The First Two Scenes

As promised, here are the first two scenes:



               Rusty water drips from the ceiling down the wall.

               DAMIAN, late 30s and polished hair, steps out of the way,
               keeping one eye glued to the ceiling.   He brushes any water
               off his bloodied suit.  Undoes his pitch black neck tie, uses
               it to clean off the hardened blood.

               YOUNG HEAVY BREATHING approaches.

               Damian drops the tie as a half-naked child crawls on all

               The child looks up.   It's WILL, athletic and at the age of
               twelve holds the promise of becoming a good-looking man.  He
               bears a shit-eating grin, clearly enjoys the situation.

                         Hard at work?

               A gun raises.  Seconds later, it FIRES.

               Will laughs, unaffected by the bullet.

               Damian attempts to fire another round.  Nothing happens. 

                                   WILL (CONT'D)
                         What's wrong, Damian?

               END DREAM SEQUENCE

               INT. DAMIAN'S OFFICE - DAY

               Blurry image of KATE, blond-haired, hovers above.  Her
               youthful, well-shaped thighs slowly come into focus. Damian's
               hand rubs up and down her legs.

               Kate pushes his hands off her, steps back, defensive, clearly
               disgusted with Damian's behavior.


                         Why not, darling?

                         You're drunk...darling.

               Kate tosses an empty mini bottle of vodka into the trash bin.

               Damian swings his legs off the desk, adjusts his tie.

                         What are you doing here?

                         Worried about you.   


                         Some guy's here to see you.


                         I don't know.  He's in the
                         conference room.

A Roaring Welcome

Dear Readers:

The week before Thanksgiving, I sunk into the worst depression ever.   The descent rattled both my physical and mental health.   I did everything possible to stop myself from falling deep into this pit.   Called family and friends.   All they could really say was, “I love you.  We hope things get better.”   As warming as that might be to hear, I still hit rock bottom.

Once there, a voice spoke to me.   It said, “If you’re a writer, then just write!   Screw what Syd Field and Robert McKee preach.  Get something, anything on paper.  Doesn’t matter how fucked up it is.  Just fucking write.”   The next day I started work on a screenplay.   I had no clue where this was going.   I wrote three pages a day.  This, in conjunction with St. John’s Wort, proved to elevate my mood.   By the third day, I titled the piece, Descent (named after my descent into the worst emotional state I can remember.   More on the title in two paragraphs).

On the twenty-fifth page, questions started taking over.   Why is the boy character, Will, so hated by everyone except the protagonist, Damian?   What is the relationship between Damian and Will?    Upon reaching the bottom of the thirty-second page, I stopped.  Didn’t know what kind of story I was telling.

While my mind ruminated for further story ideas, I stumbled across an article entitled “The 15 Biggest Cult Films of the Past Five Years”.   The third biggest cult film, Descent.   “Shit”, thinks I.    Time to rethink things.   No better venue to rethink things than a blog.   This blog shall be called Descent into My Creative Mind:  A Rather Absurd Journey.

This is how it shall be laid out.  Excerpts of the script shall be posted whereupon the next day or days later analyze the piece along with discussing where the scene(s) could go.  Occasionally, I’ll insert random fictional absurdity that has nothing to do with script.   Some days, I’ll embark upon philosophical ramblings.

I ask you, the reader/follower, for honesty.  You have something to say, say it.  Don’t hold back.   Thank you and enjoy this blog.
–Eric Sazer