P.A. Wilson's Blog, page 31

Screenwriting for Dummies and Amazon Studios Adaptation

A couple of weeks ago, Amazon Studios came to my attention. I’m guessing a lot of authors long to see their work on the big screen, but maybe it’s just me.

Amazon Studios caught my fancy because it gives me a chance to dip my toe into the screenwriting world.  I decided to do some research into how to write a screenplay adaptation and went directly to my favorite how-to book – the Dummies series. writing different types of stories required different style, focus and format.

The Style difference

The key tip I took away from reading that section of the book was – visual. A novelist will describe the setting and surroundings in detail using the five senses. On the screen, you have sight and hearing. You need to translate taste, smell and touch into visual clues. If your hero is in a dark alley and you need them to smell the odor of rotting vegetables, you need to show the vegetables.

The Focus difference

Action, action, action. The novelist can show their characters develop through feelings and inner dialogue. On the screen, they have to act and react. Action is defined in the Screenwriting for Dummies as something that leads to something else. Our hero entering the stinky alley isn’t action. Our hero entering the stinky alley and tripping over a severed arm which leads them to search for the killer is action.

The Format difference

Format is something that can trip up any writer. If you submit to a traditional publisher or agent you need to follow their format rules. If you are trying to get your script in front of someone who will make it into a movie, you have to format it correctly.  I used to hate the idea of ‘messing’ around with formatting. My outlook changed when I started reviewing manuscripts as an ebook contest judge and when I used to be a part owner of Paperbox Books. Formatting correctly allows the reader to access your work. If you put your script in front of someone who has seen 20 scripts that day, don’t make it hard for them to read it.

The bottom line

Screenwriting forDummies pretty much covers it from idea to opening night. There is a lot of writing craft information along with the specific information for screenwriters. I highly recommend it for anyone thinking of getting into the screenwriting business. My bottom line? I think I will look at adapting one of my books as a screenplay, but after I’ve published more books in each of the series.

 

A whole new look for the Charity Deacon Investigations

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A new cover and a new blurb for Hubris.

They say curiosity killed the cat.

For Charity Deacon, a private investigator with a nose for trouble, it’s just a way of life.

She witnesses a car crash that hides a brutal murder. The police don’t talk to PIs, but maybe they’ll explain why the victim had a bullet hole in his head in exchange for the photos and video she collected right at the scene.

Her latest client is a young streetwalker named Val. She’s used to fending for herself, but her sister Emma has fallen into something big, and anyone who shows too much interest in this particular business is liable to catch a sudden case of death. She needs the help of a pro, and soon, or Emma may not be survive to be rescued.

Both are connected to the seedy underworld of Vancouver. As Charity traces each lead with Val in tow, they get closer and closer to the most dangerous criminals in the city – the Chinese gangs that like to kill anyone who gets too curious about them.

Good thing Charity has nine lives

A New Cover for Compulsion

Compulsion gets a new cover and blurb!

In the land of the blind…

Quinn Larson kept the Real Folk hidden, but the cost was more than any man should bear. The ex-fairy queen Fionuir has been exiled, but not before her magics disabled him. And Cate – the friend who he hoped would become something more – is dead, the victim of a demon whose origin remains a mystery.

Now, he has to contend with losing his sight and gaining an apprentice, while the Sidhe still weave their twisted schemes. Lionel once studied under Cate, and he wants revenge just as much as Quinn does.

But there are bigger events happening that demand his attention, and there are other people who need his help. Someone is stealing the babies and treasure of the fae for some sinister purpose. The ancient Druids have awoken, with an unknown agenda and lot of magical power at their command. The demon that killed Cate may have been summoned by a group of clueless Goth teenagers, who could hurt themselves as much as anyone else. Once again, it falls to Quinn to find the solution to every problem, and prevent a meltdown among the magical races.

One inescapable fact remains, however.

If a wizard would fight, he must be able to see.

A New Cover for Imperative

Imperative has received a new cover and a new blurb on Amazon!

PRAISE FOR IMPERATIVE

“If you’ve read and liked Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files and you have a thing for Celtic fae mythology, this should already be in your shopping cart.”

Imperative is a fantasy story about power, scheming, and the lengths that someone will go to in order to get what they want.

IT STARTED WITH A MURDER.

Quinn Larson is a wizard. His life in the hidden world of the Vancouver Real Folk is one of study and socializing, and he’d prefer if it stayed that way. One unfortunate night, however, he witnesses a human’s death at the hands of a fairy, and it becomes clear that all is not well among the magical races.

One dead human is a problem, and three is something he can’t ignore. Neither can the human authorities, and the last time the Real Folk came this close to being exposed, it caused a genocide that washed away a part of all their magical power. Someone has to make the murders stop and avert the attention of the police, or they may face much worse than death, and that task falls to Quinn.

But why are the fairies killing humans? Why are the beautiful, immoral, power-hungry Sidhe involved? Quinn will need all the help he can get to figure it out – help like Olan, a pixie with an unfortunate case of feathers; Princess Elizabeth, the leader of the rose fairies; Cate Witherspoon, a witch that he’s never been able to stop thinking about. For all their sakes, he has to find the answers before the body count gets much higher. But as his enemies rise to stop him, Quinn is left with a terrible question.

How much would you sacrifice in the service of the greater good?

I see stories – Venice without a boat

I liked the idea of these barges in Venice. Having your grocery store come to you is way better than getting groceries delivered.

Phillip is coming to dinner. It will be our third date, an important milestone and I need to wow him in the kitchen. In Vancouver I would have gone to Whole Foods, or to the Granville Island market for ingredients. Here, in Venice, we don't need to go to a specialty store for healthy food. If this went badly, I could only blame my skills. The ingredients are always top shelf.

"A little of that," I say pointing to the dark green broccolini. "And, four of those." Red tomatoes would almost complete the Italian flag. A safe bet for food in this country of ardent Italians. If it isn't Italian, it isn't right, seems to be the motto, even here in Venice, a place that holds itself apart.

The white of the flag will come from the beautiful buffalo bocconcini. It will start with the cheese sharing a plate with thick slices of the tomatoes. I will scatter basil around the plate and drizzle it all with a good olive oil. The broccolini I'll saute with more olive oil and some garlic. The boar sausage I picked up yesterday will go nicely with that. And dessert, well I hope that will be me.

I hand over the money to the owner of the boat. We exchange pleasantries and I walk away. Tonight I will seduce a man with my cooking. Something I would never attempt at home. Something I would only try in Venice, city of mystery and romance.

I see stories – time traveling without a map

When I was looking for images for the cover of Imperative I spent some time down in Gastown. This picture didn't make it to the cover, but it did inspire this story.

Some people avoid this kind of place. An alley in the center of a city. Dark, a little smelly, and cold – bone sinking cold. Not me, at least during the day – even I was nervous entering at night.

But right now, the only way I was going to get home, was to slip in and find the portal. I knew it was there, well to be perfectly honest I had enough evidence to be sure. Others had traveled through time and back from this location. So, it was going to be here. I needed it to be here.

You'd think time travelers would have a system. And, I'm sure they do. The thing is I was shanghaied into this time. Ten days ago – as time passes here – I felt a hand grab my collar and then next thing I knew I was falling from a ledge onto a sandy beach with a note in my pocket that led to the next portal.

It was 2043 before I started time traveling, and now it is 2012. I've been through ten portals hoping to find my way back. No one told me why, or gave me a task. I met one other traveler in a Beijing noodle house in 1935. She was coming out of the portal I was waiting for – number 1. She said we were part of the big game. Someone was betting on us making it back. Only a few would make it before the last portal closed. She said, she'd been time traveling for six months and was seriously thinking of just staying put if she found a time she liked.

Since then I'd met other travelers, we'd exchanged information and suggestions and wishes of luck. One of them told me about this one in Blood Alley.

I found the latch – a loose screw in the door. I waited for it to form, a swirl of light that kind of sucked you into the next time zone. There was a roar of frenzied cheers and I briefly considered stepping away. The portal pulled and I fell toward the sound.

I see stories – Voodoo Queen

When I went to New Orleans – pre Katrina – there were a few things that stood out for me. The swamp tour, the cemetery and the voodoo.

I'm back. Thanks, Marie voodoo queen. Even from beyond the grave you give your believers everything they need.

See that little X just above the purple. Remember when I asked you for my man back? Of course you do. You gave him to me – last month. He came to my door.

I am thankful, don't get me wrong. I just wish I hadn't killed him. You know, he was always leaving his docks and towels on the floor. Used to drive me nuts. Now it's finger and toes. I guess he'll run out of bits soon.

Anyway, you did what I asked and I've done what I promised. Came back and thanked you.

 

I see stories – the final step

I guess I don't need to tell you where this picture was taken. I'm kind of proud of the artsy effect, but then my standards are pretty low for my own picture taking.

I'm standing here finally at the base of the most romantic location I could get to. This is the last step in a long series of steps I never thought I would take.

Like step one. I would have put money on the fact that I would never move to a big city like San Fransisco. I was a confirmed small town girl until I won the trip, but as the hotel shuttle approached the city, I felt like I'd come home.

Then step number two. I was lonely. Yes, I was luck to get a great job, but I had no friends to hang out with. The phone calls to my old buddies didn't get the job done. So, I signed up for an on line dating service.

I'm sure you can guess the next steps. Multiple dates that didn't feel right; either they were wrong for me, or I really worked at being wrong for them.

That is until Rafe sent me an invitation. Step number three. I had never been to a gallery opening. I hated it, but something clicked with Rafe.

Now, he was waiting for me at the top of the tower. I imagined him looking down and seeing me in the line up for the elevator. Then we were clanking our way to the observation deck. My heart was beating hard enough to make me want to throw up but I managed to hold it together as the elevator made it to the top. The doors opened. I stepped out. I looked around, Rafe wasn't standing in front of the elevator. I'd pictured him there with a dozen roses and a smile just for me.

I followed the crowd around the observation deck but there was no Rafe.  I knew it was too good to be true for me. I couldn't go back down right away. I didn't want to imagine my fellow passengers feeling pity for me. I know, it's not all about me but it sure felt like it.

I went to the edge to look out over Paris. The view was fuzzed out by smog; another disappointment.

"Madame, are you expecting to meet Monsieur Rafael Albert?" The words came from a middle aged man in  a trench coat. Behind him stood two other men in uniforms.

"I am," I said. I'm not good at lying.

The two uniformed cops moved to stand beside me. "Please, come with us."

–:) –

Okay so I did try to make it nice and romancy, but it's just not in me.

I see stories – The waiting before night

Today's picture was taken by a friend in Tuscany. That year we were all playing with the different features on our digital cameras.

Sonia stepped closer to the edge of the hill, as if a few feet would make the difference. As if it would show her evidence his return any faster.

The heat no longer pressed on her from above, but radiated up from the baked earth. Colors now just layers of beige in the still time before evening.

If he came now, she would sleep easier. There would be no need to worry that the phone would ring, or a knock would come. No need for the anxiety that had haunted her since he left. Or, to be more specific, since the last time she'd seen him. Because she hadn't known that he left. Only realizing she was alone after a couple of days.

He must have walked, the car and the motorcycle were both still parked in front of the stack of cut logs. Walking would have taken him hours to get anywhere – that's why they'd moved here after all – if only she'd thought to look earlier.

Now, a year later she still spent her evenings looking for movement on the road that heralded his return. That would end this loneliness. That would give her the opportunity for revenge.

 

I see stories – caldera

The picture in today's post was taken from a helicopter tour on the Big Island of Hawaii.

I was screwed. The sky diving lessons if I was going to land in the lava on my first solo jump, the money wasn't well spent on lesson.

Not that landing in a pit of molten core was okay on any jump, but on the first it was going to be a real bummer. Alice would post the video on Utube and I wouldn't be there to see it go viral.

It's not as if I didn't understand the risks, that's a big part of the fun. Maybe I misjudged the additional risk of having a jump coach who was hot for my girlfriend. I mean really, who lets someone jump out of a plane this close to the volcano? Maybe if I pull on this cord, I can land far enough away that I can walk out. I'm sure that jerk is not planning to rescue me.

Okay, that worked a bit, but I have no idea how close I can get and still not burn up in a horror story classic ending. Oh, crap. The heat from the caldera is melting the lines. Oh, not just the lines, the damn parachute is going. And now I'm dropping an anvil on a Roadrunner cartoon.

I hope Alice at least posts a link on my Facebook page.