Rotoscopers: Introducing the Indie Film Series!

A blurb about the new series I’m directing for Rotoscopers.com:

Studios like Disney and DreamWorks get a lot of attention (and deservedly so, for the most part), but there is a whole world of animation outside of the main American studio system. With this series, we aim to introduce dozens of wonderful films that easily deserve a place next to classics like The Lion King or Toy Story.

Starting this Friday, we’ll be featuring a different independent animated film every weekend. Tune in and watch with us as we review and discuss independent animation, from Akira to Balto to 9 and even to the Barbie movies…

Read more on Rotoscopers.com!

Prompt Updates – January 28th

Longtime MSM Pinterest followers will know that not all the prompts on Bits & Baubles or Bits and Baubles, Part 2, have a written blurb with them – not yet, anyway. I’m working through every one of the over 800 blurbs and regularly updating some with their own written blurbs.

Here are the most recent updates:

Bauble #44:

She stepped past the curtains, leaving her purse and coat backstage, and discovering an ingrained world on the old stage. When she looked back, there was nothing, nothing but more of the world she stepped into.

Bauble #45:

He contorted any and each way he could, the rock face scraping unforgivingly against his back and chest. He was cold, he was hungry, but he was determined not to get stuck.

Bauble #46:

“Maybe it’s because I’m so sweet.” Their soft wings fluttered over her face and gentle hand.
“Do lots of people say you’re sweet?”
She shook her head: “I just know I am.”

Bauble #48:

He didn’t trust the words. Too many people repeated them and believed them; his gut told him something was wrong. He would repeat them, but only while he tried to find out what they really meant.

Bauble #49:

She leaned out the door, checking that the coast was clear before stepping out at all. It was a risk, she knew, but she couldn’t go through with what her advisors wanted until she’d spoken to… The leaves crunches under her feet, her ears hypersensitive to the noise, and her heart pounding out of her chest as she hurried further away.

Bauble #51:

I wanted to scream and throw things and run out of the room. But I laughed instead. I couldn’t help it. Suddenly I could breathe enough to laugh, even though I was shaking, shaking with fear that it wasn’t true. He was dead. I was free. Could it really be?

Bauble #52:

“We know our fight.”
“All you’ve done is go out and kill people; that’s not our fight, that’s murder.”

Bauble #53:

She stepped tentatively into the water, its deep blue rippling around her ankles. Her skin shimmered as the water settled again. She thought to swim, but at that moment she dared not shatter the peace.

Bauble #56:

“I think you’re an ass.”
“Never mind, he’s fine.”
“Fuck you.”
“Wow. So mature. And here I am trying to help you.”
“Yeah? Well, you can shove your help right up your…”
“Alright, alright, I’m going.”

 

Stay tuned for more at the My Storytelling Mind Pinterest!

Plotless Blurbs – December 2017

“Through my kaleidoscope I can see next-door neighbors in next-door worlds and pretend they can see me, too. The next-door neighbors live like us and talk like us and feel like us, but they don’t act like us or look like us or think like us. If a grown-up saw my next-door neighbors in their next-door world, instead of a handshake held out, there’d be a nickname called out.”

_________________

“You can’t fan the heat of problems; they boil and bubble and burn. The only way to stop the pot from boiling over is to take away the fire.”

_________________

“When the stars have sparkled their last and the dance has come to its final note, will you love me enough to remind me what I’ve lost?”

_________________

“The mermaids murmur, the fairies flutter, the trees tell the tale of the princess who rides the Sun-laid path. She takes her rest upon the river bank, with naiad maids, and takes the Sun’s embrace. For when the Sun reminds you of dandelions and the rays leave stars in your eyes, is it not better to swim and be enveloped in the warmth than to walk upon it and forget the feeling beneath your toes?”

_________________

“Burst forth, new life, for I am the Sun and the Moon, the giver and the keeper of life, the beginning and ending of all things, she to whom the green of Earth bends to meet, and I command thee, burst forth!”

_________________

“The bouquet of the day, plucked from the fields before the woods, lay upon the wooden floor, its summer magic disappeared among the petals and fallen buds”

_________________

“Flower green upon the bank, why do your leaves grow gray? The sun above, it’s rays shine bright, and yet your petals fray.”

_________________

“Can you see the nymphs laughing? Can you see them as they smile? Can you see them, little groundling? Can you see their wit and guile?”

_________________

“Though she watches, and she smiles upon those who hope; though she watches from above, she cannot take part.”

_________________

“To pass through their world, the old man said, the curtain must be lifted from your eyes … The curtain, the curtain, it hides the magnificent truth that magic is always in front of you – hiding, waiting, watching. Are you worth lifting that heavy veil?”

_________________

“When the sun is high and the breeze is low, the trees can whisper and giggle and glow. If your quill is quick and your mind open, the stories will flutter onto the page through the ink onto the parchment.”

Excerpt: ‘The Lessons We Should Learn From Dead Men’

When the fog rolls in across the bay, and you can hardly see your hand in front of your face, the saddened and desperate multiply in the darkness. The bridge, scarlet arches of golden opportunity, is there to welcome those who have shut the doors to any other option. Once there, the air is suffocatingly fresh and the only reminder of the ocean below is the crashing of the waves. You can stand there all night, surrounded by fog and dark thoughts, as I once did, and you can even gaze around in the faint hope that someone will see you, ask you what you’re doing, try to stop you. But, rather than spotting a guardian angel, I saw only another man, a man whose face resembled my own in its desperation and hopelessness. Perhaps that is why I hesitated my own destruction; his somehow seemed so much more urgent to stop.

I was running before I knew that I had moved, and shouting before I wanted my mouth to open. He jumped with more conviction than I ever could have felt, staring into a whirling abyss below. The tail of his coat and the hat from his head were the last of him swallowed by the great cloud of white fog. In all probability, I was the only one who saw him that night, the only one who would know about the missing man that would be advertised for in the papers in the following week, and the only one who would know exactly why. I didn’t know the man. I had no idea who he was, and I hadn’t seen his face properly either. What I had seen of him would burn in my brain for the rest of my life, as it burned against the back of my eyelids then, a repeating scene.

I stood there for maybe another hour, glancing every few minutes at headlights speeding by, foolishly considering forcing one to stop. That wouldn’t do. Instead, I paced, hands in pockets, taking only a few steps before kicking something solid. It wasn’t part of the bridge – my foot would have known immediately. No, this was something smaller, sized conveniently for a gentleman’s coat pocket. A small notebook it was and it teetered dangerously at the edge of a similar doom to its presumed original owner. Taking a step back, I knelt down, picked it up, and turned it once over in my hand. Another glance into the white, billowing ravine below told me it was time to go home, no matter how much my curiosity bribed me to sit down then and there, and read a dead man’s notebook.

(more…)

Day One: A Brain Outlet

I have never been one for diaries or journals, despite the near-constant narration my mind supplies throughout my daily life. Whether I’m making a mental checklist, writing out a vignette from my day, or putting together little blurbs inspired by people, words, and scenes I witness in everyday life, words are my consistent companion.

I may not keep a diary, but you can bet I have a generous stock of notebooks. And I will probably buy more soon. Sometimes my train of thought switches track too quickly for a pencil; notebooks are my sidekick while I travel or while I’m drafting or while I’m writing lists. Even if your main writing medium is technological, as mine is, notebooks can serve as a fine outlet to scribble the mess of thoughts your mind keeps creating. Then you can digitize those scribbles as you decipher them.

There’s little doubt that we wordsmiths need a brain outlet, especially when between projects or struggling to start a new one. Here will be an amalgamation of writerly brain food – research, prompts, writing, creating, editing, little procrastinations, and many other creative stimuli. Most of all, My Storytelling Mind will be a writer’s resource, meant to both motivate and listen. Use the site purely for inspiration or information, or get involved in the conversation. Either way, MSM is here to support your creativity, your writing, and your imagination.

Stay tuned for daily prompts, world-building tips, inspirational posts, various research topics, and tricks to perfect your writing process.

Welcome to My Storytelling Mind!

DreamWorks Animation Countdown 6: ‘Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron’

This article was originally published on Rotoscopers.com

*Disclaimer: Spoilers ahead.*

The tale of a mustang in the days of the Old West, when great herds of buffalo still roamed the plains and the railroad was growing, Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron faces westward expansion from the perspective of a wild horse. A steady story, with strong animation and enveloping music, this film takes on animal characters and plot without excessive anthropomorphism, dumbing down, or unnecessary comic relief.

Released on the 24th of May, 2002, Spirit was written by John Fusco (Hidalgo), directed by Kelly Asbury (the Shrek franchise) and Lorna Cook, and starred Matt Damon as Spirit’s narrative voice, James Cromwell as the Colonel, and Daniel Studi as Little Creek.

The Story

John Fusco was hired to write a screenplay based on an idea from Jeffrey Katzenberg; Fusco took the project very seriously. First, he wrote a novel for Spirit‘s story, and then adapted his own work into a screenplay for the film. In a way, that explains the film’s flow, built atop fully detailed prose rather than starting from storyboards and screenplay.

Although written with the added appeal of minimal dialogue, Spirit’s own narrative voiceover remains a constant through the film, initially welcome but sometimes unnecessary. The story is simple enough and visual enough to keep the viewer informed and intrigued. The viewer watches Spirit travel from his own gorgeous homeland to a military outpost to a Lakota village to the expanding railroad construction. It’s a grand Western adventure in every sense, except that there’s nary a cowboy in sight…

Read more on Rotoscopers.com

DreamWorks Animation Countdown 2: ‘The Prince of Egypt’

This article was originally published on Rotoscopers.com

Jeffrey Katzenberg, co-founder of DreamWorks Animation, often suggested an animated adaptation of 1956’s The Ten Commandments while still working at Disney; although Disney CEO Michael Eisner dismissed the idea, fellow DreamWorks co-founder Steven Spielberg suggested it as DreamWorks Animation’s inaugural film. Even though it was usurped by Antz, which was rushed into theaters to compete with Pixar’s A Bug’s Life, The Prince of Egypt still made it to theaters in time for the 1998 holiday season.

Directed by Brenda Chapman (Brave), Steve Hickner (Bee Movie), and Simon Wells (Balto, Mars Needs Moms), the animated take on the story of Moses and the Hebrews of Egypt featured a star-studded cast, an extremely dedicated production team, and the musical genius of Hans Zimmer and Stephen Schwartz (The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Wicked) together.

“The motion picture you are about to see is an adaptation of the Exodus story.
While artistic and historical license has been taken, we believe that this film is true to the essence, values and integrity of a story that is a cornerstone of faith for millions of people worldwide.
The biblical story of Moses can be found in the book of Exodus.”

The black screen and opening text, accompanied by Hans Zimmer’s beautiful opening score, is a soft prelude to a harsh opening scene, featuring hundreds of slaves working under brutal conditions.

Schwartz’s compelling “Deliver Us” rises with the brutality as we witness the Egyptian soldiers forcibly removing Hebrew babies from their homes.

But still a moment of softness: Yocheved sings her last lullaby to the baby Moses as she sets him afloat along the river to save his life.

For an animated film to take on such real and harsh human experiences is unusual within itself; but The Prince of Egypt does so almost unflinchingly, without extra sugarcoating or condescension toward the presumably, and largely, youthful audience…

Read more on Rotoscopers.com

Excerpt: ‘Wiffen’s Antiques’

“Hello?” The antique shop, tables strewn with papers and shelves brimming with long-forgotten memorabilia, seemed empty. The strong scent of pipe tobacco mingled with the general scent of age. I held up a large pile of letters. “I have your mail here.”

A young man – a man too young to work in such a shop – popped up from behind what I assumed to be the checkout desk. He adjusted his rectangular glasses but left his messy hair the way it was. His eyes narrowed as he finally focused on me, the mailman holding up a stack of bills with a nervous grin on his face. He suddenly seemed incredibly worried, as if I was somehow all wrong and should be ashamed to be so.

“You’re not Quincy,” he said, making his way out of behind the desk. He pushed aside several piles of disorganized items with his feet, in an agitated state. “Where is Quincy?”

“I… don’t really know,” I replied as he finally reached me. He raised an eyebrow and I took a small step back. He blinked a couple of times and then simply took the mail. “I’ll just… see myself out, then.”

He waved a dismissal as he wove through the piles back to the desk, sorting through the letters one by one. I turned to go, glancing around again at the full shelves. Behind a small tin robot, tucked under a monogrammed lunch pail, a small golden badge stuck out. I gently tugged it, after a cautionary glance at the interesting store owner who was mumbling over a bill he had opened, and revealed a small key. The badge, upon squinting inspection, was engraved with the number 210.

(more…)

Excerpt: ‘Gone On Impact’

It’s not easy being a lamppost. All I do is carry the current, wake up the light bulb, and make him hold the current. Technically, he does most of the work. I just make sure he wakes up for the night shift.

It gets lonely, though. I sleep during the day and then work at night but Bulb doesn’t talk all that much and neither do the Traffic Lights. I wouldn’t want to talk to them anyway. If you’ve ever tried talking to a Traffic Light, you know how the conversation goes.

“Red?” I’ll say.
“Yeah, what? STOP!” Red will shout.
“What?”
“No, not you. What were you saying?”
“I just– ”
“GO!” Green will shout.
“What?”
“No, not you,” Green will respond.
“What were you saying, again?” Red will say.
“SLOW!” Yellow will shout.
“What?”
“Not you!” they’ll shout.
“Oh.” Yeah.

The cars passing by might say a few words, but altogether not that much happens. While they don’t say much to me, they say a lot to each other. For example, a Ferrari and a Thunderbird once had a discussion about their exhaust systems.

“I swear, mine’s been tootin’ somethin’ fierce! And my driver doesn’t seem all that worried,” said the Thunderbird, as Red screams, “STOP!”

“I know what you mean. My driver is always taking me to Al’s Mechanics. They must be completely understaffed there. I didn’t get any service for 3 hours and when I did get service, it was horrible. They don’t even wear gloves!” exclaimed the Ferrari.

“I know! I feel so violated.”

“I’ll see you later. I’m turning here.”

“Bye, Ferr, always a pleasure!”

That or they talk to their drivers. Once, a Honda CRV spent the whole 3 minutes of a red light complaining to their driver. “You don’t even pay attention, do you? You almost made me hit a squirrel back there! We could have driven off the road into that ditch! But I bet you didn’t even see that ditch, did you? Oh no, you just kept drivin’ with your shades and your rock n roll blasting out my stereo system. You know, I do have ears and it hurts just as much when you blast it! Hey, bimbo! It’s green, in case you care. Oh, now you move, when it’s yellow. How did you pass your driving exam?”

You would think that the cars would have realized by now that the humans don’t understand…

 

Thank you for reading this excerpt of my short story, ‘Gone On Impact’

D23 Expo 2017: ‘The Power of the Princess’

This article was originally published on Rotoscopers.com

Opening with a #DreamBigPrincess homage video, featuring everyday princesses from around the globe, the Power of the Princess panel already tugged at the audience’s nostalgia-coated heartstrings.

Hosted by animators Kira Lehtomaki (co-head of animation, Wreck-It Ralph 2) and Amy Smeed (co-head of animation, Moana), the panel starred four of Disney’s most beloved princesses:

Auli’i Cravalho, the 16-year-old voice of Moana, was introduced with heavy applause and waved excitedly to the audience.
Anika Noni Rose, the voice of Princess Tiana, came out to thunderous cheers.
Paige O’Hara, voice of Princess Belle, brought several members of the audience to their feet with applause and cheers.
Jodi Benson, voice of Princess Ariel, was greeted with a near-standing ovation and several shouts of “I love you, Jodi!” to all of which she returned her affection…

Read more on Rotoscopers.com