Seeking: Writers for 7 part soap opera mini series script : Forum : Now what?


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Now what?

8 Years Ago




Now that we've joined the group, what do you need?
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Re: Now what?

8 Years Ago


Yeah, good question!
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Re: Now what?

8 Years Ago


Looks like 20 talented writers waiting for an organizing direction.  Maybe you want some resume or sample to narrow the field a little.  8-)
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Re: Now what?

7 Years Ago


Wow! I am sorry that I may have missed the opportunity to work on this with all of you! After recieving no response for some time I actually forgot about this and neglected to check it! I am so excited to realize an opportunity to continue this project, which I started quite a long time ago. I'm thrilled to hear back from all of you and see if you are still available.

I have two episodes finished and a layout of all the episodes, which is open to creative redirection from those that choose to come on board!

If you are still interested lets start by introducing ourselves here. Little about yourself, what your writing strengths and interests are, and perhaps share some of our work.

I will share the first script with you once we exchange email addresses!

So, I'm Tyler and I am from Detroit. I have lived here my entire life. I have a huge range of interests. I find all things and subjects have interest value and I explore all reaches of life with curiosity.

I wanted to write a soap opera because I have long been fascinated with them. As I watched over the years I was impressed by the writers who had to come up with such original content and characters, everyday, for decades and decades in some cases. It was such a complex storyline and they never failed to sensationalize. I have always wanted to create something, if even a fragment of,  these kinds of shows.

I can't wait to hear from you guys!!
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Re: Now what?

7 Years Ago


I'm Shawna, from Minnesota. 

What I view as my strengths in writing are internal conflict and interpersonal relationships. I have knowledge of psychology, which helps in those areas. I think I do better with strong, damaged, female characters, lol. I'll include a few snipets of stories I'm working on. 

Destiny Stones - 

"It was cold that night as the slight figure made its way down the street on the seedier side of the city. Only prostitutes and sociopaths were roaming the streets at this hour, but the figure with the dark hoodie pulled up covering its face, seemed at ease among such a crowd. With its hands jammed deeply into the frayed and ripping pockets of the baggy sweatshirt, the figure shouldered the door to enter a small pawn shop. In the shop was what you would expect from a pawn shop on this end of town, mostly broken down junk and ancient TV sets. But the figure knew that this particular shop dealt in something a little more lucrative… and though the goods brought tonight were too precious to be parted with… money meant food and survival.

Approaching the counter, the shopkeeper behind the counter eyeing the hooded figure, who barely reached his shoulders, with veiled disinterest. As the figure slowly withdrew one hand from its pockets, it presented on its palm three opaque white stones; the hand the stones laid on was almost painfully thin and too youthful looking to belong to someone who ventured these streets. “How much for these?” The figure asked from under the hood, its voice spoken low.The shopkeeper grasped at the stones, but the youthful hand closed and darted back into the saggy pocket, before he could snatch them. “Where did you get Destiny stones?” He asked. He could fetch an amazing price for those stones… from someone who knew how to use them.“That doesn’t matter. How much?” The figure had begun to back up toward the door, getting the feeling the shopkeeper wasn’t about to pay to possess the stones. As the man moved his bulking frame around the counter, the figure in the hoodie darted back out the door, just as the shopkeeper made a mad grab. Quickly, the slight figure darted through the gritty city streets to a small ramshackle house with shingles hanging haphazardly from their hinges and glass broken from their frames.


A Bard's Tale - 

"Offering a small smile, she took his hand and entwined her fingers through his.

“There is something I must show you, before we make any decisions,” she answered him. There was worry clearly evident on his face, and she did not want that, she only wanted him happy. He was so giving with his affection, with his love, and it was so new to her that it nearly made her tremble. She lifted his hand that she held and lightly brushed her lips to his knuckles. His hands were tanned and powerful, trained to hold the sword or bow for hours on end, trained to take the lives of men. But she didn’t see any of that anymore, she saw only that these were the hands that held her, healed her, and protected her… and they were infinitely precious to her.

“Come,” she said again, and led him out of the Throne Room, through the castle corridors to the back where she pushed open one heavy door to lead them out into the gardens.The gardens were painstakingly groomed and in doing so gave the obvious indication that they were formed by the hands of man. Though they were beautiful, and impressive to many in the multitude of carefully styled foliage and colors, she suspected they would not be what would catch his eye. Continuing on until she reached the back wall of the gardens, she trailed her hand that held the crown over the vine strewn walls as she walked. When her fingers brushed against the cold iron ring that she had been feeling for, she grasped it and looked to Sadon, hoping that these next moments would make him feel at home. 

The smile she gave him this time was uncertain, their futures hinging on if he could ever be happy with what she had to offer him. As she lifted and twisted the iron ring hidden under the dense vines, the door came ajar. Pushing it open and stepping through the hanging foliage, she kept her grip on Sadon’s hand, nervous for what was to come from this.She closed her eyes as she stepped through the vines, as she had always done since she was a child. When she felt the vines fall away from her face she opened her eyes, here was a different world from the too structured, too beautifully cultivated gardens. This world was wild and raw, the Sun breaking through the dense branches overhead in pinpoint rays, the smell of dirt, grass, and trees assaulting her senses. This place had always been her refuge when she needed to escape the castle, and now she was sharing it with the man she loved with all her soul. She turned back to him, her grin no longer nervous, and said, “This is called the King’s Wood.”


Redemption - 

As he began to scrub harshly at his skin, freeing himself of the dried Maccabean blood, Liora also disrobed and followed him into the water. Hesitantly, she approached him, his back to her, and ever so gently laid her palm on his shoulder.            

When he turned and took her in his arms his control snapped like a dried out twig. There was no gentleness in his touch as he crushed her to him, every muscle in his body rigid to the point of trembling, as all his terror, betrayal, fury, and hurt fought for dominion in his heart and mind.           

 Despite the roughness of his embrace, Liora drew him even closer. As though he were a small child, she cooed to him soothing endearments as she gently stroked his hair and down his shoulders.            

Whether it was her words, touch, or just him not being able to hold on any longer, Sebastien broke. With his control, emotions, and even rational thought splintered into fragmented pieces, he simply clung to her and sobbed in great heart-wrenching cries.           
As the rigidity seeped out of him, Liora guided him until his forehead was resting on her shoulder as she continued to stroke up and down his back. “That’s right;” she whispered softly, “let it go, let it out.”            

He shook his head, trying to stop, but now that the tidal wave was flowing he was powerless to make it cease. So Liora simply held him until after several long minutes his muscles started to relax and his cries softened to something between a hiccup and a whimper. Still she held him, knowing that he had to let this out or he would never heal from any of it. Keeping him safe was, of course, her top priority; but more and more it became apparent that helping him find a way to move past this trauma was equally as important.            

When finally he was able to raise his head from her shoulder, Liora read embarrassment on his face. That, she couldn’t allow. Reaching up, she cupped his jaw, her touch still gentle. “Bas, I love you. I doesn’t matter if you’re angry, sad, scared; I’ll still love you. You can show me any feeling and I can handle it.”            

“I don’t want you to have to see it,” he protested, his throat feeling raw and making his voice sound gravelly. “I don’t want you to ever look at me like they did.”           

“How is that?” She asked, her heart broken for the pain that was in his beautiful eyes, pain he had never deserved.            

“Like I’m worthless, weak…” he dropped his gaze down in shame, “…discardable.” His chin quivered for a second, but this time he pulled the emotion back in. “I feel damaged beyond repair. Why should anyone fight, get hurt, and possibly die to save me? I’m already lost; I was lost a long time ago, when I stopped fighting and instead started wishing for death. When they look at me like that they see the truth,” a tear slid down his cheek despite himself, “and I can’t argue with it. Because I know that I’m worthless, damaged and discardable.”            

“Sebastien,” Liora stated, her voice firm and resolute despite her own cheeks being wet with her tears, “you listen to me. There has never been a single breath that you have taken or fiber of your being that is worthless, weak or discardable. Those damned creatures are the things that are worthless and weak! As for my people, they are fools. They’re stuck in their mindsets and can’t pull their heads out of their back ends long enough to see past that! What are in their eyes when they look at you are their own fears, insecurities, and prejudices, none of which reflect upon you.” Again, she softened as she approached her next point, but first she drew him back down to her until his forehead rested against hers. “As for being damaged, my love, you were hurt, torture, and anyone would feel damaged by that. But it will pass, Sebastien, and you will heal, I promise you. You don’t have to do it alone, I will always be here for you, and I will always fight for you. I do know the truth that no one can argue with-not even you. I know that you are the strongest, bravest, most forgiving and compassionate person that I have ever known. You are more than worth any fight or sacrifice that needs to be made. Furthermore, I love you with my whole self, my whole being, and there is nothing you or anybody else can do or say that would shake me from that.”            

Sebastien stilled, his embrace softening, but he had no words for her. What words could he have for a declaration like that? He didn’t understand it and he never had.