Part 10

To: GlennTTTT

Fm: DriveBri

Subject: The art of writing — a craftsman’s perspective

Lazy Friday! Except for us writing stiffs, right amigo (friend)? Thanks for your suggestions about the main character in my screenplay! When you said my hero’s extraordinary abilities could be “fitting through narrow spaces” and being “able to get things off high shelves,” I was like, “whoa, is Glenn being sarcastic or has he completely lost it? Those aren’t extraordinary at all.” But then I was like, “hold up, Bri-cat, think about what he’s saying. You fit through narrow spaces, you get stuff off high shelves. Glenn is telling you your hero should be like you, i.e. (that is) write what you know.” Sage advice, roomie! I’ve actually written “write what you know” on a post-it note and stuck it to my computer screen for inspiration. I knew those couldn’t be real suggestions, anyway, because those specific abilities are things Mr. Fantastic already does.

Digression: What does Mr. Fantastic add to the FF (Fantastic Four)? You have a super strong guy, an invisible woman, and a flying human torch. Why do you need a stretchy guy? He’s a smart, cool-headed team leader, I’ll give you that. But his one big move is stretching across railroad tracks and stopping runaway trains. Do we even have runaway trains anymore? Come on!

Oh, you’ll be interested in this — I had a Nicole elevator sighting! I was standing in the back when she stepped on. Upping my game, I said, “Hey, small woman” (because she used to call me “Tall Man” back in the day) but the elevator was kinda crowded and I didn’t want to draw unwanted attention, so it was more like a whisper than something actually said. So I don’t think she heard, or if she did she didn’t respond. Still, really good first step.

Anyway, I was just tossing off a few hilarious tweets before getting down to work when the big boss called. That’s right, Kyle’s dad, Mr. Wicker. He was surprised when I told him Kyle wasn’t in the office today. And even though Kyle chaps me, I was trying to be a bro and cover, but Mr. Wicker has what I call a “quiet storm” phone manner, so I caved and told him the truth: that I’d given Kyle and A.J. the day off to go to the Wickers’ summer house. Mr. Wicker sounded annoyed, but after I laid out in some detail my theories on maintaining a good management vibe (casual attitude toward the work, with an emphasis on friendship and laughter), he just said “Oh” and hung up, so I think I mostly mollified him.

So, onward to the great screenplay, haha! Are you familiar with the “Save The Cat” screenwriting books? You must be. They have this formula that tells you the beats (story points) your movie has to have. Not that I want my screenplay to be formulaic, but it would be great if everything happened in a predictable pattern. And would it be so bad if it was formulaic? Isn’t water itself kind of a formula (H2O)?

And I’ve already come up with something big: I was looking out my window, trying to figure out my Opening Image. (The Opening Image is the first beat in the Save the Cat system — something that establishes the mood or theme of the main story. It’s pretty easy for me because I’m a very visual person. Interesting fact: as you may remember from Brandywine, I’ve never needed porn to masturbate because, speaking of superheroes, I am gifted with the ability to summon erotic images at will.) So I was looking out the window, when I thought, this would be a great Opening Image! A man, staring out the window, looking at life pass him by because he’s been abandoned by his friends (writing tip: at some point in the story, it’s important for someone to say to the main character, “Don’t you see, you’ve been abandoned by your friends?” Some of your the audience won’t get the theme and you have to tell it to them — they’re probably the same people who write us mean emails saying the puzzles are too hard).

But that’s when it hit me — I am my own Opening Image! I am the man looking out the window at life! I thought I was grabbing life by the balls, but I haven’t been grabbing anywhere near the balls! I really am writing what I know!

What a big-time connection — it just goes to show you that Art and Life really are two sides of a coin called Life. Well, not Life, because Life’s already on the coin, but maybe Existence. The totality of things as such. (Should that be my screenplay title? Probably too French-sounding for a domestic audience.) Wow. Writing is deep, Glenn, even the kind that you (and now me) do. I’m so blown away by this epiphany that — you guessed it — I’m hungry. Maybe one of the giant Fig Newtons from Kyle’s desk. Be right back to finish this email, then I’m buckling down again.

Bad news, Glenn. When I went into Kyle’s office for the snack, I accidentally knocked over his pencil sharpener thing (probably due to hypoglycemia, more evidence that I needed a cookie). Guess what? It’s actually a web camera! And it was on! Don’t jump to conclusions. Maybe it’s nothing.

— Bri

P.S. — It’s something. I googled the model of the camera, and it turns out it uploads its videos to the cloud, so it has footage of me riffling through Kyle’s desk, as well as me saying “Fuck” over and over again from the angle of the floor when I knocked it over and saw it was a camera. But thinking rationally, it’s not like Kyle’s going to come back to work on Monday and go through every second of footage of what he thinks is his empty office, right? And even if I’m “busted,” I’ll just say I was looking for a takeout menu, which he wouldn’t object to because, as he himself has stated, we are bros.

P.P.S I also googled runaway trains and apparently it happens fairly often. So a stretchy superhero does actually make a lot of sense.