal feelings about this novel I've poured so much into over the years. No matter how many times I rewrite it, I can't get away from the baggage that every word in the manuscript carries along with it.
What if I try writing it again? Not rewriting it. Writing it again. No referencing earlier drafts, just a blank screen and a story to tell. Same basic plot, most of the same characters—but move it out of 2002, which is a year that gets harder and harder to write about with each passing year—otherwise it'll be categorized as historical fiction by the time I finish writing it. Make the characters my age. Put them in neighborhoods I actually hang out in. Rethink everything, and everything about everything.
Burn it all down. Build it back up. How else can I work on a novel I can't even read anymore?
