Scriptwriting on my mind

When I was in college and university, I was active in the theatre groups and did time on stage myself, but what has always appealed to me was script-writing. This is evident in my everyday writing as I tend to have strong dialogues in my stories.

But I have always been hesitant in making the leap from writing articles and stories to scripts. A leap to some but to me, its like the cow jumping over the moon.

Yet, it has been on my mind lately. So the question I posing here is, how do one make the leap into script-writing in general and also for the Malaysian market?

Post your answers in the comments.

Short Story : The Silent Whisper

The Silent Whisper
by Maclean Patrick

The heat woke him up. It was 3 in the morning, not a good time to wake up for it will take him close to forever to go back to sleep. In this heat, it was better he stayed awake until dawn. But staying awake was not something he looked forward to.

Sitting up, he looked out the window. The city lights glowed in the horizon. There was still life at this hour, still people going about their business within the graveyard hour.

Midnight did not scare him. But 3am did.

It was the hour the Whispers came out. And as he wiped the sweat from his brow, he heard a whisper.

“Awake. You’re awake.”

He cup his hands over his ears. Closed his eyes and asked the heavens to spare him from the pain of entertaining this unwelcome visitor.

“No point hiding. You can hear me,” she said, her breath; cold against the back of his ear. “Do you have an answer for me?”

He bent over, head touching his knees as he sat; rocking slowly on his mattress.

“Go away,” he managed a weak protest.

“What is your answer?”

“Go away.”

“Answer me..”

“Go away.”

“You PROMISED me an answer tonight,” her chilly lips hovering closely over his fore-head.

She was bolder now. Invading what little private space he had left in his personal bubble. More demanding, more forceful in her request and she was not one to take “No” for an answer. Yet, tonight he had, had enough.

“No,” he finally spoke up.

“What?”

“No,” he lowered his trembling hands, his eyes still close. “My answer is no.”

“Don’t you want release?”

“Yes, but not like this.”

“Just take my offer.”

He shook his head from side to side as his rocking continued. He could feel her, just in front of him, watching him move, waiting for his reply.

“Yes, I am hurting. And everyday is another day of heart-ache and misery. And I’m barely coping from breath to breath. But dum spiro, spero. I’m still breathing, I’m still hoping. If you take me, it will not be like this. I’ll let destiny take me, fate set the clock. Sorry, but you just have to wait.”

There was a silent whisper. A word spoken, yet unheard. He felt her breath as she mouthed a phrase that went pass him and then she was no more. Gone into the night and he knew he was alone, again, in the room.

He cried.

It was 3am, the darkest time of the night and the silent form was returning empty-handed. Her colleagues had more luck. Returning with the Damned. Returning with those whom had replied, “Yes.” They lifted the wretched souls like ragged dolls, jeering at her for she had nothing in hand. She snarled back at them, “I’ll have him. It’s just a matter of time. He’ll break and I’ll bring him back with me. Death always wins in the end.”

Article on FreeMalaysiaToday – The Arrogance of hard work

Another one of my articles got published on the news portal. These guys are doing their bit in allowing an avenue for the normal Malaysian to voice their opinions on a larger scale. A scale that is not censored by the government. Well, here’s my take on the governments habit of giving out hand-outs to Malaysians, that have in fact made us rather lazy people : The Arrogance of Hard Work.