The Mystery Of The Moon

Just discovered this short story I wrote when I was nine years old. Not all of it makes sense, but I thought you might like to read it. The writing in red is what my teacher wrote, and the red markings in the story are my teacher's corrections (as best as I can translate from page to print.)

One night Charlie was looking at the moon when suddenly he saw something moving on it. Charlie phoned Luke and Kenny and told them about the moon. They came to Charlie's house and looked at the moon. Kenny said it was just an astronaut but luke said "you ain't got a brain dude it's a man from Mars that's on the moon you stupid dummy!". Charlie was the youngest he was 7 (seven) and he said "It looks like an elephant".

Kenny had an idea of sending a rocket to explore the moon. Kenny phoned a metal company called Masters Of Metal. He bought some metal. The total cost was over 1,000 pounds. To get the metal Luke gave 200 pound, Charlie gave 400 pound and Kenny Gave 35 pound and they boroughed (borrowed) the rest off their Dad's. Some experts made it look like the moonlander. It took only three months to make. It was called the moonlander. Instead of sending astronauts they sent nobody. They sent up automatic cameras to photograph the thing that was moving. "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, take off". It launched off to space. 

Good so far but please finish. 

2 Weeks later they were preparying for the moonlander to land.  The moonlander was in the sky and in was Getting nearer and nearer to Earth. When it landed it looked dirty and old. Charlie, Luke and Kenny ran up to the moonlander took out the pictures and took them home to look at. "Look look I've found a picture with a big red body and it's got an orange head" said Luke. "No it's not you just spilt tomato ketchup and beans on the photograph". The next night Charlie saw the monster on the but there were no photographs of it. Charlie, Kenny and Luke didn't have photographs to prove there was a monster. Sadly for the rest of their lives before they died they could never prove there was a monster. 

Interesting ideas.

Coming soon, SPACE ADVENTURE, another short story I wrote when I was 9!

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Basically

The writers went all crazy mental trying to write a script that would sell, and then they gave up and tried to write something from the heart, but no-one cared so they tried to write a script that would sell, again. The actors were desperate to land the roles so they sent emails to all the casting directors and went to the networking parties and smiled and blurted out answers about all their 'current projects'. The producers told everyone how Colin Firth was attached to their projects, and they told all the people at the parties how they were nearing production, and they told investors they needed money for production, and they told everyone else how they had all the money and guaranteed distribution and a guaranteed amazing project.

People got crazy depressed about how their dreams rapidly disappeared into the night like specks of snow that never quite settled. They'd wake up in the mornings with a plan, and go to bed with an emptiness soaring through their hearts. The plan was to be accomplished by 17, by 21, by 30, by 50. People smashed their souls down on paper and on screen and on answering machines, begging for opportunities and together thousands of people at any one time fired forth, determined to create or be a part of the next masterpiece.

Some youngster got a lucky break, and someone slightly older stopped getting lucky breaks; and everyone danced a fine line between hearts filling and hearts breaking.

Everyone stayed mad crazy busy and fought fought fought to achieve something nearing anything, just so they could sleep sound at night. Just so they could feel it had all been worth it. They all kept getting closer and closer to getting somewhere near where they thought their lives would be. But when they got closer, it hurt more when it turned to dust right in front of their eyes. 

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Writing

I was thinking about how much of it comes from the heart. How much of it comes from needing to express something.

And how much of it comes from that nagging voice inside that cries "write write write!" like a broken record.

I write an astonishing amount, you have no idea. I am always working on scripts, articles, blogs, short stories, humorous status updates, lengthy email rants, and whatever else comes up. It's a constant. I have a group of friends who receive mini-fictional things from me on a near daily basis. I know it's not my best material, but they're very polite about it.

It's weird because those who know me think I just joyfully whip these pieces out of nowhere, just for fun. But so much of it is anything but.

I am writing this close to midnight. So many of my blogs come not out of creativity, but out of a constant voice in me that yells "write damnit write!". It's a constant pressure that, after years of being tweaked and improved, is able to force pretty good material out of me.

But it's not my best. The best comes when I let go, when I get away from my brain, when I experience new things, when genuinely new and unexpected insight comes.

Of course, this is very rare. I get too caught up in being 'the writer' and forget to live.

More often than not, these days, I have to talk myself out of writing; I write outwardly like I take caffeine inwardly -- it's an addiction. I force it out. So often I'm ten pages into a script or two paragraphs into a blog without even realising I've started them. It's like brushing my teeth, it just happens.

In many ways this helps me succeed as a writer.. I've put the hours of practice in. I got good. I can create material quick.

But pushing too much makes me lose the passion, it zaps the fun out of it, makes it harder to find the innocence and life in my words. Ambition, drive, work-rate, they're all great, but they can be destructive too.

I don't sleep. So much of that is because I think I've wasted the day and not created a masterpiece. So I stay up hatching some plan, which of course turns out to be terrible, because I'm so worn out by my crazy brain which screams "write, write, write" every moment of every second.

It takes discipline to write but it also takes discipline to not write.

I just wanted to share a bit about my crazy writer's issues, I hope you found it interesting.

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Seven Pounds / Rails & Ties

It's impossible to just love the films you love. You think you do, but you don't, because there are constant reinforcements and demands placed on you from outside, from society, about what makes a good film. You spend most of your time watching the same crap that everyone else watches; and the questions are constantly demanded of you --- is 'The King's Speech' as great as they said? Is 'Pulp Fiction' a masterpiece? Is 'It's A Wonderful Life' a wonderful movie? 

There are some people who rebel against this. Spend their nights purposely watching Horror B-Movies, or obscure Japanese anime. But it's rarely organic, rarely just a natural interest -- more often, it's a reaction to everyone and everything else. There is a lot of watching films out of duty--- this gets even worse when you work in the industry; you watch 'The Artist' and 'Shame' regardless of whether they interest you. 

In the last two days I've watched "Rails & Ties", a small movie from 2007 starring Kevin Bacon and directed by Alison Eastwood, and I also re-watched "Seven Pounds" starring Will Smith, directed by Gabriele Muccino. 

I love both of these movies. They capture what I love about cinema. 

"Seven Pounds" made a lot of money, but it didn't win a lot of fans. The critics hated it and the public wanted the usual Will Smith they were getting accustomed to seeing every summer. This was not it. It was a risk, that didn't pay off critically, but it did artistically (in my opinion). 

"Rails & Ties" was Alison Eastwood's directorial debut, and yes; she is Clint's daughter. The film is about a train driver whose train collides with a car on the track; killing the woman in it. It was a suicide, but the question remained, could Tom (Kevin Bacon) have slowed down the train to avoid disaster? The woman's son Davey (Miles Heizer) certainly thought so -- and the 10 year old tracked down Tom to confront him about it. Tom's wife Megan (Marcia Gay Harden) is in the final stages of terminal cancer. It's a horrible situation for all; a boy with a dead Mother, a man with a dying wife, and the wife who never had a child, whose husband is pulling away from her. All of this is remarkably poignant. It's a film about three people for whom life has lost meaning. Through the unusual and bizarre circumstances, they find that they need each other. Tom and Megan begin caring for Davey, and hiding the fact from child services (because of course it would be illegal). 

The weirdest thing is that, as a viewer, we believe in what they're doing. It feels right, even though it's hugely against societal norms, and if we heard a case like this in real life, we'd demand they go to jail. That's the one great thing that movies teach us, we never know the real story, we never know people's true intentions, we just stick to societal rules and stereotypes. 

"Seven Pounds" is a beautiful and subtle movie, and shares some similarities with "Rails & Ties". Ben (Will Smith), like Tom, is responsible for some deaths (he got into a car accident while looking at his phone). He decides to heal this wrong by committing suicide, but in a way that helps save seven other lives with his extreme selfless generosity. It seems cheesy, preposterous; and, having seen all the critics reviews, perhaps it is, but it worked for me. 

It's so easy to moan about the film industry, about how good films don't get made any more. These films are evidence that this isn't true; because they're great movies. But then again, perhaps you think they're terrible movies -- which is an even more important answer. Because how can anyone try to make a great movie, when we all interpret them so differently? We all agree on "Casablanca" and "Shawshank Redemption", aside from those, it comes down to personal preference. 

My true honest preferences seem to be for subtle human stories that have integrity, authenticity, and heart, that average around 6.7/10 on IMDB. Can they make films for me? Not intentionally. 

You should watch "Rails & Ties". Even if you don't like it as much as I did, you'll see a great performance from Kevin Bacon. He has a knack for taking unusual and risky roles. I find him so much more interesting than the bigger box office draws. The film also has a wonderful and amazingly upbeat ending -- and it's all achieved by a few looks, a piece of music, and a final shot. Truthfulness and subtlety, such a rarity, but wonderful when you find it. 

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valentine

i have this problem
i like you
can't get it out of town
can't kick it out the way

i have this trouble
I want you
can feel it in the room
can see there's no way out
you can't really wanna know

-you could look right up at me
got nothing left to hide
just can't get it out my mouth
what you could mean to me

i have this worry
i miss you
can't give you a whole day
can't feel which way to go

i have this nightmare
i love you
can see it fall right through
can give it all away
you don't really wanna know

-you could look right up at me
got nothing left to hide
just can't get it out my mouth
what you could mean to me

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