Falling in Love in Paris

Everybody said if I came to Paris, I'd fall in love. And I didn't believe them. I resisted the whole idea, thinking it clichéd crapola. Well, dear friends, you were right. I am totally head over heels in love. With my characters. I love these people! (That's not me necking in the photo by the way...)

We're spending a lot of time together, getting to know each other's quirks and idiosyncrasies. Well, I'm getting to know them. I don't think they give a Paris sewer rat's ass about me. But that's okay. I love them for that, too.

This post is kind of about plot. And how plot, to me, at the moment, isn't about "what happens." Plot is about what circumstances you put your characters into and how (if) they get themselves out.

What if a tough-guy undertaker falls in love with a bird? What if an old man tries to keep his dead wife nearby by wearing her clothing? These circumstances are a little bit strange, it's true, but what better way to see who a person truly is that by putting them up Shit Creek without a paddle?

You'd find out who you were, pretty damn quick. Would you be the type to sit down and cry until a helicopter saved you? Or are you more of a MacGyver, building shelter out of pine boughs and tin foil? Or maybe you are more of a bumbling sort, who would wander aimlessly into the bush, hoping for the best, but meeting many tragic/comic turns with things like waterfalls and quicksand.

My screenplay follows four people through a certain set of circumstances. My screenplay is about the things I think life is about: love, connection, living with purpose and authenticity during your time here on Earth. It's about the importance of vulnerability. When we are vulnerable, we are open. We are able and willing to connect.

But "what happens" in this little movie in my head is that a few people bumble through the forest, trying to get home. They each have their own brand of bumbling and that's what makes them who they are. What would you do if your wife died? If you couldn't and wouldn't accept the idea that she is just plain gone from your life and empty from your days. What would happen next?

I have rendered two of my characters. And I love them so dearly. These are people in my heart now, and they exist only in my imagination and on my pages. I feel lucky for that...like you feel lucky whenever you fall in love. I feel grateful for their frailty and honesty and vulnerability. I feel lucky to have been able to watch them struggle and suffer and work it all out. I feel lucky that I have two more characters to fall in love with tomorrow.

And I'm also a little sad.

I'm about 2/3 of the way through this script and The End is looming. The moment when I type the final scene, press Save and close up the file. I know it's only the first draft and there's more to come. I know that these characters are in my imagination and therefore I can, I suppose, visit whenever I like...but. It's all bittersweet. How exciting that I'm almost there. And how tragic.