Writing Male and Female Characters: Why We Need More Women In The Writers Room

Recently, Wil Wheaton posted an article about the fact that Gillian Anderson was bothered by something. The fact that the writing team for the X-Files was all male.   Here is the link to the article. While this is indeed annoying, it is actually quite common. Despite the fact that Hollywood has called for change, little change is happening, and the status quo is still in effect. This could create a problem however. The issue being that the show has a team of men who are writing both male and female characters. There’s nothing wrong with men writing female characters. The issue is that there is a “team” of writers, and yet there is no room for even a single female writer on that team, meaning there is no true female representation or perspective. Writing for the opposite gender can be difficult. I’ll give you a few examples from myself that are interesting to consider.

As a writer who does not have a team, I cannot really and truly understand the male perspective. I have written male characters; many of them, but I am not an expert on maleness. For example, when writing a book that should be out this winter called Dragon Fire, Angel Light. Both of the main characters are male. In fact they’re males who love each other and have chosen to be together despite the fact that both are a bit supernatural and it creates issues. When writing the characters, while I can make the males male, some of their mannerisms and things that they say aren’t exactly the most male. There are quite a few instances in which the characters engage in what would be considered “mushy” behavior.  They will come straight out with the “i love yous” and the “I want to look in your eyes” when having sex (oh golly). They have no qualms about calling each other “my love”, “my lover” using terms like “making love” instead of just “doing it”. It’s all very romantic, but is it male? The fact is, I don’t really know because I’m not male.

Another example is my book Tales of the Driss, Krystal Dragons. It’s a fantasy novel based off characters and actors that have influenced and inspired me (thank you Dean O’Gorman and Aidan Turner). These guys aren’t lovers, they’re brothers, but even with their lovers, they don’t act very male. They have long conversation about how much they love their lovers after sex, they wax romantic when they’re asking their lovers to marry them, once again coming straight out with the “I love yous”.  They talk constantly about the merits of love and how it’s effected them. I don’t know if this is especially male either. Do men often go off on romantic mush fests? Do they just lie in bed and talk about how much they love their lovers after sex? Once again, I couldn’t say.

Screenplay Harold Godwinson has gone through many incarnations. and many drafts, however, the story has always stayed the same. So the relationship between Harold and his consort Edith has always been the same, and they face the same issues. An over romantic man driven more by feeling than by power, gain or perhaps even reason. Instead he’s more invested in justice, happiness, and caring. which is, once again not very manish, of so it would seem. One would think that the second most powerful man in Britain would be mad for the power that he could claim for himself, going forth on his own conquests and calculating his possibility for advancement. That’s not the way he’s written because when I looked at his life, that’s not the way he seemed. A man writing for this character might have seen the more calculating man in search for power. I did not. He loves his consort, he loves his land, he’s not out for himself, he’s looking out for everyone else, which may or may not be very male.

There are many stereotypes that still exist when one writes female characters. This may be because that is how women have always been portrayed to men. Seeing as history and many of the great works from the past were written by men, the male perspective may have overshadowed some of the truths about women. Throughout history, women have always been cast in certain roles. The two most classic being the fool and the seductress, or sometimes even both. If we look at the Bible, there is the story of Adam and Eve. There is Eve who is the first one seduced in the garden to eat the fruit which makes her the fool, and then she convinces Adam to eat the fruit as well, in a way seducing him into doing so. No one considers the fact that the second hand information given to her from Adam about the Fruit may not have impressed the danger of eating it. There is the story of Pandora who just couldn’t resist opening a box because, you know, the curious woman. There’s the story of Samson and Delilah, the seductress who betrays her lover through seduction and lust, and there’s the fallacy that Mary Magdalene was a whore. If we can break the stereotypes, then we can write better women. And who is the best at understanding women and the stereotypes applied to them? Women.

While it’s not a bad thing for men to write female characters; some female characters are wonderful, powerful, beautiful, and non-stereotypical. They’ve been written by great authors like Ibsen, Tolkien Hardy and so many others. However it’s also not a bad idea to have a woman to at least help better understand women and how women think, act, interact. And when you can have a team of writers, I’m sure that there’s room for at least one woman. Women need to be heard, as the female voice is just as important as the male voice, especially when a woman can write a woman for women. She wants the same opportunities that male writers get. She’s just as good, just as creative, just as interesting, and has the added bonus of being a woman. This also applies to people of color, but that’s a discussion for another time. Maybe next blog. Women want a chance to write. If Hollywood gives it to them, Hollywood won’t be sorry.

 

Thoughts on “Logan”

*I shall attempt a no spoilers post*

I recently went and saw the movie “Logan” which is the last film in the Marvel film series about the X-Men (or so it would seem).  I must say that as a person who has found just about every Marvel movie annoying since the original X-Men series, I was very pleased with this movie.  While all of the X-Men films, and Marvel films in general, have been the same special effects driven, generic movies, “Logan” had a a gritty, real world feel to it that made it far more engaging than the usual superhero movie.

That is because Logan (played by Hugh Jackman) is one of the few characters from the original films that is still a mutant and still has powers. However it becomes clear very early in the movie that his powers are waning, and he’s not the paragon of strength that “Wolverine” used to be. He’s looking old, his scars are showing, his eyesight is failing, he limps like a man whose worked too hard and is in his sixties, and his wondrous healing powers that had seen him through so much are disappearing. He also seems to be extremely depressed. After years of being something, he’s been reduced to a limo driver whose purpose is to drive around drunken idiots. He’s also taking care of his old friend, Professor Charles Xavier (played by Patrick Stewart) whose very old and suffering from Alzheimer. Logan has no choice but to watch as one of the most powerful minds in the world deteriorates into nothing. Professor X, on the other hand, is very aware that people are “just waiting for him to die.” Many older people experience this, which brings to Xavier a feeling of mortality as he realizes the restrictions of his brilliance brought on by old age.

The audience gets the feeling that Logan is about ready to give up. He’s carrying around an Adamantium bullet, the only thing that he knows that can definitely kill him. He’s realized that most of the purpose in his life has gone away, and he is ready to die. When he meets the little girl Laura, who has powers just like him, his will to live is renewed as he cannot help but love the child who becomes more than a little special to him.

Logan is a very interesting character to study, especially as he progresses through the series. When we first meet Logan, he is, indeed, a cage fighter in Canada, running away from a past he can’t remember and trying to avoid all human contact. This is probably because he’s trying to avoid getting hurt. He is very aware that if you care about anything, losing it means the potential for emotional pain. While he presents himself as a character with a massive chip on his shoulder who cares for no one, that doesn’t seem to be the case at all. In fact, he may be a loner, but he also has a big heart that is easily shattered by loss and pain. Throughout the series there are several deaths and un-requited love stories that he goes through.

What Logan’s attitude boils down to in the end is fear of loss, fear of pain, and possibly just a desire to not have to deal with that anymore. By the time we reach the Logan story, he has to be almost three hundred years old. In that span of time, one can be witness to more human tragedy than anyone should ever suffer. Some part of him probably longs for mortality, the release of death means the release from pain, which is probably why he carries that bullet around with him.

As Logan goes through the story, he realizes that he doesn’t have to kill himself. With his failing powers, he’s staring down mortality. And he realizes the limits of his strength just as any normal human would. The audience can tell that this brings him both relief and fear. But there’s one last thing he has to do. That he has to finish. And finish it he will, even if it ends him.

The movie “Logan” is all about endings. In some ways it is also about beginnings. There is the classic theme of passing the torch from one generation to the next. This is a theme that is as old as story telling as the old hero passes his sword to his child so that the child may carry on when he can no longer. It is also a story about how even heroes all fallible. Logan, who was once invincible, is no longer what he used to be. The mask of the hero is lifted to reveal a mere mortal. It is also about facing down fear, whether it be the fear of taking the risk and loving someone, or the fear of mortal limitations. All in all, it is perhaps the best film in the series.

Just like Deadpool, this movie is not really appropriate for children as it has it’s share of swearing and stabbing people through the head. However the violence in this movie is not a bad thing. It actually contributes to the story and the character as Logan, the Clint Eastwood cowboy type, carves his way to a difficult victory. In some ways it is like watching an old Western movie like The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, or a Chinese Kung-Fu film like The Blood of the Dragon where the hero doesn’t even fall down to die. Which in some ways kind of makes it a guy movie, but just about any X-Men fan, or action movie fan and sit and enjoy it. In fact it’s kind of nice that heralds back to that old action movie feel. The tone is both modern and nostalgic for those who have always loved action movies.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

Tales of the Driss, Krystal Dragons Now Available

 

After some adventures and trial and error in self-publishing, Tales of the Driss, Krystal Dragons is now available. I am hoping that readers of fantasy will now be able to enjoy it. It was one of the most interesting endeavors in my writing career as writing prose is not necessarily my forte. It is far easier for me to wrap my head around screenwriting, and even that is difficult at times. I felt the story of Kellen and Ferian had to be told. And since this book is the first book in a series of at least three the Driss and their fellow fantasy characters will be pulling at me for some time to come. Thank you for your readership of bot this blog, and hopefully, the book. The characters have been dancing through my head since I saw the portrayal of the characters Fili and Kili by Dean O’Gorman and Aidan Turner in The Hobbit movies. Now, Kellen and Ferian, the Driss brothers, have a world of their own. They hope that you will join them there. Thank you.

 

First Chapters from Tales of the Driss, Krystal Dragons

Here are the rewritten first chapters of Tales of the Driss. If you see an issue, please tell me.

 

1

Jerrick wondered where his brother was. He had sent his younger brother Kerrick out into the world to gather their people, the Driss who had been scattered by the Trow who had always hunted them. Jerrick had to remain in the North, in the country of Lunaris where he was King to their people after his Father’s death. But the High Laudriss, the ruling body of his people, had decided they wanted to gather their wandering brethren and fortify here in the North. This meant that they needed an envoy, a representative, and they had chosen Kerrick. Jerrick felt he had no choice but to agree with them. He had to remain here and maintain the security of their new Kingdom that was under constant threat by the Trow and Tresser, dark elves and their cousins who hunted Driss. He also had to guard against the other people of the world who did not trust the Driss due to their rarity and general misunderstandings. Driss were small and fair. Taller than gnomes, dwarves and Halflings, but shorter than men, elves, Trow and Tresser.

Kerrick was his little brother, and they had been through everything together. From the wanderings of their youth to their finally having found a homeland in Lunaris. The brothers had been born on the road and had witnessed many things and been through many hardships before they had come to this place. They had been hunted, chased, denied shelter by the other peoples of the world. Suffered from cold, hunger, near starvation. They had survived it all and come to Lunaris where they built their Father a palace from stone and wood. A simple fortress, but it was home to them.

Now, Jerrick was lonely as he sat at his desk, late one night, looking over books and papers, trying to find any words in the journals of his Father that would lead him to the Krystal Dragons. They were Krystaline statues of dragons, one rube, one jade, one opal and one sapphire. When brought together at the Krystal Fortress in the South, they created a shield that could protect the Driss from any enemy. That’s what Jerrick wanted. To return his people to their proper place in their own land. This place was home, but it was not the home of the Driss.

He sighed as he shuffled through one of his Father’s journals. The pages were old and falling apart. Any clue. Any clue at all would be helpful. The candle light was dim, and he was having a hard time concentrating on the pages he was looking at. His mind wandered back to Kerrick. He remembered that night in the kitchen when he had requested Kerrick go. It was quite clear to him. A night of victorious drinking after the defeat of their rivals the Trow who were trying to drive them out once again. The Trow were dark elves who lived under the earth and hated all other people, but they especially hated the Driss. They were alone in the kitchen that night. Sharing a brotherly moment, one of the last they would have for a very long time.

“Kerrick,” Jerrick said. “The council of the High Laudriss wishes to re-assemble our people.”

“Splendid!” Kerrick said. “And how do they propose we do that?”

“They wish to send an ambassador out into the world to gather them. They asked me to choose someone to send.”

“And have you made a decision?” Kerrick asked.

“Yes,” Jerrick replied. He looked into his brother’s dark eyes and said, “I have chosen you, brother.”

“What?” Kerrick said, astounded. “You want to send me?”

“Yes, I want to send you. I think it would be good for you to go out into the world.”

“Did you ever think for one moment that I wouldn’t want to?” Kerrick asked.

Jerrick thought about it. Then he realized that he hadn’t really thought about it. He just assumed that Kerrick would accept the assignment. “No, I didn’t think of that. Are you saying you do not wish to go?”

Kerrick gave a nervous laugh and said, “I don’t know. It’s a heavy decision to make. And you’re just kind of springing it on me. Have you told anyone else?”

“No.”

“Have you considered anyone else?”

Jerrick took a swig off his mug of ale. “No.”

“And you think I’m the best man for the job?”

“I think you’re the only man for the job. You’re a Driss prince, one of the last of the royal line! They will trust you, Kerrick.”

“Is this what you want?” Kerrick said.

“Yes. Will you do this for me, Kerrick?”

It was a bit unfair, Jerrick knew. He had given Kerrick basically no other choice. His brother nodded. “If this is what you want, then I will go.”

“You have my thanks, brother.” Jerrick said. “You have my thanks.”

Kerrick left soon after. They said goodbye to each other down by the gates to the city. There was a reluctant look on Kerrick’s face.

“You will be fine, brother,” Jerrick said. “I will see you again in a few months. Be careful when you are crossing through the lands of men. They cannot be trusted.”

“I will be careful brother.”

Jerrick looked up through the trees. He could see the blue sky and could feel the warmth of the sun filtering down through the branches. “It’s a beautiful day to start out,” he said. He hugged his brother hard. “Take care of yourself, Kerrick. Come back to me. What would I do without you?”

“Who knows?” Kerrick said with a smile. Then he turned from his brother and walked away into the wilds.

That had been some months ago, and Jerrick was beginning to worry. He shuffled through the journal pages. There was nothing. Why did his Father leave him no clues? Did the old King not want him to reinstate their people in the old fortress? It made no sense. His Father had been a complex Driss. Merrick never spoke about anything that happened before the Fortress had fallen. As far as the King was concerned, his life had started anew upon arriving in the North. He and his wife had lived happily in this palace built for them by their sons. When Merrick’s wife died, he soon followed after her. It was a common malady of Driss to follow a mate closely in death, whether it be a husband following a wife or a wife following a husband.

Jerrick had been fifty when his Father had died. At fifty he had just come of age. However, he was ready to take on the reins of the kingdom. He just wished that he had someone to share that burden with. And now that Kerrick was gone…

There was a knock at the door. Jerrick wondered who it could be. It was well after midnight. “Come in,” he said.

The heavy wooden door opened and Wolfnoth, a younger Driss from the High Laudriss stepped into the study. He was a meek Driss, but a good friend. He always sided with Jerrick in the councils. He carried a candle with him and he looked like he was on his way to bed, he put his hand over his mouth as he yawned. He came and stood across the desk from Jerrick. “It’s very late, your Majesty.”

“Yes, it is,” Jerrick said.

“Do you have something on your mind?” The younger Driss asked.

“I miss my brother, Wolfnoth. I did not think I would miss him so much, but I do.”

“That is understandable, your Majesty,” Wolfnoth said. “I am sure he misses you as well.”

“Should I have sent him?” Jerrick mused.

“There was really no one else, your Majesty. The Driss will trust him. They will trust in his lineage.”

Jerrick smiled. “You are right, Wolfnoth. I shouldn’t worry so much. And it is well passed time to go to bed. I will find no Krystal Dragons tonight.”

Jerrick closed the journal he had been looking through and blew out the candle.

2

Kerrick had been out on the road for many months. He had passed through the lands of gnomes and men and had come at last, to the edge of the Broken Forest. He had heard rumors in the man Kingdom that he had recently left that Driss would sometimes pass this way. So he had decided to come to this place to see if it was true. What he found there amazed him. A Driss caravan full of men, women and children who seemed to have been camped there for a while. Their wagons were old, but they were still serviceable and seemed to offer the Driss enough shelter. They seemed well and happy. Still, It was Kerrick’s job to find out who they were and to try and get them to come back with him.

He went up to a Driss man who seemed to be in charge of the group. He was slightly taller than the others and had long dark hair and a roguish grin. Yes, he was the leader all right. Kerrick went to his wagon, where the Driss was lounging upon the high seat. “Excuse, me, sir,” He said to the Driss. “Are you the leader here?”

The Driss looked down at him with a smile. “Yeah, I suppose you could say that,” He said. “Name’s Anders. What can I do for you?”

“Well, Anders. I am Kerrick, son of Merrick. I have been sent by the King to gather you all.”

The Driss looked at him in astonishment. “You’re the son of the King?”

“Actually, the brother of the King. Our Father passed away some years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, you Highness. However, I don’t know if my people here would really like to be gathered. We kind of like our wanderer’s ways.”

“Where have you been wandering to?”

“Ah, we’d planned eventually to come to the North, but mostly we stay South of the Broken Forest. This is the first time we’ve been North of it for some time.”

“But why would you wish to keep wandering? We have a palace and a Kingdom in the North. What would keep you out here when you could come with me and be with others like yourself?”

The Driss pointed off into the forest. “On the other side of those tattered brambles is a place. The place that Driss are meant to belong. The Krystal Fortress. The home of our people, before we were driven from that place by the Trow.”

“Seriously?” Kerrick said. “The Krystal Fortress?”

The Driss nodded solemnly. He smiled at Kerrick again. “Would you like to see it? We can take you there.”

“That wouldn’t interfere with your plans?”

Anders shrugged. “What plans? We will go tomorrow. For now, you may sleep in our wagon, for you look as though you would take any roof over your head at this point.”

Kerrick laughed. “It has been a while. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“No worries.” Anders said. “Just a word of warning, though. Stay away from my sister. She’s not for you.”

“Your sister?” Kerrick said.

Anders pointed behind Kerrick. He looked to see several women sitting around a fire helping to cook the evening meal. However, he knew she was the one with the long red-gold locks and the sapphire eyes. He also knew that he wouldn’t be able to make Anders any promises. “Right…” He said. “Your sister.”

Kerrick had to admit that that night he didn’t know if he was thankful anymore for the roof over his head, as it put him in close proximity to a woman that was very clearly a Driss goddess, which now he thought was very unfair. That night, when everyone who was going to sleep got ready to do so. She came and sat next to Kerrick. She had a perplexed look on her face, as if there was something about him that she did not quite understand.

“Is there a problem?” He asked.

“It is your hair,” She said as she reached her hand out and touched it.“It is golden, like a womans.”

Kerrick frowned. “So people have told me.” He pushed her hand away. “Was there something else that you wanted?”

“You really live in one place?” She asked. “You do not move around, like we do?”

“I have not wandered for many years. My brother and I helped our Father build his Kingdom in the North. We lived with him there until he died. Now my brother Jerrick is King and I am his ambassador. He has sent me to gather our people.”

“Gather your people?”

“The Driss. All of us. We will be stronger if we fortify in the North, and then maybe, when we are truly strong, we can take back our lands in the South.”

“And what if we don’t wish to come?” She asked.

“If you don’t want to come? Don’t you wish for a home, a place where you can stay and won’t have to move from? Roots?”

“Trees need roots. People do not. They can carry their roots with them.”

“So I assume what you’re saying is that your people will not come with me?”

“You can ask the others when we meet with them at the crossroads. Some might, but my brother may not find it a good idea to join you in your…fortification.”

“There are others?” Kerrick asked.

“Yes. We should catch up to them in a few days at the crossroads.”

“Then I will ask them if they will come.”

“Alright.” She said.

She made ready to get up, but Kerrick stopped her. “May I know your name?” He asked.

She looked at him, and her sapphire eyes meeting his black eyes in the firelight. “I am Lusa.”

“Lusa?” He repeated. “Well, it is good to meet you.”

“It is good to meet you too, Kerrick, son of Merrick. Goodnight to you.”She left him and went to the trailer where the unmarried women slept. Kerrick, slept in the wagon with Anders and his young friends. It was a decent roof, but a little too close for comfort.

As they caravan made it’s way South, Kerrick ended up spending most of his nights wrapped in his blanket up on the wagon seat. Nobody bothered him or tried to talk him out of it. It was still warm, as it was late summer and there were still warm nights to be had. They reached the crossroads and found no one there. Perhaps when they returned, Anders suggested. They moved on to the South. Going around the forest was not the most expedient way to travel, but it was the safest, as only the elves knew the hidden paths through the forest.

It loomed in the distance, a tall jagged tower of stone. It was not fancy or extravagant, but it was a symbol of power. It was the Krystal Fortress, created thousands of years ago by Driss who knew the secrets of the Krystal Dragons. The statuettes of crystal, one Sapphire, one opal, one ruby and one jade that powered a shield that covered the fortress and all the surrounding lands. That was what used to keep the Trow and Tresser at bay. Now, the fortress stood empty. It seemed that the Trow and the Tresser had given up guarding it since the dragons had been lost and the royal Driss family had fled to the North.

Still, Kerrick could not help but go into that place. Search the empty stone halls, look at the items that had been left behind when the Driss had abandoned this place. See the skeletons of the ones that were unable to escape. This had been home to his Father and his Father before that. But Jerrick and Kerrick had never known this place. They were born as their parents traveled to the North. Still, it was sad. It seemed as though the halls were filled with angry ghosts. Ghosts that would stay there until their deaths and people were avenged.

That night, he made the royal suite his bed chamber. He had cleared off what had been the bed and had put his own blanket there, for the old bedding was rather rat and moth eaten. The bedchamber was on the top floor of the tower, so much could bee seen through the windows. The windows had no glass, they were open to the air. From the bed, he could look out and see the stars in the clear night sky.

Someone came and lay down next to him in the dark. At first, he was scared, but then he realized it was Lusa and he knew that it was safe. “What are you doing here?” He asked.

“I wanted to get out of that wagon. I have slept in that wagon for most of my life, and I just wanted to sleep somewhere else tonight.”

“Alright, but why with me?”

“Would you like me to leave?” She asked. She sounded a bit miffed at him, as if she really didn’t want to leave. Then part of him wondered if he really wanted her to.

“No,” He said. “Stay.”

She said nothing more. She lay by his side quietly and was soon asleep. Something about her being there with him perplexed him. What was it that she wanted? Anders had told him to stay away, but was that what he truly meant? He curled up next to her and went to sleep.

They camped in that place for a week, and each night she would come and sleep with him. He was becoming used to having her there. And soon enough, he expected her there. And finally, he was ready for her to do more than just sleep by his side. The night before they would journey back to the crossroads, they made love for the first time. It was that night that he realized that he loved Lusa. And it was clear to him that she loved him back.

On the journey back to the crossroads, they slept in different wagons again, because as far as Kerrick knew, no one knew about what they had done, which was probably for the best. When they finally reached that place again, Kerrick was amazed to find that there was indeed a gathering of Driss there. And not merely a small gathering either. There were probably a thousand Driss there all together. Men, women, children. All of them with their wagons and whatever they had to sell or trade. This was more than Kerrick could have ever hoped for.

As the Driss from Anders’s caravan began to disperse within the larger group to trade and conduct other business, Anders took Kerrick aside for a moment. “I assume this is what you were hoping for.” Anders said.

“Yes.” Kerrick said. “In fact I am surprised by how many there are.”

“There may be more still. We have not heard from our brethren who lay further to the Southwest and East. There may be even more than this.”

“I see.” Kerrick said.

Anders slapped him on the back. “Very good. Tonight we celebrate, for tomorrow is a most joyous occasion!!”

“What occasion is that?” Kerrick asked.

Anders gave a laugh. “Tomorrow, you marry my sister!!” He said. “What did you actually think we did not know?”

“I…”

“It is alright. She loves you. Or so she has said. But just know, if you hurt my sister, I will kill you myself.”

“Duly noted.” Kerrick said, somewhat shocked at the threat.

“Come brother. We celebrate!”Anders said as he pulled Kerrick into the gathering.

Tales of the Driss, Krystal Dragons Revamped Beginning

Hello!! I went though and I redid the beginning of this particular piece of writing and I wanted to know if it reads well, so I am going to go ahead and ask my friends and readers how it reads.  See anything amiss, let me know!! Thank you so much!!

1

Jerrick wondered where Kerrick was. While Jerrick had had to stay behind at the palace at a meeting of the High Laudriss, the leading council of their people, the Driss, Kerrick had gone off on a hunt. Jerrick had to admit, he was a bit jealous. As his father’s eldest son, he was obligated to care for his people as the man who was now their king, but he wished he had the freedom that Kerrick had. The current meeting was about the Trow, dark elves, and the Tresser who were their henchmen who had always hunted the Driss.

“Our scouts have informed the council that the Tresser have been seen Camping in the valleys just South of here. If they should come any closer to Lunaris…” Reger was one of the oldest Driss on the council of the High Laudriss. He was one of King Merrick’s most trusted advisers, and Jerrick had continued to trust him. “Our king led us to this safe haven in the North, away from the horrors of the Trow who have always made war against us. We would all be gone, if not for him.”

“And our good princes built his palace for him.” Said Wulfnoth. A younger Driss who was closer to Jerrick’s age. “We will not be driven from this place as well. If the Trow and the Tresser find us here, we will be done for.”

The other ten members of the High Laudriss agreed by nodding. “we must strike them first.” Reger said. “We must keep better watch and destroy any Trow or Tresser that come into the valley. This is our home!! It may not have the magic that once protected us in the Crystal Fortress, but it is strong, and we will not be driven out again!!”

“I will give the order to the guards and the scouts.” Jerrick said. Any Trow or Tresser seen coming into our domain must be destroyed. All must be killed. We cannot afford to lose what Kerrick and I have built here.”

“Of course.” Regen said. “Our king is young, but he is wise.”

Young? Jerrick did not think himself young. He was fifty-five, just had come of age five years earlier. He had two years on his brother Kerrick who was fifty-three. I suppose that is what young means, Jerrick thought. We are still young among our people.

Now to our second order of business.” Wulfnoth said. “We have decided to gather the rest of our people. I would ask that our king choose an ambassador to send out into the lands in order to gather our people back to us. We have been scattered by misfortune for too long. We must consolidate our kingdom and people. Who do you choose, your Majesty?”

Jerrick thought about it for a moment. Whoever he sent might be gone for a long time, as the Trow and the Tresser had spread their people thin. Who could he trust with such an important mission?

The door burst open and Fanna, the head of the guard came into the war room. He was dressed in his armor and had a grave look on his face. “Fanna, what is it?” Jerrick asked him.

Fanna bowed. “Your Majesty. We have received news that there is a band of Tresser camping up in the mountains, near to where your brother and his friends are hunting.”

“What?! How did this happen? How did they get past our defenses? I suppose that doesn’t matter now. Now we must go and save my brother. Bring my armor!!” Jerrick cried.

“Your Majesty, you cannot go with them.” Regen said. “You are king. We cannot risk our king on something such as this.”

“He is my brother. I must go to him.”

“Yes, he is your brother, but the risk is too great to our King.” Wulfnoth said urgently.

Jerrick decided that Wulfnoth was right. He looked over to where Fanna stood, still in the doorway. “Go. Bring my brother back to me.” He said and he sat down dejectedly in his seat at the head of the war room.

“I will, your Majesty.” Fanna said as he bowed once more and left the room.

“Carry on” Jerrick said to the councilors, thought he really didn’t care anymore what they had to say.

***

Kerrick loved his friends and, in all truth, he wasn’t much of a hunter, but he enjoyed being outdoors having a good time. He knew his brother Jerrick was a bit jealous that He had so much freedom, but Jerrick was king now, and his responsibilities were great. Plus Kerrick did not do this kind of thing very often. He wouldn’t pass up an opportunity though. He and Jerrick had spent so much or their youth wandering at first, and then when they had settled, they built their father a palace from which to rule. It wasn’t extravagant or anything. A simple building of stone and wood. Still, it was home, and they called it a palace because it was home.

Then, a few years ago, soon after Kerrick had turned fifty, their father had died. After that, he felt as though he was almost alone, as Jerrick was busy taking care of the palace and kingdom, and he was just…there. So the best thing to do was to get out, even if it were just for a little while.

The game seemed to be sparse that day, which was odd, because these woods always seemed to have something to offer. They had managed a few quail, a deer and a fox, but everything else seemed to have gone into hiding, as if they had disappeared. As they camped that night and cooked their quail over a fire, Kerrick couldn’t help but wonder why. “The game was sparse today,” he said to his friends. “That is unusual, don’t you think?”

“I suppose,” said Gen. “Then again, the season is changing and it will be Winter soon. They may have gone into their Winter hiding places?” Gen was slightly younger than Kerrick, and wasn’t much for hunting either.

“No.” Said Riin. “The forest seems to have emptied itself. Tat is very unusual. Not many things can have such an effect. As if they have been driven out.”

“Driven out?” Kerrick said. “But what could do that?”

“Evil.” Riin said. “They sense things that we don’t. Evil can have such an effect on them.”

“Evil…” Kerrick said. “You do not suppose that it is Trow?” He asked worriedly. If it were Trow, they would be in great danger out here in the open, as Trow could see and move easily in the dark, and the Driss could not. That was how the Trow used to conduct their massacres, Coming in the night and killing all they could while taking some and leaving only the grieving and wounded behind. A memory came to him, but he pushed it away. He did not wish to remember that right now.

“If it is, we are definitely in danger.” Riin said. He was an older Driss who came with the two younger Driss as chaperone. He knew all about the Trow and the Tresser. A scar down the left side of his face told an ugly tale of a dark encounter with them. “I think it would be wise to put out the fire.”

“Agreed.” Kerrick said. “If they do come, at least they can see us less clearly and we can see them more, if our eyes adjust.”

“Keep your swords at the ready.” Riin said. We cannot leave this place tonight, it would be too dangerous to travel at night. But we might be able to defend ourselves if we stay here and keep our backs to each other.”

“Right.” Kerrick said worriedly.

The fire was put out, and all the three Driss could do in the dark was wait. Every sound, every snapping twig, or rustling leaf put Kerrick on edge. He stayed close to Riin, but knew that if they did come, it would be hopeless. And come they did, and hopeless it was. All he saw when they did was shadows, and the flashing of knives in the moonlight. Kerrick heard Gen scream, and knew he was dead. Then he himself was grabbed, and he was thrown against a nearby tree. The air was knocked out of him, and he had to regain it before he could do anything.

Soon he knew that Riin was gone too, and they came over to where he lay, and lifted him off the ground. His energy had not returned, and he was sure that a few ribs might be broken. When they lifted him, he just hung there, waiting for them to kill him. Instead, one of them ripped the brooch off his cloak. That brooch had on it their family crest. The Trow would probably know it. Apparently they did because, instead of killing him, they bound him and took him away into the night.

2

Kerrick woke to find himself in a cave that was lit by a fire. He was bound hand and foot, and his broken ribs made sitting upon the hard floor very uncomfortable. Still he had to do something, so he sat up and looked around the cave. There were about ten Tresser in there, and at least one Trow. Man, he assumed. It was sometimes difficult to tell due to the fact that both men and women had the same pale skin and ragged teeth, as well as the black hair. Trow lived in the earth, for the most part. They lived in great cities under the ground in almost complete darkness. Still that didn’t stop them from hating just about all of the other races, especially Driss.

When the Trow saw that Kerrick was awake, it came over to him. They all wore similar white robes and walked elegantly like normal elves, or so Kerrick was told, as he had never seen elves before. Still, this creature was elegant. It came and knelt down in front of him. It reached out its hand and ran it through Kerrick hair. “Light hair.” A distinctly male voice said. “That is unusual for Driss, isn’t it?”

“I guess.” Kerrick said. “I don’t really think about it, as it’s only hair.”

“You are a lovely thing.” The Trow said. “But I have only seen women with such a hair color.”

“Yes, well if you were looking for a woman, you’re out of luck.” Kerrick said defiantly. “Why haven’t you killed me?”

The Trow continued to play with Kerrick’s hair. “You’re not dead because I don’t want you to be dead yet.” It said. “Your brother is king, isn’t he? And I have no doubt that he’ll come for you.”

“What does it matter?” Kerrick asked, becoming annoyed at the handling.

“Well, If he comes for you, I can kill him and you and be done with the entire royal Driss line, now can’t I?”

“My brother is not that stupid. Someone may come for me, but it won’t be him. Now get your filthy hands off me, you piece of shite!!”

The Trow knotted his fingers in the blond hair and pulled at it savagely, causing the Driss to cry out. “He may not be stupid, but you are. So very, very stupid.” The Trow yanked at Kerrick’s hair viciously. “If I were you, I would shut my mouth.”

“You’re filth! Let me go!!”

The Trow gave Kerrick a hard back-handed slap to the face, causing the Driss to fall over sideways. The Trow then ripped a long strip from Kerrick’s cloak and wound it around his head, gagging him with it. It wound a bit of hair in it’s fingers and yanked it out, roots an all, causing Kerrick to cry out again. “Stupid Driss. I will rip it all out before you die.” The Trow then walked away and left Kerrick to his misery.

3

Jerrick had said he would not go, but he could not leave his brother’s rescue to anyone else. He had to rescue Kerrick, and he would. He had already found the bodies of Riin and Gen. Following the trail of the Tresser in the early morning light would not be hard, as the creatures had not even tried to hide their trail as they made their way through the forest. In some ways, they did not have to. They were holding a prince now and assumed that they would have no need to hide for long. When he rescued Kerrick, he would prove them wrong.

The trail led up into the hills, which was not surprising since there were caves in those hills, and it would be the most likely hiding place for the Trow and Tresser. The Trow spent their days living underground. While they could walk under the sun, the preferred not to, since the sun hurt their eyes. That meant that they would probably be in a resting state at this point since they had been busy during the night and the sun was bright that day. He just had to find the cave they were hiding in. He crept up the hillside, watching for any sign of movement. He had not brought his armor as he had intended. He knew if he was going to do this he had to be as stealthy as possible, and armor did not make for stealth.

Jerrick thought he was being very quiet as he made his way. He was just about to check out another cave when suddenly, he was grabbed from behind, a hand covering his mouth. He was pulled into the shadows behind a rock. He was turned to look upon the face of his captor and when he saw who had taken him, he was both annoyed and relieved. The hand was removed from his mouth. “Fanna.” He said. “I am glad to see you.”

“I’m sure you are. And I am unhappy to see you. What are you doing out here, my King?”

Jerrick was embarrassed and still somewhat annoyed as he straightened himself up. “I had to come. Kerrick is my brother, my responsibility.”

“No.” Fanna said. “Your Majesty, you brother is our responsibility. You know I would have taken care of this. Do you not trust me? Do you think so little of my abilities?”

Jerrick shook his head dejectedly. “No, I do not doubt you, Fanna. However, Kerrick and I have always taken care of each other. I could not leave him out here.”

“I understand, your Majesty.” Fanna said. “Anyway, it’s too late for you to turn back now. We are almost upon them. There is a crack in the hillside some way above us. I believe that is where they are. I will scout it out. When I return, we will formulate a plan, and we will go in and get him.”

“That sounds good to me.” Jerrick said.

“I will be back soon.” Fanna said as he made ready to leave. “It shouldn’t take long. Wait here for me.”

Jerrick nodded and Fanna was off.

***

Fanna returned a short time later with news. He sat down behind the rock beside Jerrick. Jerrick was anxious to hear what the older Driss had to say.

“They have your brother and he still lives. He seems to have suffered some pain, but not so much as to incapacitate. Still, getting him out of there will not be easy. The cave houses about ten Tresser, and at least one Trow. It is well guarded so devising a plan may be difficult.”

“What are your thoughts then?” Jerrick asked worriedly.

“I have thought of a plan, but it poses much risk to you.”

“What is it?” Jerrick asked.

“That I lure them all out somehow, and while they are out of the cave, you sneak in and free your brother.”

“You’re right, that’s a slightly insane plan. However, it could work. Would it be better if I did the luring?”

“The purpose of luring is to get the majority of those you lure to follow you. It would be too dangerous for you. But if I can get most of them out of the cave, that would leave fewer of them to fight when you get in there. Also the chances that my men will catch up to me as I lead them on are good. It is safer for you to sneak in. Do you have anything bearing your royal insignia?” Fanna asked.

“There is a crest on my waist-coat I do believe.”

“Really? That’s an odd place for it.”

“My mother made this waist-coat for me for my fortieth birthday. She was very proud of me. She died not long after that. And my father died. Driss can barely stand to lose their mates sometimes. Their mates cling too closely to their hearts and when one goes, the other feels as though they must follow.”

“Yes.” Fanna said. “I know this. We Driss are very…” He searched for a word. “Romantic?”

Jerrick lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “Romantic?” He said as he began to take his jacket off. “I never would have thought that we were romantic. Still, I suppose it fits.” He took off the waist-coat and handed it to Fanna. The other Driss put it on.

“It is almost mid-day.” Fanna said. “This would be the best time to put our plan into action. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Jerrick said. He didn’t know if he meant to say that or if he was merely trying to appear brave. Still, he had no other choice. “Let’s go.”

Fanna made his way up the hill, and Jerrick was not far behind. Jerrick satyed hidden in the shadows as Fanna stepped in front of the cave opening and shouted. “I am Jerrick, son of Merrick!! Come and get me!!” Thankfully, it worked, and the Tresser took off after the Driss as he ran back down off the hillside. Jerrick went to the cave opening and peeked inside.

At first, he saw nothing. He did see where Kerrick lay tied up, but he did not see any Trow or Tresser. Jerrick tip toed into the cave, hoping that he was right and he would not find his enemy in there. He made his way over to where Kerrick lay, and tried to untie him, but he was grabbed from behind and thrown aside. Jerrick hit the wall hard as he was tossed across the room. It too a bit for him to regain his air. When he had, he looked up to see a Trow towering over him with his brother Kerrick in its arms and and a knife to the Driss’s throat. Jerrick tried to get to his feet, but the Trow kicked him in the gut.

“I suggest you stay down, my small friend. You will not be rescuing anyone.” Jerrick lay still as the Trow took a step back, holding his brother tightly, and the knife close to his skin. So close that a bead of blood was escaping from a small cut. “As you see, I have your prince. I just wait for my Tresser to come back with your king. Or maybe they were mistaken. Maybe this rat at my feet is a king and the other Driss was merely a decoy? Thinking is not something the Tresser do especially well. However I can see in you what I need to. The elegance, regality.”

Once again, Jerrick tried to get to his feet. He was able to, but he could make no move against this creature, not while it held Kerrick. Plus the creature stood about three heads taller than Jerrick. Driss were small people. Not as small as gnomes or halflings, but small, nonetheless. Kerrick’s feet were held high off the ground.

“Why are you doing this? Why have you even come here?” Jerrick asked.

“You know the answers to these questions.” The Trow said. “The Driss are an abomination that must be wiped from this world. We will do this.”

“We’ve done nothing to you, Trow. Please, just let my brother go and I will let you pass from these lands unharmed.”

“You and I both know that you can’t make that promise. I am sure you have already put in place laws that would see all of my people destroyed.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, really I don’t, but if you don’t put my brother down…”

“Your brother…He is a stupid Driss, but I have grown rather fond of him. I think maybe when I kill you I will take him with me and keep him as a pet.”

The Trow tossed Kerrick aside, the Driss landed with a thud on the hard rock below. The Trow lifted its knife and attacked Jerrick. Jerrick was just able to fend it off with a sword hastily drawn. But the Trow was strong than him and incredibly fast. He would not hold out for long against this creature. He dodged blow after blow, attempting to stay out of the way of the Trow’s blade, but he was finally struck in the left shoulder, and fell to the ground with a cry. With a triumphant look on its face, the Trow lifted his sword, ready for the death-blow. And then it stopped, mid-swing. The bloody tip of a sword protruded from its chest. The Trow dropped the knife and fell forward. its was dead.

Kerrick was the one who had struck the blow. He walked up behind the Trow and pulled the sword out of its back. “It’s so very wise of them to just leave weapons lying about.” Kerrick said with a smile. He helped Jerrick up.

Jerrick was pained, but he knew that they had to move. “We have to get out of here.” He said to his brother. Kerrick nodded and they ran from that place and waited for Fanna’s return. Fanna arrived soon after with reinforcements, and the knowledge that all the Tresser in the band had been killed. It was over.

Back at the palace, Kerrick sat with Jerrick in the kitchen. The two of them liked the kitchen because it seemed that it was so much more private than the banquet hall. They sat and ate together and drank and talked about everything. And then the conversation got serious.

“Kerrick.” Jerrick said. “The council of the High Laudriss wish to re-assemble our people.”

“Splendid!!” Kerrick said. “And how do they propose we do that?”

“They wish to send an ambassador out into the world to gather them. They asked me to choose someone to send.”

“And have you made a decision?” Kerrick asked.

“Yes.” Jerrick replied. He looked into his brothers dark eyes and said, “I have chosen you, brother.”

“What?!” Kerrick said, astounded. “You want to send me?”

“Yes I want to send you. I think it would be good for you to go out into the world.”

“Did you ever think for one moment that I wouldn’t want to?” Kerrick asked.

Jerrick thought about it. Then he realized that he hadn’t really thought about it. He just assumed that Kerrick would accept the assignment. “No, I didn’t think of that. Are you saying you do not wish to go?”

Kerrick gave a nervous laugh and said, “I don’t know. It’s a heavy decision to make. And you’re just kind of springing it on me. Have you told anyone else?”

“No.”

“Have you considered anyone else?”

Jerrick took a swig off his mug of ale. “No.”

“And you think I’m the best man for the job?”

“I think you’re the only man for the job. You’re a Driss prince, one of the last of the royal line! They will trust you, Kerrick.”

“Is this what you want?” Kerrick said.

“Yes. Will you do this for me, Kerrick?”

It was a bit unfair, Jerrick knew. He had given Kerrick basically no other choice. His brother nodded. “If this is what you want, then I will go.”

“You have my thanks, brother.” Jerrick said. “You have my thanks.”

Scenes from Harold Godwinson

Hello and thank you for reading. I have finally finished my screenplay, Harold Godwinson, and I thought I would share a few scenes with my lovely followers and people I thought might be interested. They are chronologically in order, but there are, of course, scenes that come before and after each of these. I will go ahead and give a little explanation. Harold is the son of Godwin who was the Earl of Wessex in Britain. When Godwin dies, Harold takes up the title of Earl of Wessex as he is Godwin’s second son and heir. In January of 1066, Harold was crowned King Harold II of Britain. His fate is legend and I wanted to bring his story to the screen.His encounters with William Duke of Normandy would shape the history of Britain as the Anglo-Saxon kings were laid to rest, and the Anglo-Norman kings began to rise with William the Conqueror.

Note:Formatting is hard to do in a blog, but the script is formatted as it should be.

The scenes are as follows. The first scene is with Harold as he is just getting to know his consort, Edith of Essex. He had to meet, and fall in love with Edith fairly quickly because their relationship is an important cornerstone that runs throughout the story.  I thought it was a good scene to lead with because everyone loves a love scene.  Harold and Edith had an interesting love story that will conflict with what must be done when he become king and must marry a suitable wife.

Scene 2 is Harold’s first encounter with William of Normandy. This is a very important meeting, for what happens here will very much shape how the story ends and the primary conflict for Harold once he is king.

Scene 3 Harold’s brother Tostig is the 3rd most powerful man in Britain after King Edward and Harold who is still Earl of Wessex. He has abused his privilege and has taxed the people to the point of rebellion. He is called on his crimes and looks to Harold for help.

Scene 4 King Edward the Confessor dies. It is up to the Witan to determine who the next king of England will be.

CURIOUS ABOUT WHO MIGHT BE IN THIS MOVIE? THERE IS A VIDEO AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PAGE WITH CAST SUGGESTIONS. THANK YOU!!

FIRST SCENE

Int. Chamber of Edith – Night

Edith’s MAID is helping to comb Edith’s hair. Edith wears her long white night gown. There is a large fire in the fireplace, and the large bed sits over not far to the side of that. The door quietly opens, and Harold steps in.

Harold

My lady…

The Maid stops her task, but Edith is not interested in Harold.

Edith

Continue. Pay him no mind.

The Maid continues on. Harold comes around in front of the fireplace and gazes into the fire.

Harold

I know our Fathers arranged this for their own purposes, but I am not the villain you would like to think I am.

Edith

I do not think you a villain. It is not you that I am angry with.

Harold

In all truth, I wasn’t thrilled about it either. But now that I have met you, seen you…

Edith

So where does that leave us? Will you simply take what you want.

Harold

I am not that kind of man. I could never do you harm. But if you would have me, I would be yours.

Edith looked to her Maid.

Edith

You may leave me now.

Maid

(rises and bows)

Yes, my lady.

The Maid leaves Edith. Edith rises and walks over to where Harold stands. They are silhouetted in the firelight.

Edith

And would you have me?

Harold

If it would please you, I would give you whatever I could. Anything. I would have nothing else but you.

He embraces her and they kiss in the firelight.

Int. Chamber of Edith – Morning

Harold holds Edith close as they lay together. He watches her for a moment as she sleeps and then kisses her forehead.

Harold

I will never love anyone as I love you.

SECOND SCENE:

INT. GREAT HALL OF WILLIAM – Day

William sits in his chair and Harold comes into the hall. He walks to the front of the hall and bows to William. The hall is littered with the ADVISERS of William, and at least two PRIESTS stand near the dais.

Harold

My lord, there is something we must discuss.

William

I know what you wish to discuss. You wish to discuss leaving my realm. We shall do so now.

Harold

My thanks, my lord.

William

Of course. But there is something I wish you to do for me first.

Harold then notices an ornate table, standing not far from the dais. He makes nothing of it though, as it is covered with a ratty old cloth and does not seem to be important.

Harold

What is it you would ask of me, my lord?

William

First, I wish to announce your betrothal to my dear daughter, Agatha. She will be a great wife to you.

Harold is taken aback, but does not see a way in which he can refuse.

Harold

(shocked)

Of course, my lord…

William

And next, an oath of loyalty and kinship, so that we may be joined in faith and friendship. Swear!

Harold does not answer at first.

William

Do you not wish to be loyal to me? To swear friendship and loyalty? A true man of noble blood would do so.

Again, Harold cannot refuse.

Harold

I will swear my friendship and loyalty to you.

William

Very good. And one final oath. When Edward the Confessor dies, you will recommend me as king to the Witan. Swear!

A hesitation.

William

Come now! This is part of your loyalty to me.

Harold

But I cannot promise such a thing. Nor can Edward. It is the Witan that will make the final decision.

William

Perhaps you are not as honorable a man as I thought. Perhaps your whole family are dishonorable. If that be so, then maybe the life of your brother is not that important, seeing as he is probably dishonorable as well.

Harold

(Angry and mortified)

You threaten my brother?

William

A life without honor is no life at all, and therefore, has no right to be. Prove yourself, and I will know. Swear that you will tell the Witan to choose me.

Again, Harold cannot say no.

Harold

I swear that I will recommend you as King to the Witan, and I swear that you will be the next king.

William rises. He goes over to the covered table.

William

That is very good of you, Harold, Earl of Wessex. However, both you and I know that an oath made under duress is one that is not required of one to fulfill. So I thought you should see what is in this chest. Come here.

Harold walks over to the table and William, who pulls the cover off to expose holy relics and the bones of saints.

William

You have sworn in the presence of holy relics. These are the bones of saints. To go back on your word now would be reprehensible.

Harold

(beyond angry)

You filthy deceiver! You have lied to me! You have deceived me. Your cowardly tactics do not make the oath any more enforceable!

William

No, I’m sure you will see that they actually do. One cannot go against God. It is he who holds this oath and will see it fulfilled. Do your duty, sir, or pay the consequences.

Harold

(angered)

Fine, I will do my duty, but at least let me take my brother home.

William

I don’t know about that. I have become rather fond of him, and he is quite useful to have around. You may leave, but he must stay. Good day to you, Earl of Wessex. Safe journey home.

William waved his hand, and Harold was led out by Guards.

THIRD SCENE

INT. PALACE THRONEROOM – DAY

King Edward sits upon his throne with Queen Edith by his side. On either side of him, lords are seated upon benches. On the kings right hand side are the old Lords of the Witan, and on his left hand side are the Thanes, and the representatives from across the lands. Before him stands a very well dressed Tostig, Morcar, Edwin and Harold.

King Edward

Tostig Godwinson, Earl of Northumbria. You have been called here to face allegations of abuse of your power at the expense of the people. What say you, sir?

Tostig

Abuse of power? The expense of the people? That is just not so, your majesty. I have done all in my power to care for the people.

King Edward

And the unjust taxes?

Tostig

A rumor, your majesty.

Morcar

Then why did your people ask us to step in and investigate? I think the proof of the allegations are clear. Those are hardly practicle and modest garments, Earl of Northumbria.

Tostig

(angerly)

And who asked you to come into my realm and spy upon me?! You are the one who was out of line.

Edwin

I think not! When people are about to rebel, it is our place to try and quell the violence.

Tostig

(smugly)

My people would never rebel. They love me.

Morcar

Yes indeed. They plan to love you to death. They say if you ever return to that land, they will kill you.

Tostig

A mere lovers quarrel.

King Edward

We shall see. What do the representatives and Thanes have to say of this?

The Thanes and others of the region give their testimony. In the end, there is no doubt. Tostig is clearly guilty and everyone knows it. Harold gives his brother a sad look.

King Edward

The Thanes and others have given their testimony. Lord Lerith, what does the Witan have to say.

Lerith is an old man with short white hair and a long white beard. He is saddened by what he has to do.

Lerith

My king. The Witan finds that guilt is undeniable. The Earl of Northumbria, Tostig Godwinson, is guilty of the crimes of which he has been accused. You may now pass judgement.

King Edward

Very good. Tostig, Earl of Northumbria. You no longer have a right to that title, and it will be handed over to Morcar of Mercia, along with your estate and all other holdings. You are banished. Leave now.

Tostig

(beyond angry)

Your majesty. You cannot do that. You cannot do that!

King Edward

(Also beyond angry)

Are you telling me, your king, what I can and cannot do in my own court?! Leave now, and do not return, or the punishment will grow worse for you.

Tostig turns to Harold.

Tostig

(desperate)

Brother? Will you not help me?

Harold

(sad)

The king and the Witan have spoken. I am sorry, Tostig.

Tostig

(Insane with anger)

How could you betray me like this?! My brother has betrayed me!I stand betrayed by my people, my family. All of you!

King Edward

GET OUT!!!

The king’s exertion in yelling causes a coughing fit, and he is taken by his wife from the throne room. Tostig stares Harold down for another minute.

Tostig

Believe me, brother, I will be avenged. And you will suffer for your disloyalty!

Tostig storms from the hall, leaving a speechless Harold behind.

FOURTH SCENE

Int. Bed chamber of King Edward – late day

Edward lies upon his bed, Queen Edith stands beside it, holding his hand and weeping. When Harold arrives, she looks up at him and beckons for both he and Lerith. The rush over to her.

Queen Edith

Brother, the king is dying.

King Edward

(weakly)

Perhaps, but I am not dead yet. And seeing as that is the case, I should make my wishes known.

Harold

You wishes, your majesty?

King Edward

Yes. I appoint as the defenders of the realm…

He trails off as they all three wait in anticipation. Lerith cannot wait.

Lerith

Yes, my king?

King Edward

I appoint…My beloved wife, who I have so neglected over the years, and her beloved brother, Harold Godwinson, Earl of Wessex. You may put my preference forth, Lerith of the Witan.

Everyone is taken aback, especailly Harold. The king had appointed him. He knew the Witan might, but the king?

Harold

My god…

King Edward

Can you do this for your king, Harold?

Harold

Of course, my King. I would do this for king and country.

King Edward

Very good. Take care of my beloved wife. She will need you, and you her.

Harold

Yes, your majesty.

The king goes limp. King Edward The Confessor has died, and his wife dissolves in tears as Harold holds her. A few tears come to his eyes as well.

Harold

Lord Lerith. Gather the Witan. The king is dead.

Int. Palace Counsil Chamber – Night

In a dark chamber, lit by fires and torches, the men of the Witan gather. A group of Twenty men, all old and bearded sit in the room at a long table. The three most senior are Lerith, ANGAR, and KERRIK. The three men will control the proceedings.

Lerith

The king is dead, so it is now time for the Witan to make a decision on who the next king will be, since he left no heirs.

Angar

The closest relative to Edward is Edgar, who is now in Hungary.

Lerith

Edgar is a sickly child who has spent little time in our country. He is not a suitable leader for Englishmen.

Kerrik

Then perhaps Harald Hardrada of Norway. He is a strong man, and a good leader.

Lerith

He is still not an Englishman. He is a Norwegian King, and does not belong here. The people would see him as an invader, not a king. I wish to get this out of the way. Both King Edward and Harold Earl of Wessex have asked to put forward the name of William, Duke of Normandy.

Angar

Give that Norman bastard the throne of England? I would rather die than see that.

Lerith

Agreed.

Kerrik

But those are our only choices.

Lerith

I would like to suggest someone else. Harold Godwinson, Earl of Wessex and Brother-in-law to the king. He is an Englishman and a nobleman, and the people already love and respect him.

Angar

I agree with this. Harold would be a good choice. Kerrik?

Kerrik

I agree, lords Angar and Lerith.

Lerith

The name of Harold Godwinson, Earl of Wessex has been put forward. All in agreement with this, raise your right hand.

All of the men of the Witan raise their hands.

Lerith

It is decided. Harold Godwinson, Earl of Wessex will be crowned King Harold the second. Thank you, my lords. Our decision is good.

The men of the Witan agree by nodding and exiting the room. Lerith goes to tell Harold.

The Value of Fan Fiction, Fan Art, Fan Videos and Costumes

 

 

Hello all. Thought I would go ahead and post something because it is one of those things I am interested in.  It is often said by some that “fan projects” are not worth the time or effort. This is not true at all. “Fan projects” are more pivotal now than they ever have been. Why do I say this? Because engaging in fan activities such as writing fan fiction, doing fan videos and creating fan art are fostering the next generation of artists. Basically what I am saying is that, with these projects comes knowledge, practice in the art that you want to be involved in, and experience.

Lets start with fan fiction. Many authors will say that this is not the kind of thing that “real” writers engage in. That is not true. Even writers and film makers that are well respected have dabbled in borrowing, fan fiction and “ripping off”. Take Suzanne Collins who wrote “The Hunger Games”. It is quite clearly based, in some form off of the film “Battle Royale”, A Japanese film about a group of Japanese students who are forced to fight to the death in a contest where only one is meant to come out alive.

Then again, “Battle Royale” is much more interesting and amusing, because it is not a film made to be considered as “overly serious film”, it is a film that caters to the interest of many audiences, action fans, Japanese film fan, people who like the irony and strong social messages put forward by the film. But basically it is an “it is what it is film, and if you try to make it something more, you’ll merely disappoint yourself”. The Hunger Games” caters to it’s built in audience, and is therefore full of teen angst and characters that one only finds interesting if they are into that sort of movie. There’s nothing wrong with the films. For me, they are just not as entertaining as a film like “Battle Royale”. But still, it cannot be denied that the premise is basically the same and one is simply more entertaining that the other.

Let’s take a moment to look at “Star Wars” and George Lucas. George Lucas’s earliest movie was “THX1138”, a dystopian film about a very controlled society. Here we actually have Lucas who has borrowed from George Orwell, who’s books (that later became films) are basically the same story. People living in a controlled society. Then when it came time for “Star Wars”, George Lucas, who was a great fan of Akira Kurosawa, basically took the plot of Kurosawa’a film “The Hidden Fortress” and set it in space. The George Lucas ripped himself off and Created “Willow” which is the same story with little people and Val Kilmer. Then, as Honest Trailers pointed out, J.J. Abrams basically recycled the plot, except this time around, Luke was a young woman who didn’t whine or complain as much. And in fact, you could say that Collins ripped off both Lucas and Orwell…Haha…

Even a smutty book like “Fifty Shades of Grey” was borrowed from the plot of “Twilight”, which I have always found amusing. Anne Rice took the plot of “Sleeping Beauty” and filled it with smut. Also borrowing from other people is what remakes are, adaptations are, they are also why Marvel keeps regurgitating it’s superhero franchises.

So here’s the thing. If these people are allowed to borrow, adapt, rip off and do all these other sorts of things, why can’t we fans do so? Some writers will say that, “ah, fan fiction. That is no good because you’re just taking someone else’s story and doing things with it.” Well yeah! That’s what art is all about. Copying and borrowing from the masters in order to gain competence. Even Da Vinci and Michelangelo started, probably from copying some of their art, or borrowing it from the person that they learned from. Everyone learns something. The difference is how quickly you can pick it up.

Also they say, “oh you don’t get good feedback on fan fiction”. Not true at all. If you are a good writer, people will know it and know how to respond to your writing, regardless of what it is based off of. There is a difference in writing styles and motives in fan fiction. One is for the writer who someday wants to write. The other is for people who use it for some kind of odd wish fulfillment, which shouldn’t be in the same caliber. However, I have gotten a lot of good feedback from writing fan fics. People seem to like what I write and know what kind of writer I am, and therefore, they ask questions, point out plot holes, make comments on my having too much exposition, all kinds of useful comments. So one cannot claim that they do not get good feed back. If you are a good writer who is working to morph a good narrative, readers will know it.

Some fan videos are wonderful, and I enjoy watching them. They can be funny, touching, interesting visually, and just plain emotional. So here the thing. What you are looking at are the writers, comedians, film editors, and producers/directors of the future. If you can make a good fan video that people like, then chances are you want to work in film. The fact that you are working with someone elses content, just as long as you make it clear that you are playing with someone elses baby, and you’re not slapping your name on it saying, “this is mine”, I don’t see a problem with it. When I edit photos, people know they are not mine. Nor do I claim them as mine. They belong to someone else, and I try to make that as clear as possible when I give credits to people. So we should not demonize people for stealing when all they are doing is borrowing. If they have the footage, chances are they own the original, and most people still like to buy the DVD. Personally I don’t like downloads of anything, whether it’s film or music or game content. I want something I can hold, that is mine. So I still buy DVDs and things. I love things like commentary and interviews and extras, so I buy the damn movie! It isn’t mine. I claim nothing because I cannot. All I do is what most other artists do is borrow and take what I can from a given plot and work with it. Here are a couple of videos from Sweetladybat that I just love.

Fan art is also a very useful teaching tool. Again, learning from the masters. Also fan costumes. If you go to conventions, you will see thousands of costumes that people have worked numerous hours on, sometimes just to wear to one event. What you have here is artists in the making and future costume designers. You may have the next Edith Head amongst their numbers. Or even a Donatella Versace is you think about it. why would the film industry and fashion industry not take advantage of these people and their art?

There are so many fandoms out there, and there are so many people who want to be a part of them. And if you do not foster the talent of the next Shakespeare, or the next Da Vinci, or the next Edith Head, the industry will be missing out on some great and awesome talent.

Thank you for reading, I greatly appreciate it!! Shara