2.19.2012

GYPSY: 1 House Of Chimps 9

Below the opening segment of the long thought of Elvis script.  As mentioned HERE there is a strange painting -- this segment ends with its discovery.  This is rough draft work.  A puzzle piece.  The first attempt at putting  a nine minute opening segment together, introducing the person, place, and thing; the King, Graceland, and the painting that shouldn't be there.

2.14.2012

GYPSY: Coming This Week



9 PAGES of a movie script are here.  Waiting to be pasted and posted.  The first segment of the "Elvis thing".  Just not today.  Still very soon.  This week.  
The 9 pages fall in line with the ORIGINAL PITCH, (read it here).  I promise when this 9 page opening posts, you will find within it a familiar rock star, a Memphis Mafia, and a very odd painting found in a very Graceland-like compound.  There will be, as promised, girls, drugs, pistols, and ice cream sundaes.
As for tonight, find a Valentine, and love them tender.

2.12.2012

KYDD TALENT: Whitney Houston - Mitt Romney - Call of Duty Cheats

Stevie Kydd -- Kydd Talent Associates

See how easy it is.  Greetings.  I'm Stevie Kydd, KYD TALENT -- Agent to the Blogs.
I'm here to fulfill a promise I made to take this blog to THE NEXT LEVEL!

2.11.2012

SCRIBD: The Hinterlands

(in case one wants to read the story The Hinterlands in format, rather than pasted into a blog post, it's up on Scribd, here)

2.09.2012

PITCH: Sh*t On A Shingle

Maybe I'm crazy, but I think this would be a successful restaurant.
Shit On A Shingle, a low-down hillbilly lunch-counter.

2.07.2012

STORY: The Hinterlands

(This story was written last year, and is modified from the first chapter of a longer work.  I tried it as a contained story to send out to story contests this last Fall.  In retrospect I agree with the rejections: not good enough.  But I do think this is close.  It takes place in Rockland, and is full of doped-up clamdiggers, and dead girls.)
Here a taste:
"My cell phone rings.  Not a good number.  Clam-diggers.  Clam-diggers who don't dig for clams much anymore, what with dope.  These are mud-folk from South Thomaston, come up South Main with a notebook of drug debt.  They always look for you on payday."

(the story BELOW)