SANDBOXING LIFE!
By Craig Kellem

Was it a lifetime ago or just a couple of long months since I sent you all this
little note?

" Hi Folks-just to let you know that we're giving up the nice country view here
in New Hampshire and trading it in for a NYC skyline view, from across the
Hudson River in New Jersey. We feel it's a good trade and we're happy to be
going back to an area where we spent good years in the past."

Well, I'm happy to report that we've made it to our new life. And so far, it's
pretty darn good even though folks did question why we would leave our idyllic
country nook.

One writer put it this way, "New Jersey instead of New Hampshire. What's next ,
Detroit!!"

He's wrong but that's not what this article is about. It's about the ordeal of
actually getting here. In fact, living here may be the easy part compared to
the move itself.

Our regular readers know how much we emphasize conflict, jeopardy, obstacles and
angst, as it pertains to effective screenwriting, and there was absolutely no
shortage of these elements in this transition. So I couldn't help but see this
trek, and all that came with it, as a source of effective material!

And seeing it all through a screenwriting prism reminded me of years ago when I
was hot to be a writer. Always seemed that I was overflowing with experiences I
thought would work well in scripts. But I couldn't collect them fast enough
since I was often worried that, like trying to catch elusive butterflies in a
net, they would be lost forever if I didn't capture them immediately on paper
and such. But it's hard to constantly stop and record such things. How I
struggled with doing it "right."

I didn't realize at that time that the actual source of "material" was endless
because, good or bad, I seemed to feel and notice everything. Even as a naive
youth, ideas were always abundant. Sure, there were things to record and
remember, but after the realization that I'd never lose who I am, I could at
last trust that my repository would always be full of (hopefully) rich veins if
I needed them.

The move we recently made is a case in point re this creative stimulation and
mounting source of material. There were so many situations, incidents,
anecdotes, and emotional moments that we experienced that I thought one could
almost create a legitimate basis for a film here.

So, in that spirit, here's a list of a few of the incidents and situations that
could be used in this type of creative effort. I'M DOING THIS TO SHARE THIS
PROCESS WITH FOLKS.

Let's start off with the very worst moment. After all pain almost aIways makes
it to the final cut!

THE DISASTROUS BONFIRE. My wife hadn't been filing our bills and personal papers
etc for years, which was always a kind of never ending issue with us. They were
stashed here and there...mostly...there. So, as we started to pull things out of
closets, these files and boxes began to show their unwelcome selves en masse
much to her absolute horror. I must admit that I was somewhat amused about this
moment of truth, and couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of putting them
ALL IN ONE HIDEOUS PILE, looking forward to a kind of Ralph Kramden moment,
" Take a good look at it Alice!" etc etc.

She threatened to attack me while I was sleeping if I uttered another word on
the subject!

Ok the devilish temptation passed but, the odious pile continued to grow and
just wasn't going away! What could we do with it all? I mean, in this age of
identity theft, you're not supposed to just throw stuff like this "as is" in a
dumpster, so that option was out. Way too much stuff to rip up by hand and the
clock was ticking loudly, we had heaps of other things to do. It would take
weeks to dispose of all this via our pathetic little paper shredder. What an
annoying dilemma.

So, in a moment of desperation, I had the bright idea to burn it all. What a
comforting image this was. And did we ever have a fine spot in our field for our
glorious "spring" bonfire...in..um... December. So going with this notion,
seemed very tempting. What fun it would be to watch the unwanted mountain of
crap explode into a mass of beautiful healing flames.

But was it going to be a problem that it was 15 degrees outside with a whole lot
of snow on the ground? Hey, I surmised, I've seen plenty of folks around the
area burn stuff in the winter. In fact it could even be considered a somewhat
macho type activity that perhaps I was just about ready for.

Secretly still being a bit of a wuss though, I decided to hedge my bet by
calling, Jed, a young guy who works at the local dump, and ask him if he could
" help me." Jed's definitely a real man type, and if anyone could build a bonfire
in the snow, he could. So, after out- negotiating me as usual, the big day
arrived when we were finally going to rid ourselves of this unwanted litter.

How soothing it all felt.

Be careful what you wish for!

I got the first of many sinking feelings as I watched Jed prep the fire. Why
wasn't he boring a space to the bottom of the pre-existing pile of brush,
clearing a good area and taking dry wood and starting a regular pyramid type
fire that would eventually gain strength, and then spread, creating a massive
cauldron of flames.

Hey he was the expert. Just let it happen, I told myself.

But would his method of using a little kerosene and a bit of kindling really do
the trick? The answer was to be a resounding no.

Moods darkened swiftly.

Long story short, the fire was pathetically ... pathetic.

Did I mention that it was freezing outside, 15 above that seemed like 15 below
and getting colder by the minute?

I still rationalized, that maybe something good would eventually happen. This
hope was soon overtaken by my mounting and predicable irritation at my wife for
creating this mess to begin with and this inflated resentment was exacerbated
when noticing, as we tried to crumple the papers and throw them into the "hot
part" of the fire, that we kept missing it (by a mile) and so the papers started
blowing every which way for all to see in perpetuity. It didn't help at this
point that poor Jed couldn't stop himself from occasionally glancing at these
most personal papers. In fact, on further observation, he was reading them with
the scrutiny of an accountant. It got me crazy!

What a disaster this was becoming.

It only got worse!

The moment soon arrived when the futility of the enterprise was painfully
apparent. Jed wisely found reason to flee the premises and now it was just the
two of us again...and our indestructible cache of...our now most hated records.

If you were a smoker, you could've hardly lit a cigarette with the remaining
" flames."

Oh, how bitter defeat tasted as we accepted the inevitable and ended up having
to re-box what was left, which was most of what we had started with, schlepping
the papers back into the house, but not before falling a couple of times in the
snow.

Script junkie that I am however, I couldn't help thinking that despite this hour
of misery and defeat, it would make a good scene! And, awful as everything that
followed was, I couldn't help but think that the whole damn experience might
just make a good concept!

CONCEPT-A LIKEABLE FAMILY DECIDES TO TAKE A CHANCE IN THEIR LIVES AND, AGAINST ALL ADVICE, MIGRATES FROM NIRVANA, BACK TO THE CITY FROM WHENCE THEY CAME. BUT IT WON'T BE EASY. AS THEY SOON FIND OUT JUST THE ACT OF MOVING ITSELF CAN THREATEN TO RUIN THEIR LIVES.

Here's how I'd start "sandboxing" it-ie: assembling scenes, ideas, character
bits, building an inventory to see if this idea wants to fly (without yet
connecting the dots).

BACKSTORY
Flashbacks to the selling period, when it was so strange to have to STAGE your
house by, (among other things), removing the now seemingly hurt stares of your
dear relatives (in photographs of course) which the broker said would make
prospective buyers "uncomfortable."

ALSO
The odd moment when the realization hits you that the only thing worse than
having too much stuff is when that "too much stuff," is out of the closets and
out of the drawers and totally in your face.

CREATIVE OPPORTUNITIES
Rage montage of horrible inconveniences never anticipated such as the depressing
tyranny of clutter and endless items in the attic that you still can't find it
your heart to toss out.

MORE SURPRISES
Too many trips to give away goods to charity. Now they see you coming and shades
are pulled down; doors suddenly get locked. They're sick of you!

ACT BREAKS
The shocking revelation that "great" idea you had about MOVING YOURSELF was
equivalent to doing your own dental work! Now you have to find somebody to move
you and find him fast. How about a scene with the last minute mover who knows he
has you by the short hairs.

THE USUAL THINGS THAT GO WITH SELLING YOUR HOUSE THAT YOU'LL HAVE TO WRITE IN A
HOPEFULLY UNIQUE WAY.
Be careful what you wish for, you have an offer and you now have to decide for
sure. House sells, time is set, things are falling apart exponentially. Things
go from bad to worse in the marital relationship.

RUNNERS
As each aspect of the logistics ensue, the dog becomes more clingy and
obsessive. He even contracts a canine version of conjunctivitis and needs
medication caused by...stress.

AND
The ongoing tyranny of technology which, at every turn, from DSL setups, to
opening doors electronically, confounds you. A desperate moment when, after
waiting days for the Verizon guy (and feeling crazed as a result), you stalk an
innocent Verizon repairman on the street (who is there for someone else). He
instinctively seems to realize that his resistance to your forthcoming plea will
not be as great as your ferocious demand for immediate help. (Would make a good
payoff at the end of the scene when he doesn't have a clue on how to fix it and
now you're both upset and frustrated).

SURPRISES
Christmas is soon ignored. You become so stressed out that even the kiddies
around you get stiffed. Showing up with zilch will definitely make an auspicious
start to the new life and a darn good scene. Or shopping at the last minute and
presenting "desperation gifts" could work nicely as well.

ANOTHER
A corny moment when you make it over to Hoboken and sit in a diner where the
house gimmick is five cent jukebox tunes and you can't avoid the temptation to
play Frank Sinatra's "New York, New York." And you suddenly realize that you're
staring directly at the Hudson and the majestic New York skyline and feeling
like such a schmuck for tearing up while stuffing your face with sausage links
and potatoes.

YET ANOTHER
Your wife stands in hoarding son's room (he's conveniently off on a LONG trip)!
As she gazes at the mess she sadly and hopelessly utters "everything he's ever
owned is still in this room." At that moment she spots a long forgotten ten
dollar bill in his drawer. She seizes it savagely crumples it into a ball and
plunges it into her pocket while uttering"AND I'M KEEPING THIS."

And then of course there's the unexpected Nor' Easter that hits as the final
whooping, after your careful negotiation with your wife to leave in December to
avoid the snow!!!

I'm sure you get it by now. Whomever said "write what you know" was on to
something.

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