#screenwriting online class

[seilon]

why does my local city college have so many more course/program options than my local state college this fucking Sucks

[luminalunii97]

saying F U to the regime again and again: a quick update on women vs IR regime

Famous Iranian actresses have been appearing in public without a mandatory hijab. This has been happening since the beginning of the protests. Last month, Kiumars Pourahmad, a well known Iranian screenwriter and director, committed suicide. He had a history of criticizing the regime's political decisions. At his funeral, some of the famous actresses attended without mandatory hijab.

You can see Fateme Motamedarya, Katayoun Riyahi, and Golab Adineh in these pictures from the funeral. Ms. Riyahi was one of the first celebrities who took her hijab off at the start of the Jina (Mahsa) Amini protest and for that she's been the target of IRGC harassment and has been to court.

Last week, in the ceremony of screening of the final episode of Lion's Skin (a persian crime show), actress Pantea Bahram participated without hijab. The manager of Tehran’s Lotus Cinema, where the ceremony was held, was fired for letting her attend without hijab.

Other than prosecution, the regime has blocked these celebrities' bank accounts. Basij and IRGC members have also attacked and harassed these women online and in real life.

Students on university campuses take off their hijabs. There's an installed version of morality police in universities that monitor students' styles. Female students must wear "appropriate" hijab and male students must wear "manly" clothes (one of my guy friends once was asked to go back home and change his shoes because they were red casual loafers. Apparently that's gay!). When you enroll in Iranian universities, the first thing you do is to go to the security office and sign an agreement that says you promise to follow the Islamic dress code. There are posters all over the campus that says things like "hijab is security" "respect the islamic hijab" and "not wearing appropriate hijab (tight short clothes, too much hair, makeup, etc) would result in legal action". So not wearing hijab on campus, where a lot of security cameras are installed and it's easy to identify you, is a big deal.

The regime's response to students taking off their hijabs is sending threatening messages to students' phones and increasing the security people. At the entrance of Universities, these security forces check people's clothes and if it's not proper they won't let you in. Some of the students wear the hijab at the entrance and take it off after they're in. They have warned our professors to not let non hijabi students sit in classes too.

One of my favorite trends in Iran now is when guys wear our hijab. These pictures are from universities. Guys wearing hijab make the security mad. This is a great act of solidarity with women against the obligatory hijab.

Some men have been doing either this or wearing shorts in public. The former is to ridicule the obligatory dress code and the latter is because wearing shorts in public is forbidden for guys too.

And women not wearing hijab in general. Though hijab is not our only issue, we want a whole new political system, one that is not theocratic or terroristic, hijab is something the regime won't back down from because it's one of their strongest oppressing tools. If they let us win the fight against obligatory hijab, I quote from a regime head, "people keep demanding more changes"!

So to put people against people to enforce the hijab law again, the regime has closed down many businesses (hotels, cafes, malls, bookstores, etc) for welcoming non hijabi female costumers. They have also warned taxi and bus drivers to not let non hijabi women in their vehicles.

Although not everyone is disobeying the hijab law (some believe in hijab, some don't want to pay the price), the number of women who take the risk and don't wear hijab in Tehran and many other cities is high enough that you feel encouraged to keep doing it.

[anhed-nia]

NEXT WEEK on 11/19, The Miskatonic Institute of Horror Studies has an online class I am especially pleased to host! Dr. Anne Young explores the largely unsung legacy of Daria Nicolodi, and discusses the negating effect of male auteur worship on women's creative work. For years there has been a sort of floating awareness that Nicolodi was much more than "Argento's muse" but it is still rare that anyone digs into this topic in serious detail. Don't miss your chance to learn about Daria Nicolodi's contributions to Italian horror cinema, the devaluation of women's labor in general, and the possibilities for reclamation.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Any advice for those of us looking for supportive friends who also share our love for words and passion for writing? Perhaps online avenues/ (active) writing groups or ways to go about searching for local events or workshops in our communities? ♥️

(First off, love your writing!)

I did a bit of digging on this, and for the most part, it's online writing communities that seem to be frequently suggested. Other than going the university/local community route, which would vary depending on where we live.

Since I can't give you any good advice on this, here are a few tips I found online for finding a writing group:

Find a local writing group near you. Visit a nearby community center. They offer different types of gatherings and courses and might have a writing workshop or group that’s taking new members. Also, check the listings at your local library where people often gather for literary talks or groups. In general, writing groups have a set time and day that they meet. For example, some clubs might meet every second Tuesday of the month. Find a writers workshop that fits your schedule.

Go on a writing retreat. Unlike most other writing groups, going on a writer’s retreat will cost money and is usually a destination event. It’s a writing-intensive place where people go to dedicate all of their time to writing and to connect with other writers. If you have some time to get away, find a writing retreat where you can dedicate a week or more to just writing.

Join different writers’ associations. There are a variety of writer’s associations with local chapters. Connect with an association like National Novel Writing Month—NaNoWriMo—which has group meetups at local libraries. You can also find a writing group by genre, like Romance Writers of America or Mystery Writers of America. Whether you’re in New York City or Milwaukee, you can also find indie writing groups by location. For example, in Los Angeles, there is the Independent Writers of Southern California, which offers workshops, classes, lectures, and writing groups.

Look online. In this day and age, finding a writing group is as easy as searching online. Search for a meetup group near you with other area writers. Narrow your search by genre if you want to commune with writers who have a similar passion. There are groups for authors of every genre.

Find online writing groups. If you’d rather find a virtual group of writers to work with, look online. Here's a list of writing community websites recommended by Writer's Digest.

Start your own writer’s group. If you’re having a hard time finding a community, start your own creative writing group. Recruit other local writers by posting a note at a coffee shop or library, asking members of your book club to join, or posting on social media. One advantage of starting your own group is you can make it what you want. For example, you can start a general writing group that welcomes all writers, like screenwriters, sci-fi writers, fiction writers, and nonfiction writers, or you can keep it to a specific genre. Build your own community, pick a day, find a location, and start realizing the benefits of being a part of a writing group.

Sources: 1 2 3

Hope this helps. But I feel I'm the wrong person for this question. So if anyone has better suggestions, please let us know!

[writergeekrhw]

hi!! i'm sorry if you've gotten similar questions before, but i'm very curious. i've thought about going into writing for television but i don't know where to start, and i also don't want to cross picket lines/scab. do you have any advice?

Well, picket lines aren't a problem anymore, so...

Learn - Watch your favorite shows and movies. Break them down into structure. You can outline as you watch. Scene, Time of Day, Actions, Who Says What. Read great books, consider taking a class on TV writing at someplace reputable online (UCLA Extension is really good). Read about basic screenplay structure and format.

Write - Write the following: 2 spec pilots, 1 episode of an established show that's currently on the air. Maybe a feature. (You probably should buy Final Draft at this point)

Apply for programs: There are studio writing programs that train writers. Getting into one of these can definitely help. Here's a list: Fellowship & Writing Programs for Screenwriters Masterlist — The Writers Guild Foundation (wgfoundation.org)

Keep writing. I had a teacher tell me it took 10 scripts to get good. Have you written 10 full scripts? If no, keep writing. If yes, keep writing.

Consider moving to Los Angeles. Los Angeles is where you can get work as a Writers P.A. or Assistant. That's how you'll get to know writers. It's much harder to do that if you're not in L.A. But also keep in mind that Los Angeles is a very expensive city and you'll probably have to work a civilian job to survive until you get a showbiz one and that it can cost $1500/month just for a room in a shared apartment. So... consider...

Network with peers. Network with fellow aspiring writers you meet in your classes/online/etc. Join a writers group. Be a great person. Help each other. Hopefully you and your peers will all rise together and you'll be able to help each other out once you start getting jobs.

Keep writing. Never stop writing new things.

Rise through the ranks. Hopefully you'll get a Writers P.A. job at some point. Be a good person. Work hard. Make a good impression. Get promoted to either Writers Room Assistant or Showrunner's Assistant. Have a show that goes multiple years. Have your boss (eventually, don't rush it) read your amazing sample which she'll hopefully love. Get a script assignment in a later season. Write an amazing script. Have show go ANOTHER season, get promoted to Staff Writer. CONGRATULATIONS! You've made it.

Keep going. You need to continue to get promoted and staffed for multiple seasons to have a stable career and even then, it'll never stop being a hustle.

ALTERNATIVE PATH: Write the most amazing novel/play/youtube thing/graphic novel/podcast ever and have that optioned into a series and insist on being on staff as a condition of sale.

WARNING: Results are not guaranteed. The odds are NOT in your favor. Try at own risk. Los Angeles is expensive and breaks people. It can take 5-10 years from first script to first job. Or never. Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here. Objects in the Rearview Mirror are Farther Away Than They Appear. Read about Survivorship Bias before taking any showbiz advice from anyone.

[haggishlyhagging]

“Women rise to [feminist] fame not because they are lauded as leaders by other feminists ... but because the mainstream media sees in them a marketable image a newsworthy persona upon whom can be projected all sorts of anxieties, hopes, and responsibilities,” wrote Rachel Fudge in a 2003 essay on the struggle to reconcile activism and renown. This is important, both as it relates to feminism's past and to its improbable embrace by mainstream American pop culture. On one hand, social movements need the diplomacy and charisma of people who can speak and agitate on behalf of them. On the other, the need to distill complex ideas and goals down to their most simple and quotable talking points has unquestionably done harm to those movements, feminism included. Mainstream attention has oversimplifed complex issues the wage gap, the beauty myth, the debate over decriminalizing sex work and misrepresented goals. It has attributed collective successes to one person and minimized the plurality of feminist movements themselves. And it has turned countless would-be colleagues and compatriots into foes scrapping over crumbs of access and affirmation.

Jo Freeman's Ms. article "Trashing: The Dark Side of Sisterhood" still regularly makes its way from inbox to inbox because the anguish with which it articulates the process of being sidelined, gaslighted, and shunned—all in the name of sisterhood—is still so relevant. Freeman defined trashing as something that often masquerades as critique but is wholly different: "a particularly vicious form of character assassination" that "is not done to expose disagreements or resolve differences" but "to disparage and destroy." After its publication in 1976, the piece garnered more letters than any previous piece in Ms.—"all but a few," notes the essay's current preface, "relating [the writers'] own experience of being trashed." Formerly a member of the Chicago branch of radical feminists, Freeman left the movement completely after her deflating experiences. But two of her essays, "Trashing" and "The Tyranny of Structurelessness"—the latter an outline of the idealistic, leaderless context in which trashing often occurs—still put words to ongoing phenomena.

Individual feminists are used to being insulted and bullied by people who bear an inventory of beefs with feminists in general, especially these days, and inevitably online. Trashing or its contemporary cousin, "calling out," is different and usually a lot more painful because it comes from fellow feminists. Thanks in part to social media, trashings have become more public and more frequent with participants, as feminist sociologist Katherine Cross put it, "hyper-vigilant against sin, great or small, past or present." It's possible for trashings to start out with a core of completely valid critique but spiral outward into chaos as more people pile on and context is diffused. Some are way pettier: I was once informed that I was being trashed on an online bulletin board because I hadn't posed an apparently crucial question to a screenwriter I'd profiled. Trashings might be focused on an ideal of ideological purity: "careerist," for instance, is a sneer aimed at feminists who have the temerity to want to be known (or at least paid) for their work. Other trashings might result from an opinion that's unforgivably at odds with current feminist orthodoxy.

The competitiveness that leads to trashing obviously isn't unique to feminist movements, but as many people have pointed out over the years, it's likely to thrive within them because so many women, across ages and races and classes, are socialized to see themselves as connectors and uniters rather than experts and leaders; it's even more likely to fester because of the unmended rifts of past feminist movements. The incendiary tone of trashing is also heightened because the line between one's activism and identity is often as substantive as a vapor trail; trashing someone's work becomes indistinguishable from trashing the person themselves.

-Andi Zeisler, We Were Feminists Once

[gornackeaterofworlds]

❤️💛🩷🎧🔐🖇️⭐️ for the ask game!!!

❤️ how tall are you?

4'10 and three quarters, last I was measured

💛 what is your favorite feature on yourself?

Hmmmng. I hate sucking my own cock here.. My eyes, thick hair, or fat ass ☝️

🩷 dream job?

Doing my drawings and writing for a living. I wanna be a screenwriter or creative director !!!!!!!!! Sigh

🎧 last song you listened to

Done For from Epic, I've been listening to it all day bc it connects so well to a Butterfly Effect plot point in my head

🔐 something no one would guess about you

Idk what y'all think about me to begin with. When I know that I can answer ig. But otherwise, people seem to be surprised I draw on my phone? That's all I got unless I know people's opinions

🖇️ what are your favorite asks to answer

Any of them. Especially ur asks. I barely get asks. I crave asks about my work

⭐️ what is one of your biggest accomplishments? Why is it so important to you?

See, that's tough when ur a loser who hasn't done anything. I genuinely haven't done anything. I'm surprised I even graduated online class, that's how abysmal my life had been going. And it's still pretty bad, I'm unemployed with not even a bank card or license.

All I got, after a lot of thinking, is the fact I'd pulled myself out of my depression, albeit briefly. I was disgustingly struggling for years from lockdowns up until late 2022. Then I got my cats, and started growing tomatoes, and I actually had to pick my ass up out of bed and care for creatures. Up until last summer when we had to move and I am now homeless, I was getting better mentally. At least, in comparison to how I'd been. Found out a lot about myself, like how I need privacy and a lot of irl solitude to function and be productive, and I love waking up super early.

But actual achievements? Y'know I think the surprise question is answered with this: I'm fucking boring

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Act 13: Budding Spring - Episode 15: Ketchuped Thoroughly

Employee A: I apologize for the inconvenience.

Employee A: We are doing relatively well in English-speaking countries and Asia, but this region is difficult and not a lot of people within the company can help…

Employee A: I’m considering out-sourcing, but I have yet to receive approval. Please at least correct the parts that don’t make sense through machine translation.

Chikage: I can do this much quickly, it’s alright.

Chikage: …

[Keyboard keys clicking]

Chikage: (Is this the last one?)

Chikage: — —

Chikage: (... Same last name? I’m starting to develop a bad habit of reacting on reflex.)

-

Tsumugi: It’s been a while since the voting period started, but the notifications for debut performances don’t seem to be letting up.

Kazunari: There are still a lot of announcements about new theater companies being formed and member recruitments~

Kumon: Oh yeah. A kid in my class also said they wanted to try acting.

Tsumugi: As more people are exposed to theater, more of them want to try it out.

Tenma: And because of the SNS voting, more and more companies are focused on online distribution.

Omi: While working on a photoshoot the other day, I met someone who works in the video industry, and they said they suddenly got a lot busier.

Yuki: There’s also comments from overseas on online reviews.

Tasuku: As they said in the press conference, the New Fleur Award is revitalizing the world of theater.

Azuma: That’s amazing, considering it’s only just begun.

Sakyo: Yukio-san’s the kind of person to be smack-dab in the eye of the storm when it comes to theater. 

Guy: He has gotten busier as the award gains more attention. He has been doing a lot of interviews together with Kamikizaka.

Sakyo: Well, I’m sure Reni-san’s handling that part just fine.

Yuki: The reviews on En.com are also increasingly rapidly, but there’s a lot of bad ones.

Yuki: Even plays by famous troupes and screenwriters have comments like, “They spoke too fast, and I didn’t understand a thing, the costumes were cute tho”.

Yuki: There’s also, “I didn’t understand why, but they suddenly broke into contemporary dance. It was interesting overall, however.”.

Azami: Honest but harsh, huh.

Sakyo: They probably don’t understand the artistic beauty of theater and are just sharing their first impressions of it.

Tsuzuru: They’re interesting to read, but it’s scary to think how that might be us next time.

Sakuya: I wonder what they’ll say about us…

Izumi: Don’t think about it so much and get discouraged. We’ll be fine if we do things as we usually do.

Itaru: Tru. If we worry about it too much and worry our fans, we’ll be putting the cart before the horse.

Yuki: It’d be a good idea to keep review checking in moderation.

-

Yuzo: Good morning.

Tsuzuru: Good morning.

Sakuya: Good morning! Thank you for today!

Izumi: Sorry for calling you here when you’re also busy with your own troupe.

Yuzo: I don’t mind.

Itaru: Have you thought of any strat for the New Fleur Award, Yuzo-san?

Yuzo: We’re just gonna do what we usually do. The pre-voting stung, though.

Izumi: MANKAI Company came up 70th.

Yuzo: We got 103rd.

Sakuya: Lower than us!?

Tsuzuru: Even though you sell out all your tickets and have a loyal following…

Yuzo: Most of our fans are pretty old.

Yuzo: There’s probably people who didn’t know about the pre-voting, or they just didn’t know how to participate.

Yuzo: It seems like it’ll be an uphill battle, but all we can do is be ourselves.

Yuzo: Well, this round ain’t over. We’ll go at our own pace, with no rush.

Yuzo: Still, Yukio-san threw a curveball at us like he always does. I’m always amazed at what he can come up with.

Izumi: Haha… You can say that again.

Yuzo: Alright. If you’ve finished getting ready, let’s start.

Sakuya: Yes! Thank you very much!

-

Yuzo: …

Izumi: What do you think…?

Izumi: (It’s been a while since I last felt this nervous…)

Yuzo: Hah… As rough as ever.

Yuzo: Since it’s a sequel to your debut performance, your interpretation of your characters is good. What you’re lacking on is spirit.

Yuzo: And Tsuzuru, you’ve still got your doubts about the script, so you can’t concentrate on acting it out, yeah?

Tsuzuru: … Yes.

Yuzo: The rest of you guys are too caught up in wanting to put on a good show in order to produce good results for the ranking.

Yuzo: Having to put on a good performance is common sense. I’m sure you guys understand that by now.

Yuzo: So, you need to think about what you want to convey and achieve through this performance on top of that.

Yuzo: Do you want a better place in the rankings, or do you want to show how much you’ve grown…

Sakuya: — —

Yuzo: It’s not a bad thing to want the audience’s reception to be positive, obviously. But if that’s all you’re aiming for, then this is all just a way to earn points.

Yuzo: All your thoughts will be things like, “if we do this we’ll get more popular and get more points” and “if we do that we’ll get extra points”. But what we’re doing here is theater, not a competition.

Yuzo: What is you guys’, what is the Spring Troupe’s acting all about? Who are you doing it for? For what purpose?

Yuzo: You’re doing a sequel for your debut play. What did that debut mean to you guys?

Yuzo: If you’re going to go through with this, wouldn’t it be a good idea to discuss and re-evaluate your origins?

Yuzo: …Heh, but do so with some self-discipline, yeah?

Izumi: (I wonder if Yuzo-san also has various concerns regarding the New Fleur Award?)

Izumi: (No, I’m sure troupes other than Yuzo-san’s do too… It’s not just us.)

Izumi: (What role should our theater company have in this world of theater that is rapidly changing in front of our eyes…)

Izumi: (We may have to re-evaluate the direction we’re headed in.)

-

Citron: It’s been a while since he ketchuped us so thoroughly~

Masumi: Criticized us so thoroughly?

Itaru: But he’s upped his kindness levels recently.

Chikage: Doesn’t that mean he approves of us?

Masumi: But the parts that are no good have become much harder to fix.

Sakuya: That’s true… We can’t come up with an easy answer this time. Our acting… Our origin…

Tsuzuru: It’s surprisingly difficult to just be ourselves.

Chikage: Probably because we’re the ones who understand ourselves the least.

Izumi: We chose to make a sequel of our debut performance with the intention to go back to our roots and remember our beginning…

Izumi: So, what do you think was the best thing about the original RomiJuli?

Sakuya: Honestly, I think I was pretty bad at acting. All I had going for me was how badly I wanted to act.

Tsuzuru: Though those feelings of yours haven’t changed.

Sakuya: Yes! If anything, I love and treasure acting even more now.

Masumi: So, we have to find what our current selves are “lacking”.

Itaru: I do feel like my current self is more absorbed in acting than I was back then.

Chikage: Our bonds have deepened, and we’ve all leveled up.

Citron: I can not think of anything we’re lacking~....

Masumi: But I understand what Yuzo’s saying.

Tsuzuru: Right… He’s also right about me still doubting the script.

Chikage: A difference from our debut performance, huh… For better or worse, it’s no longer our “first time” acting.

Itaru: You mean, like our freshness has disappeared? I guess a writer’s debut work always has a certain kind of oomph to it.

Sakuya: A “beginning” only comes once, so it’s not something we can replicate…

Tsuzuru: So in a sense, we’ll never be able to surpass our debut performance…?

Itaru: Sad but true.

Masumi: Something that can’t be surpassed despite our growth…

Itaru: A “first time” and the image of innocently rushing forward both have a certain kind of impact.

Sakuya: Hmmm…

Izumi: …

Izumi: (Everyone’s mood dampened.)

Izumi: Let’s put this on hold, think about it individually, and then have another meeting.

Tsuzuru: ‘Kay.

Itaru: … Good idea.

[Phone vibrating]

Sakuya: Oh–

Izumi: The meeting’s over, so it’s okay if you go out.

Sakuya: I’m sorry, please excuse me.

[Sakuya walks out]

Sakuya: — —Hello, This is Sakuma speaking.

Sakuya: Ummm, I’m sorry. About that…

Iv: long af maint shiki: i’ve got a test tomorrow, so i might not be on much Iv: we start on thurs Kar: gl Iv: aren’t you also starting soon Kar: been at it since the day before ytd Iv: oh you already did shiki: you’re so chill about it momo has entered the chat Kar: sup shiki: you’re late today Iv: have your tests started too? momo: i ran away from home Kar: sudden mood shift lmao

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[bluestar22x]

You Had Me From Hello

The Writing Contest - Chapter 1: You Had Me From Hello

Summary: Unexpectedly, small town woman Nora Delaine wins a writing contest and is flown first class to Salinas Valley to meet her new screenwriting partner.

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Female!OC (Nora Delaine)

Rating: 18+ Series

Word Count: 5,500(ish)

Warnings: Second person POV, mentions of drug use/addiction/loss and troubles with unhealthy family dynamics.

Author’s Note: I took inspiration for Javi's new home from this moodboard made by @wildemaven.

xxx

This is insane. I can't believe I'm actually going through with this.

That's what you were thinking as you settled into your seat in first class on a Southwest Airline plane headed for the airport in Monterey, California where you would then take a taxi to Salinas Valley, arguably the capital of the wine industry in the United States. But that's not why you were headed there. Nope.

You were headed to one of the vineyards, but it wasn't to taste test wine and forget your troubles, it was to write with an apparently well known up-and-coming screenwriter named Javi Gutierrez, who up until last week you personally hadn't known existed. Your best friend, Sierra Washington, however, had apparently heard plenty of him.

x

"You didn't!" you gasped, letting the letter in your hands float down to your kitchen table.

"I did!" your friend Sierra confirmed, grinning ear to ear.

"You entered my short story into a writing contest without my permission?" you hissed. You didn't feel that it had been anywhere near ready to be seen by anyone outside Sierra. When you'd sent her the document to proof read you'd trusted her not to share it with anyone else, and she'd betrayed that trust. You were furious.

"Aw, Nora, you were never going to release that document to anyone else if I didn't do it myself," she argued, placing a hand on her hip. "How many stories have I proof read for you? I loved every bit of them, yet every single one eventually ended up hidden in a file on your laptop and forgotten."

"They weren't good enough," you told her.

"Nothing ever is," she said, throwing her hands up in frustration. "You were stuck! You needed a little push. This is it. An opportunity to turn your story into a movie. Your dream!"

"I can't go to Salinas Valley for two months," you howled. "I haven't even found a new job yet!"

You'd recently been laid off from the pet magazine you'd been writing for since you turned twenty-five, nearly ten years ago, because of budget cuts a month ago and were having difficulty finding another job like it. You feared you might end up having to take a local job, instead of an online one, most likely waiting on tables. The thought of that made you cringe. You didn't like having to deal with the public. Even in a town as small as yours.

"Precisely!" Sierra exclaimed. "You need to work, and that's what this would be. You'd turn your story into a properly lengthy script with his help, and when it is bought you'll get money for it, along with some profits later on when the film is successful."

You snorted. "When?"

She narrowed her eyes at you. "When." Her tone was firm, certain.

You couldn't understand why she had so much faith in you when you'd spent most of your life failing. You'd struggled in college and you'd struggled to find a job and keep it for years. Writing for the pet magazine had felt mundane as far as writing went, but you'd been good at it and you'd finally felt like you had secured your future.

You should've known better with how the world was changing. Your generation and younger didn't read magazines anymore. You'd entered a dying industry that likely had an expiration date that would come before your retirement age.

"I can't afford to pay for another rent while I stay there," you continued.

She huffed. "Did you not read the part where it says all expenses will be paid? You'd be staying at his vineyard for free. You'd just need cash for extras. Like if you want take out or something."

"Staying at his vineyard..." You shook your head and met her copper brown eyes with your emerald green ones. "You really think I should be staying at a strange man's house, by myself?"

"He has tons of staff," she argued. "It's not much different from going on vacation and staying in a hotel by yourself."

You gave her an exasperated look. "That's way different! It's a private business and his staff aren't going to be there at night unless his runs it twenty-four seven."

"He knows Nic Cage," Sierra informed you, like that would make a difference to you. "They're friends. Javi's first screenplay was co-written with him."

You rolled your eyes. "Just cause you had a crush on Nic Cage in high school after you watched City of Angels and researched him, doesn't mean you know him and his friends."

"I did NOT have a crush on him," Sierra nearly shouted. "He's like three times my age."

"You did then."

"I did not."

You smirked and lifted your brows. "Thou protest too much."

She gritted her teeth, knowing full well that she wouldn't be able convince you otherwise. Because she had, in fact, had a celebrity crush on Nic Cage in high school.

She sighed. "Look. Sometimes you've got to take risks to gain the rewards. You can buy pepper spray when you land in California or something if it'll make you feel better. But I haven't heard anything about Javi Gutierrez that would suggest he'd be dangerous. And you wouldn't be sleeping in his mansion. You'd be in a guest house on the opposite side of the property. It overlooks some beautiful hills and valleys apparently. I did some research on Valley View Vineyard. That's his vineyard's name, fittingly. Anyway, it's apparently gorgeous in that area."

You had to admit to yourself a part of you was very tempted to say yes, not just to having help making a screenplay and selling it, but also to living in a California vacation destination for a while. You could use a break from your hometown.

"I can't," you said stubbornly. "I can't leave Buttercup and Tux with no one to watch them, and it wouldn't be fair to them to travel them out to California by plane. I wouldn't feel good about them being in cargo either. They're delicate creatures."

Buttercup and Tux were your two pet Lop rabbits, who you'd adopted as a bonded pair from a nearby animal shelter three years ago.

"I can watch them," Sierra offered. "I've done it for you before when you stayed in the hospital last year for food poisoning."

"Don't remind me," you groaned. That week had been the worst in your life and had put you off of salmon permanently.

She winced sympathetically. "Sorry."

"Look, even if I wanted to part from them for two freakin months," you started, sighing again, "Even if I wanted to go to California and write a script with a legit screenplay writer, my parents wouldn't approve. You know how worried they get."

"Yeah, I know," Sierra said with another huff. "I grew up with the product of their paranoia."

You couldn't help but laugh a little at that. Paranoia was a fitting word for it. Your parents were worry-warts. Especially since your older brother had died, leaving you as their only living child. Saying you were overprotected seemed to put it too simply. And you in turn were very wary of the world. Maybe too much. You'd turned down a lot of interesting parties and adventures with friends in favor of safety. You'd wanted to join your high school's travel club but had chickened out. Girls got kidnapped in foreign countries, after all.

The little voice in your head telling you such things sounded more like your mother's than yours.

"They'll say no," you added.

"Good thing you're a grown ass adult," Sierra reminded you firmly. "And you could lie and say you're staying at a rental to ease their minds."

You gave her a lopsided smile. "You're a bad influence on me, Ms. Washington."

"Somebody has to be!" she claimed.

You raked a hand through your shoulder length wavy brown hair as you silently debated over what choice to make. Stay or go. Safety or risk. You chewed your lip. "Fine. I'll do it."

Sierra jumped in spot and clapped like someone half her age. She squealed for you. "Oh my god, my girl's finally breaking rules and making her dreams come true."

You pursed your lips and silently hoped she was right. After all, there were no guarantees in life.

x

The next day you'd emailed Javi's manager, Walter, who was in charge of overseeing the contest and had helped Javi narrow all the submitted stories down to one. He'd immediately booked you a flight and told you to pack your bags, after reassuring you that Javi's intentions were good. He was going to co-write with you, but you'd be the top billing writer to the screenplay. He wasn't looking to take any credit that wasn't his.

Still, as you boarded the plane one week later, you found yourself nervous about the whole deal. You'd had to sign a contract, and part of that contract had protection for you and your script, saying you had all the rights, and therefore would have the final say over how it was written and what film company got to buy it. All nice things to ease your troubled mind, but you were worried now, a bit too late, over whether or not Javi would be a good fit as a writing partner. You'd seen his first film The Unbearable Weight Of Massive Talent the same night Sierra had handed you the letter, having wanted to make sure he'd be helpful and not be a bad influence instead when it came to your writing, and that had ended your concerns over his talent. The film was a little too out there for your liking, but you saw the heart behind it, and that was something you could work with.

The main concern you'd had since then was rooted in personality. You had no idea what he was like. He was clearly rich, anyone with a successful vineyard and a mansion was, and that concerned you, a child of two full time working parents who'd struggled to provide you with everything they'd wanted to give you. You'd been taught work ethic, you'd been taught to be polite to coworkers. What were the chances he'd been too? You shouldn't assume he'd be the typical rich person seen in media. You didn't know how most rich people actually behaved, and even if most were dramatic snobby leeches, that didn't mean he was.

That didn't stop you from thinking about how he might be during the entire time it took for the plane to take off.

"Would you like some wine?" a flight attendant asked some time later, drawing you from your inner thoughts.

You glanced up at her and blinked. This was new. You'd never been offered drinks on a plane, though this was only your second time in your life, the first time being when your family took a week long trip to Disneyland. "Is it on the house?"

"Of course," she replied with a knowing smile. "First time in first class?"

"You could probably guess that just by looking at my clothes," you reckoned. Most of the people seated around you were in suits or fancy business dresses, while you were dressed in a simple pair of light blue jeans, a bubble gum pink sweatshirt, and plain white sneakers.

The flight attendant shrugged. "We don't always get people in here who dress expensively. But most know about the complementary wine."

"I might as well take some," you said, "For the full experience. Don't know the next time someone will pay a ticket for me."

She laughed. "Would you be interested in a Pinot Noir?"

You had no idea what that meant, only really knowing wine as red or white, but decided to roll with it. "Sure."

As the flight attendant poured you a drink in a proper wine glass, you noticed the name on it. Valley View Vineyard. You wondered how widespread Javi's wine was as you accepted the drink and took a cautious sip.

It was good wine. Good was a lacking word. It was excellent. Smooth, flavorful. Better than any other wine you'd ever tasted. You could only guess that it was fairly expensive and aged well. You had to restrain yourself from downing the whole thing in under a minute. Wine wasn't meant for that, even a lower class small town girl like yourself who usually drank wine from a box knew that.

You did, however, make sure to have enough time for another glass before your flight landed.

x

Monterey Regional Airport, where you landed, was twelve miles from Salinas Valley, or around twenty-five minutes away. It took you an extra five minutes to actually get to Valley View Vineyard, totaling the cost of your taxi ride to nearly one hundred dollars, something that would've made you shudder if you hadn't just flown for free. You'd have had the ride for free if you had accepted the limousine Walter had offered you, but you hadn't been about to get in one of those things with what you'd been wearing for your flight. Besides, you didn't like feeling like you were leeching, having a real need to pay for some of your trip expenses. If you and Javi were successful, you'd get way more money back in profits anyway.

Salinas Valley was cooler than you'd expected, the temperature hovering around fifty-seven degrees Fahrenheit. It was a vast improvement from the thirty-two degree average in North Dakota, but not as hot as you'd imagined the middle of California would be, even though it was coastal.

They did have plenty of sun that day, something you knew your hometown wasn't going to get for the next a few days, a couple days of clouds and a severe snowstorm expected for most of the state.

On the way to the vineyard you cracked the widow to breath in the fresh air and you stared out at the landscape as the taxi drove by it at precisely the speed limit.

Salinas was gorgeous, as Sierra had promised. You passed many luscious green fields, farmed and unfarmed alike, several vineyards, and plenty of rolling hills and valleys, the latter expected, considering the name of the county.

You were excited by the time you arrived at Valley View Vineyard, anxious to see what the property itself looked like. You'd known it was fairly massive for a vineyard, sitting on one hundred and ten acres, but when you'd looked it up online the day after you'd gotten the letter, there wasn't much photos of the place anywhere, even on the official website. Mostly it had been photos of the grapes, the wine, and the wine making process, and mainly had detailed that process and how to get your hands on a bottle. You'd avoided looking at the history page, wanting to find out from Javi himself how he came to own it.

The vineyard was gated, with elegant iron bars, and your taxi driver had to press a speaker button on a fence post to be let in. Both sides of the tarred driveway was lined with bushes, leading up to the mansion, a Spanish styled home with arches you'd never seen before outside movies and TV shows that had taken place in Spain or South America. Beyond that were grape vines in every direction until they met the hills that bordered the area.

Walter was waiting for you on the front porch, a man in his sixties, with surprisingly thick gray hair and a considerably youthful face. You imagined he had several more decades left in him if his appearance was anything to go by. It was probably in spite of his job. You couldn't imagine a manager of any kind having it too easy.

The dark gray pinsuit he was wearing made you feel very under dressed, but he shook your hand and introduced himself without even twitching an eye, and helped you carry your belongings to a yellow Jeep in the corner of the driveway.

"Javi will be here soon to personally show you around," he informed you. "I'll drop your bags off inside the guest house."

"You don't need to do that," you proclaimed, not wanting to be a burden to anyone. You didn't think it was part of a talent manager's job to bring suitcases anywhere.

"It's no problem," Walter promised you, hopping into the Jeep's driver's seat. "We will talk more later, when you are done touring, to sort out some more paperwork. Legal stuff. Stick by the front porch. That's where Javi asked me to tell you to be."

"Okay," you said, waving at him. "Thanks."

He nodded at you, a warm smile spreading across his face. "You're welcome, Miss Delaine."

"Nora," you corrected him. "I don't like formalities."

"That's something you'll have to get used to if you want to take part in Hollywood," Walter warned you, "But I will call you Nora by default, when appropriate."

Then he was on his way, leaving you to kick pebbles off the tar by the porch. It was nearly ten minutes later when you spotted a man approaching at a brisk walk from a large industrial looking building to your left.

He was wearing sunglasses, a thick long sleeved orange button down shirt, dark blue jeans, and tan boat shoes. He appeared to be in his early forties, with limited gray hair in his patchy, but well trimmed beard. His dark brown hair was short, but wildly curled, and his skin was golden, tanned from spending most of his days out in the sun.

As he neared you and pulled off his sunglasses, you noticed his eyes were dark like his hair, and that he was at least a half a foot taller than you, probably just shy of six feet. Taller than most people you'd ever been around, especially family, but not untypically tall for someone in Hollywood.

He was worthy of Hollywood, you'd thought. He was handsome, and that was an understatement as far as you were concerned. No boy in your high school graduating class could've held up beside him and you felt your insides warm as you studied him.

Easy, you silently ordered yourself. You're just here to learn script writing from him, hopefully make a movie, and go back home. Besides, looks aren't everything.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," he apologized in a rush when he got within earshot of you, "I was helping my employees clean up a wine spill."

He spoke smoothly, with an accent that was far from any you'd heard before with your own ears. South American, maybe? Spaniard? You could definitely hear an infliction there that suggested he'd grown up speaking more Spanish than English.

"Oh no," you said earnestly. "Hope it wasn't too bad."

"Nothing we can't recover from," he assured you. He broke out into a bright smile and outstretched his right hand. "Javi Gutierrez."

You shook his offered hand and beamed back at him, putting on your best friendly demeanor. "Nora Delaine."

"It's so lovely to meet you, Nora," he said, covering your hand with his left one briefly before pulling both his hands away from you. His hold on you was long enough for you to notice how large his hands were in comparison to yours, and softer than you'd expected. You tried not to think about them too much.

"Let me show you around," he continued quickly, "It will give us a chance to get to know each other, no?"

"I'd like that," you replied honestly. "I've always been curious about how wine was made."

His lips tugged back even more, and in that moment he looked like a kid on Christmas morning. Excited and wide-eyed. You wondered if he was always this happy to meet guests. "Great! This way, then."

He guided you on a stroll around the main parts of the vineyard, showing you inside the buildings where the grapes were stored, turned into wine, and where the wine was aged in barrels. He also took you through rows of grapes in the fields behind his home, detailing the care that he and his staff had to put into them before they were ready to harvest in the autumn season.

"You know your stuff," you noted as you walked shoulder to shoulder with him. "I take you're not one to observe while your employees do all the work?"

"I used to be," Javi admitted, "But when I bought this place I decided I wanted to change that. Made a point to spend some spare time helping harvest the grapes and pour the wine into the barrels. I still have much to learn. Wine making is actually interesting to watch and inspired the last script I wrote, as you might tell."

You did not mention you'd only seen his first movie, afraid to insult him. You focused on the other tidbit in his confession. "You didn't grow up here?"

"No," Javi confirmed, in the way Spanish speaking people pronounce it. "I grew up on an olive estate in Mallorca, also called Majorca, it's an island off the coast of Spain."

"Why'd you move here?" you inquired. You'd seen pictures of islands in the Mediterranean Sea, watched movies that were filmed there. Who'd want to move away from that?

He hesitated for a second before answering, shoving one of his hands into a side pocket of his jeans. "I guess you could say I needed a fresh start. And this place being a lot closer to Hollywood, I thought the move could help my career."

"Has it?"

He hummed. "I think so. But even if not, I like it here."

"So how long have you owned this place?" you asked.

"A little over two years," Javi replied. "It was already a very successful vineyard when I bought it from the previous owner's daughter who wanted nothing to do with it after he died. I kept on most of the staff, including the manager, Enzo. He's the only reason it's still successful. I hardly know enough to dare participate in the business. He's taught me everything I have managed to learn about it and I'm very grateful. He's helped me gain financial independence from my family."

There was something about how humble Javi was being about his lack of experience that made it hard for you not to like him already. He definitely did not seem like he had a spoiled rich man's attitude.

"Does your family visit?"

Javi's brows knitted together and his smile fell. "No. We do not get along, unfortunately. Not anymore. My family...they are, as some people say, toxic."

"I'm sorry." You felt bad for being nosy about it. "My parents aren't easy either, they're a bit too overprotective. In fact, I had to lie about some of the details of this project to get here. Otherwise, they'd have talked me out of it. But at least we get along enough to still care about visiting each other."

"It's a shame you had to lie," he said, "But selfishly I am glad you did whatever it took to get here. When I read your script, it drew me in like witchcraft. The way you write...it's compelling. Poetic. And for such a simple premise, you made it exciting. It made me look at a so called average life with new appreciation I did not have in my youth."

"You can thank my friend Sierra for everything," you told him. "She submitted my work. She convinced me to come."

"I owe her a debt then," he concluded, and you blushed. You knew he was saying that because he was excited to work with you, but a part of your brain had jumped to the conclusion that he owed her for you. Not like you hadn't just met.

"If you want to repay it have Nic Cage send her a message or something," you suggested. "She's a big fan."

"No way!" he exclaimed giddily, halting suddenly. "I must meet her someday! I'm a huge fan myself."

"Aren't you and Nic friends?" you quizzed, confused.

"Being a friend now does not negate the appreciation I had of his work before," he declared. "But it does mean setting up a meeting between them would be fairly easy. She could even stay with us for a time."

Us. Oh, his choice of words. You ignored the flip of your stomach. It was absurd. Javi wasn't really your type. Rich and energetic. Earnest and puppy-eyed. Right? You frowned.

He led you out of the rows of grapes to the far corner of the property where beautiful rolling hills back dropped a cozy looking two story ranch styled house that had recently been painted white. It was far more modest than his mansion, but still twice as big as your childhood home.

"That is where you'll be staying," he declared. "Do you wish to see it first or the space we'll be working in?"

"House first," you decided quickly. "I want to grab a few things from my bag to put on my desk. Assuming I'll have one?"

"Of course!"

The inside of the house was rustic. It reminded you of home, minus the buck antlers your dad had hung up on the living room wall. Not that he'd hunted a day in his life. He'd found them while hiking through the forest with the family dog in the dead of winter, the pair having naturally shed off of the deer they had once been attached to.

"This is wonderful," you commented as your eyes fell on your bags by the staircase. Walter had dropped them off as promised.

Javi beamed at you. "I am glad you like it. I admit, it's not my style."

"It wouldn't be, would it?" you mused. "This is very western themed, not island."

"It was once a place for temporary employees to stay," he informed you. "It was remodeled and decorated this way before I bought it. I just haven't bothered to change it."

"There's nothing that needs changing," you told him surely. You weren't going to allow anyone to insult the taste of most of your hometown.

He chuckled. "Maybe not."

You reached for one of your smaller bags and pulled out a stuffed giraffe and a photo of your two rabbits, plus another of a man your age, military short hair and a wide grin on his face.

"Is that your boyfriend?" Javi inquired curiously.

You shook your head somberly. "No, this is Kip, my brother. Was, rather. He overdosed on opioids last April."

Javi expressed honest dismay. "Oh no. I am so sorry. Were you close?"

"Very," you answered, chewing your lip, remembering the last time when Kip was alive and truly happy. It was far too long ago to be comforting. "He was only older than me by a year. Was quite different than me though. Very independent. Whenever my parents told him to do something he did the opposite. That's how he ended up in the military. It's how he ended up a war veteran with a bad back, which led doctors to treating him with strong drugs and in turn got him addicted to them."

"There are no words," Javi said gently, squeezing your arm at the elbow. "Is he going on your desk?"

"The fire mantle," you told him, heading for the fireplace in the living room and placing the framed photo on the shelf above it, carefully setting it there. You returned to Javi's side after. "Now I'm ready to check out the office."

He must have sensed that you didn't want to discuss your brother anymore because he just nodded and followed you out of the house.

x

The inside of Javi's mansion was...excessive. Six bedrooms, six full sized bathrooms to go with them, another two basic bathrooms (one for each floor), a massive kitchen and living room, a dining room, a personal office, a game room, a movie theater, and a sun room. There was a double stairway of course, and the rooms were mostly white, with some gold and black accents.

While you weren't a huge fan of overly sized houses and lack of color, you had to admit it was impressive, and some of the rooms were charming, likely thanks to a talented interior decorator.

One of the most charming rooms was the sun room, with all of its natural light and green house plants in vases. There were even a few vines hanging from the walls. It was the last room on the tour.

"This is where we'll be working," Javi informed you, nodding at the two desks set up in a corner. "I like writing out here. Feels too stuffy in the office. What do you think?"

"It's beautiful in here," you commented, awe in your voice. "I'm sure I'll get plenty of inspiration from it."

"Great!" Javi exclaimed, clapping his hands together, startling you. "I'll give you some time to fix up your desk to your liking, the one closest to the door, and have you meet me out back for dinner when you're ready."

"Dinner?" you questioned, frowning.

"Is it supper where you're from?" Javi asked when he noticed your confusion.

"Yes, but it's not that," you replied, explaining, "I didn't know I'd be eating with you tonight."

"Is that a problem?"

"No," you said a little too fast, cheeks threatening to turn red. "I just didn't expect it."

"As long as you're on this property you will never need to cook unless you wish to," Javi told you. "The chef here is excellent and always cooks up way too much for me. You'd be doing me a favor by joining me. And I'd like to get to know you a little more before we start writing together tomorrow."

"Would it be rude to ask what's on the menu?" you inquired.

He grinned. "Not at all. It's shrimp scampi tonight. Though there are alternatives available if you are allergic or vegan."

"I'm not, and I would never say no to shrimp," you declared.

He chuckled at your enthusiasm. "Good. Dinner will be served in thirty minutes, until then -"

"You'll be out on the back patio area," you finished for him.

He nodded. "Just through the doors."

He backed out of the room through a pair of beautifully detailed white doors and you could see him sit down in one of the patio chairs. He pulled out his phone and made a call you could not hear from inside and you forced yourself to look away, not wanting to be caught staring like a creepy stalker.

You placed your stuffed toy giraffe on the center of your desk next to the tape and stapler, along with the framed photo of your rabbits, before plopping down in the chair behind it to open up the new laptop you'd been gifted.

It was sooo fast to start up, and the perfect size for you. You hoped at the end of the two months you were staying that you'd be able to keep it. Especially after you went on to spend the half hour Javi had given you setting up the laptop, which included adding giraffe wallpaper to the main screen.

Once you were done, with a few minutes to spare, you stepped outside.

The back patio was made of gorgeous red brick and covered with more plant vases. The standard pool and hot tub were beside a four person outdoor table with an umbrella for shade.

The area looked so peaceful and dreamy that you weren't sure a space could get better until you laid eyes on the mini pond a yard away from the glass table, and noticed the brightly colored fish swimming in it. Fish splattered and patched with reds, oranges, blues, and blacks on their white bodies.

"Koi fish?" you quizzed when Javi glanced up at you from reading an email on his phone.

"Came with the house," he told you. "But I kept them cause I decided I liked them. Do you like Koi?"

You nodded. "I always wanted to have some of my own someday. But North Dakota winters would be hard for them to combat and Koi are expensive."

"Well, you can come back here and watch them whenever you like while you're staying here," Javi said. "Maybe they'll inspire you."

"A sun room and a Koi pond." You smirked. "Careful, you might not be able to get rid of me."

Javi parted his lips and closed them like he was going to say something but decided not to, and you blinked curiously at him. What had he been wanting to say but thought was best not said?

"Dinner is served!" a woman who was most likely Javi's chef, shouted.

He beamed at you. "Prepare to have the best shrimp in your life."

x

Javi was right, the shrimp was amazing, and the company continued to be pleasant. It was just you and him for an hour, the chef checking in briefly on occasion to offer wine and water refills and several well spaced out courses of Mediterranean food. You were stuffed when you were finished, and you wanted to sit by the Koi pond and digest, but you thought it would be best not to overstay your welcome.

"Well, I'd better go," you announced, trying to sound casual, as you stood back up. You were about to fish for some answers to questions that had been dancing around in your head all day. "I'm sure your girlfriend - or boyfriend - will want me out of the house when they get here."

"Neither," Javi told you, smiling as if he knew you were digging for information. He probably did. You were rarely subtle. "I'm not dating anyone right now. My last girlfriend moved to America with me but after living together for a month we realized we were better just as friends and she went back to Spain."

You winced. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's okay," he assured you. "We're still friends."

Friends? The word shouldn't have made your stomach flip as it did.

"Good," you murmured, not sure what else to say to a statement like that. "Too many of my past relationships ended nasty or by ignoring each other awkwardly."

You sighed and stretched your right hand out. He stood and shook it again. "Goodnight, Nora."

"Goodnight, Javi."

With that, you left him physically, but your brain didn't. For half the night you couldn't help replaying the time you'd spent with him, committing it to memory.

It had been a great first day, but you feared that you were already tempted to enter a dangerous game.

The kind of game that could break your heart.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

xxx

[endlessreruns]

(Munro Chambers) [The Theorist]. Please welcome [Easton Weston (he/they)] to Huntsville, WV. They are an [33]-year-old [RESIDENT] who lives in [TOWN]. You may see them around working as a [manager at the bed and breakfast]

Name: Easton Miles Weston

NickNames: East, Compass (Jamie)

Face Claim: Munro Chambers (updated fc: Darren Barnet)

Age: 33

Gender/Pronouns: genderfluid ; he/they

Orientation: queer

Town Resident

Neither Hunter or Gatherer

Occupation: Manager at Martha Mae's Bed and Breakfast

Languages Spoken: English, Japanese, German, some French, Spanish, and Korean

--------

Born in Huntsville

Had a twin brother named North who was older by 10 minutes

Got really into movies and tv series at a young age and would rewatch tapes, DVDs, and eventually full series box sets over and over.

Had dreams and ambitions to be a screenwriter and make his own films, and after getting an old camera at a local yard sale he began to make his own short films using Barbies and other figures bought at yard sales whenever someone in town had one.

Started to upload these online to his Myspace page during his freshman year of high school before uploading them to a new video sharing platform called YouTube a year later.

At the time they didn't garner many views

He began to make other types of videos in high school, still focused on his love of movies and tv and in his senior year he started having friends on as guests on one of the series he did on his channel, one that eventually would become a video podcast with an audio only companion on Apple Podcasts and Spotify.

During high school his YouTube Channel didn't get to over 10k subscribers, but back then that wasn't too bad. Especially for something that was pretty much just a hobby.

He never was popular in school, some people even found him weird because of his little obsession, but he still managed to be invited to parties and had his own circle of friends, some of which were actually in the popular crowd.

North had been the one out of the two of them who was actually cool and popular

They were accepted into film school and after graduating from Huntsville High Easton packed up his bag to move to New Jersey in order to transit into the city for classes because living in New York proper is expensive as fuck.

At the same time he was going off to film school, North was going off to basic training. The two kept in contact until his brother's death a year later.

While the quantity of his videos on YouTube started to slow down during this time, the quality of them only increased as he started to incorporate what he was learning in school into them. No longer posting multiple 5 or 10 minute videos a week, but rather longer more thought out essay type pieces. As well as continuing to post up short films here and there. The channel had continued to steadily grow during this time, but still never broke 100k.

Then Easton made the video that would put them on the map. In 2011 he released a video theorizing that the character of Kirby Reed had survived the events of Scream 4. Too bad he got stuck in Huntsville again before learning all those years later that this theory was in fact correct.

The channel only gained traction from there. Uploads both new and old started receiving views in the 100s of thousands and into to the millions, as the platform in general grew so did his subscriber count. Within two years of that video being released he had over a million subscribers.

After having spent the past couple years working on sets he quit to start focusing mainly on his channel. Hiring on friends he had made in film school to do animations and editing.

By the time Easton was 25 it was a full-fledged operation.

His popularity only grew over the next few years.

For a real life comparison of the type of content they made think MatPat/Film Theorist

They had been so wrapped up in everything going on with their channel that they hadn't noticed that they hadn't talked to their parents or any of their friends back home in years. Calls went to voicemail that were never returned. Emails were never responded to. Even texts went un-read.

Sure, maybe he could have reached out more than he was trying to, but every single person from back then ignoring them?

It wasn't until Easton started checking his old facebook account to notice that most of them didn't have updates past April 26, 2012. The ones who had had locations other than Huntsville, and even some of them had stopped posting abruptly. Sure, he didn't post on his own anymore, but these were dates from when the social media platform was still popular.

He packed up his car headed back home for the first time since his brother's funeral in 2009. Completely unprepared for what was awaiting him.

Both parents dead, having been among those that died when the monsters came, and a house that had long been a pile of ashes.

They went to stay at the bed and breakfast, finding it was owned by someone who had been a friend back during their youth. He took a job as the manager, using part of his earnings to pay for his room and board.

Has been back in Huntsville for 7 months. There are some things, he's gotten used to, but to say they were used to everything would be a lie.

Over his time here he has continued to develop theories. No longer just having to do with movies and series like in the past, but also now about the town and the people in it.

Sure he no longer has the massive platform he once did, but the theorist inside him can't just go unfulfilled.

[iseesound]

𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃! 𝐑𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐨, 𝓒𝓻𝓾𝓮𝓵 𝓦𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻༄

Aired 02.02.23

Featuring music from American Football, Mitski, Panchiko, Alex G and more!

Listen on Spotify and Apple Music.

From the beginning of quarantine to my trip to New York in 2021, I went through a time in my life that felt like a perpetual winter I would never get out of. Countless nights spent on Minecraft with my friends from California and London, to the endless drives to nowhere with my friends here in Chicago. “Cruel Winter,” encapsulates the music I was listening to during that time. A digitally infused indie soundscape.

The name comes partly from a screenplay I wrote for a screenwriting class I took, and from a playlist I made with my friend Raymond, (who I met in the screenwriting class). It encapsulated this specific sound, a grey and brown with a stark baby blue between the two. 

Starting of with “Brian is The Most Beautiful Boy,” the droning at the beginning takes me straight back to the beginning of the pandemic, mostly in my room playing Minecraft with my friends Jas, Ray and Alfie. I had just gotten my license as well, and sometimes I would take longer coming back from picking the lunches the school gave out for free, just to clear my mind.

“My Friends Don’t Know (I Know They Hate Me)” by dandelion hands was so popular on TikTok during this time. I loved this song and I would listen to the album “It’s All in Your Head,” over and over. It was around then the “Cruel Winter” began to settle in.

The first run of the show is called “Raymond’s Run,” I met Ray in that online screenwriting class, we became pretty good friends after the class ended, spending hours on Minecraft and Discord. He got me a cracked version of FL Studio and introduced me to a word of music I had never listened to. I can still remember the day I listened to “Deathmetal” and gushing about it to Raymond the next day. Or when Raymond showed me the cassette he wanted to buy from Subsonic Eye’s bandcamp. “Cabin Fever” reminds me of the screenplay I wrote, and the runs I would take in the mornings. Raymond is an incredibly talented guitar player, he could learn a song so quickly. I remember he learned “Beautiful Boy,” by John Lennon, on a call with me and our friend Jas, with a quick glance at the chords. He was working on a folk album around that time and he shared Nick Drake as one of his inspirations for the album. “Parasite” stuck with me.

My friend Sasha and Maya would frequently host creative zoom sessions, where we would just spend time working on whatever we wanted.

I would mostly draw, and sometimes write. While they wrote. Sasha introduced me to Car Seat Headrest around that time, and “Twin Fantasy” became an obsession. “Stop Smoking We Love You” transitions well into “Thoroughfare” by Ethel Cain, one of three songs in this set that I didn’t listen to during the pandemic. Though the lyricism encapsulates my mindset during the time. I had a desire to run to California and leave everything behind. I considered not going to college and just running to the west. 

That desire was ignited by the screenwriting class I took through Academy of Arts University. There was something special about that class. Where as most zoom classes I had during the time was filled with shut off cameras. Most of the students had their cameras open and were eager to participate. We all had an instagram group chat where we would check in on each other throughout the year. I had met Raymond there and Jas through the class. Just a few weeks after the class ended we played on a Minecraft server Jas had made almost every single night. I met so many people on the server, we would talk and play for hours. I even met my friend Alfie, who’s from London, with them on a Minecraft parkour map.

Mr. Q, the teacher of the screenwriting class read a screenplay I wrote months after the class ended. (Which I plan to film later this year.) He recommended me Holy Hive sometime later. “Cynthia’s Celebration” has these beautiful drums that are just so rich and beautiful. It reminds me of the feeling I had while taking his class and those nights playing Minecraft. (Brown and a hint of orange).

“Lens” by Frank Ocean is my favorite song from Frank. I would play this song non-stop. It was my most listened song that year. It reminds me of the directionless drives I would take with my friends. Nate’s car was our go to vehicle. While me and Alonso would control the aux. 

I watched “We’re All Going to The World’s Fair” with Jas and Ray.

We hated it. But the music stuck with me. Sasha had already introduced Alex G to me but his music never clicked with me until I watched this movie. “End Song” reminds me of this feeling I had in the lit of my stomach throughout the pandemic. It still hasn’t quite went away.

I had many movie nights during the pandemic. Some with my friend Sarah, others with my childhood best friend B, and others with Ixmati, Annie and Celeste. Sometimes it was spent trying not to fall asleep, and others spent trying not to wake my parents.  

“Two Weeks In December” by Skull Crusher and “Secret” by Waveform* have this specific sound, like the haze that seemed to cover everything during the first few months of the quarantine.

I never really got into Mitski, but “A Pearl” had been on heavy rotation throughout the year and well into the beginning of the quarantine. 

“It’s just that I fell in love with a war,

Nobody told me it ended,

and it left a pearl in my head,

and I roll it every night

just to watch it glow.”

I hate to admit I romanticized the first few months of quarantine and I often find myself looking back. I can’t help to smile. Even though it felt like the world was ending, I didn’t feel alone.

My “Cruel Winter” felt like it was nearing it’s end when I listened to “A Lot’s Going To Change” by Weyes Blood. I was graduating high school. I so badly wanted to go back to how it had been before. I was so afraid of what came after. It was during this time where the pandemic was in limbo. The cases had spiked again and everything was in limbo. 

American Football was a band I listened to throughout my dive into the lesser known indie artists, at least from my perspective. The perpetual winter ended at the end of summer ‘21. Right before a solo trip to New York with my friends Alonso and Dario. (Or so I thought).

The final run of the set is made up of three songs. “Wintertime” by Brockhampton, “4sure” by Louke Man, and “Thank You Song” by FKA Twigs

“Wintertime” is an unreleased song that was leaked along with the Technical Difficulties tracks Brockhampton did over the quarantine. The songs were on heavy rotation when I would drive. “Wintertime” was the inspiration for my screenplay I wrote during that online class. It was a big idea condensed into a 7 page script if I remember correctly. A fitting metaphor to the big ideas I had during the pandemic but with little outlet to do them.

The last two songs serve as a thank you, to all those friends that helped me get through my “Cruel Winter”, and even though it came back not long after my trip to New York. These people helped me get through it.

Special thanks to Aaron, Alfie, Alonso, Anna, B, Celeste, Daisy., Dario, Erin, Iris, Ixmati, Jas, Marcus, Maya, Mr. Q, Nate, Raymond, Sarah, Sasha, The Screenwriting Guild, and TJ. Even though I couldn’t mention everyone and everything we did together, I am grateful for the memories we made together.

[writergeekrhw]

Do you have any advice for students interested in pursuing screenwriting?

I answered this about TV writing a while ago:

I've had a mediocre screenwriting career with several sales and no produced credits, so I'm not sure how valuable my advice is, but here's a Screenwriting version:

How to get into Screenwriting in 16 easy steps:

Watch a lot of movies. Analyze your favorites. How long are they? How do they introduce the main character and her or his dilemma? What are the protagonist's dreams, strengths and weaknesses and how are they introduced? Why do I care about this person and what they want? Do I want them to succeed or fail? When is the first major turning point/twist? When is the next one? How many are there in total and how far apart? If I were to divide this into Beginning, Middle, and End sections, where would I do that?

Find scripts for things you've watched online if possible. Pay for them if you can afford it, so long as the money is going to the writer and not some thief, because that's the right thing to do.

Write your own stuff! Write 3-4 of your own movies. (You can take an online class in how to do this at UCLA Extension or other places if you need help understanding how to do this.)

Keep writing. Never stop writing new stuff.

MOVE TO L.A. (This is optional-ish, but will make life easier and up your odds a lot). Have enough to live on for a few months, cost of living in L.A. is very high.

Get a day job. Unless you're crazy rich or something. I'd recommend getting work as a P.A. or an assistant to at least start making contacts.

Make friends. Be awesome. Be helpful. Generally make a good impression. The business is small. People talk. Don't be a jerk.

Enter the major screenwriting contests and fellowship programs. They can help you get noticed/read/represented.

OPTIONAL BUT VERY HELPFUL: Produce your own short/low budget movie. Get out on the festival circuit and/or get millions of views on YouTube.

Get someone important to read your stuff. This may come via reps, friends, contests, that short film, etc.

Someone loves your stuff! Hurray1

Get asked to meet/pitch.

Sell one of your scripts/get an open writing assignment. If this doesn't happen, repeat step 7-12 until it does.

Write an awesome script or be awesomely amazing in rewriting your own script for the studio.

Accept being rewritten gracefully.

Your movie gets made! Congratulations. You made it. Get more assignments! Sell more specs! Keep on striving. Never stop writing new things. Never stop striving. Never stop.

Allow 5-10 years.