Diana Dares

Foiling Chicanery with Boundless Intelligence, Fashionable Outfits, Moxie, and One Sporty Blue Roadster.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

DD-Approved Detective Gear

My roadster, frankly, has seen better days. My father hasn't seen fit to buy me a new one in ages, not that I blame him. A girl should be able to make a car last a long time, and I would, if I weren't always getting into car chases, or finding myself followed by a mysterious dark sedan, or being run off the road, or stopping at the sight of some intrigue along the side of the road. My car simply wears out faster than the cars of my non-detecting peers.

So when my new employer gave me the keys to his new sedan and asked me to deliver a package, I took them happily. As I opened the trunk of the car to deposit the package, I noticed something intruiging. The car was equipped with an anti-trap device! There is a handle one can pull from the inside of the trunk if one happens to find onself locked inside. I believe these are typically included as basically a child safety device, in case a particularly rambunctious child should lock herself inside the trunk. But not on the Ford Limited Five Hundred. No, they pretty much include it because they expect you to be kidnapped by mobsters. The icon on the anti-trap mechanism actually shows a little stick figure man jumping out of the trunk and then a dotted little path and arrow indicating "run away!"

It's the running away directive that makes it genius.

And plucky detective-approved. I love a car that assumes its driver lives such an exciting life that she will at some point find herself locked in the trunk of her own car.

...and the Pattern in the Puzzle

I am flummoxed at the moment. A new mystery has presented itself, and I have tried to attack the puzzle with vigor and derring-do, yet I remain confused. I’ve uncovered the connections; the clues lie before me. They must mean something, but what?? I haven’t quite pieced it together. If only someone would try to drive my sporty roadster off the road, I could get a look at the thug and use his identity as a clue!

I cannot go into detail, because the case is Top Secret. But I can use a similar experience to illustrate my situation.

I knew of a man at Emerson. I didn’t know him personally, but I had seen him around when I visited Ned, my boyfriend. Ned, similarly, knew of him but did not actually know him, since he wasn't an Omega Chi Epsilon brother. I will call this man Sergei.

Sergei and I never officially met, but the universe had a way of inserting him into my life. I once walked in on him having sex in a study carrel Ned had reserved. Another time he tried to argue a case against my father, Carson, and lost. But I remember him most vividly from the night he ran a red light and slammed his pizza delivery truck into my roadster in the middle of the intersection. Burt Eddleton, George, Ned and I were all in the car. I was merely shaken up, but Ned and George got bruises and scratches, and Burt had a huge concussion. His head swelled up like a melon and he developed amnesia and memory loss! Waiting for the ambulance that night, I thought of finally introducing myself to Sergei, but I was so angry at him for running the red light and concussing my friends that I decided against it. I never was formally introduced to him.

More recently I was in Prague on a case. One night I decided to take a break from the case and try and have some fun. I found myself at a rave taking place on a mysterious houseboat. There I was introduced to another man; I’ll call him Bob. My Czech friend went to find me an alcoholic beverage, leaving me alone with Bob. I began to talk to Bob. He told me he was engaged and very happy. I said “Congratulations, that’s wonderful.” He then lunged for me and started kissing me. In the end, this did not relate to the case.

Just lately I have learn that Sergei and Bob are working in a bookstore together. More curiously, the owner of the bookstore once lived next door to Burt Eddleton.
It seems like that should mean something. Something besides the fact that I should never walk into that bookstore. But what is the connection exactly? Surely it means something, portends something. What can it all mean??

Monday, June 19, 2006

...and the Riddle in the Refueling

I haven't written in weeks. And not even because I have been distracted by a new case. I feel the way I did after I'd solved my first case and all the hoopla had started to die down. I didn't have my second case. My friends called me a detective, but was it true? One little case -- it could be a fluke. In the end, another case turned up. And then another, and another. At Lilac Inn, Shadow Ranch, Red Gate Farm, Larkspur Lane, everywhere I turned. I fell into a rhythm. Now it's second nature. I know where to look. I know when to be patient and when to press. Most importantly, I know one will turn up.

Why can't writing be like that? I feel like a fraud, the wannabe who won't ever be. It's scary, and yet, at the moment, even though I need to, I can't write. I feel so tapped out.

I'm working at a new job, as my father's law office has been tied up with some boring real estate claims. Not much work and no hope of cases. At least while working there, however, there was ample time throughout the day to write. Not so here. There is time in little fits and starts, but finishing anything more than a one or two page scene isn't manageable. Of course, what I'm working on at the moment (play, not spec) doesn't break down easily into two-page chunks.

In my experience, playwriting is a more meandering process. The form is less restrictive, and it bleeds over into the approach. Instead of having a beat sheet that spells out exactly what the beginning, middle, and end of each scene is, I have a general idea of where the play is going, what the scenes are, what order the scenes are in, and so on. I know that I'm writing a scene where a boyfriend and girlfriend are having a fight over mailing a letter that's not actually about mailing a letter, but I don't know where the argument will wander. In my case, it turned out to include baseball and that instantly informed their other scenes -- connections opened up -- and suddenly baseball becames a part of my play.

Each different form of dramatic writing offers different luxuries and constraints. A play allows two characters to sit and talk -- the exact thing you are warned against including in tv and film. The characters might even have a conversation that wanders over several topics and then circles back to the original point. That's not to say that flabby writing is allowable -- one still needs a tough editorial eye -- but the reigns are loosened a bit and there's simply more time to explore an idea in multiple ways within a scene from a play.

While I'm happy to have the luxury of "to page 3 and beyond!" after writing several specs which featured lots of short scenes, it's not the writing that's conducive to being squeezed in between answering calls, making copies, and generally staying on top of everything going on in a writers' room and production office.

There's also the tougher problem of this general feeling of emptiness. Not in a grand metaphysical "I can't go on!" way, but more of an ennui-lite/Sartre for Beginners type of way. I feel like I haven't done, read, written, or lived anything but television in the past few months, and that kind of narrowly focused living frankly doesn't make one a very interesting person. I want to take a break and just go do stuff for a month or so -- read up on pirates, learn to surf, plant a garden, spend more time getting to know my neighbors, watch some Truffaut movies that I've meant to have seen but haven't -- but it all keeps falling to the wayside. I need crumbling walls, black keys, haunted showboats, and kachina dolls; I have soda order forms and drive-on requests.

I thought that there'd be a breathing period after staffing season, but it appears not to be the case. It's a happy dilemma having people wanting to read your stuff; now I just have to *produce* the genius stuff so they can read it.

I keep telling myself if I can just get through project X, I'm taking 2 weeks off, guilt-free, to just read up on whatever catches my eye and do something that does not involve little people in a box. Maybe I'll go to a dude ranch or ski resort with Bess and George and scare up some intrigue.

Which just leaves the small problem of motoring through project X.

I think I need a standing apptmt with the UCLA Law Library. Woman enters, does not leave until two scenes are written. Repeat every night until finished.

Send all your "get focused" vibes my way, y'all.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

...and the Intrigue in the Ashes

Dear readers, I have stumbled upon a new mystery! I arrived at work to find firetrucks surrounding my place of employment. Several alleys and streets were blocked off, and helicopters were buzzing overhead. Stage 27 was on fire!

Chief McGinnis thinks it was an accident, but I'm not so sure. I have several theories at this point, but even more questions. What was shooting on Stage 27 anyway? Who were all those mysterious workers seen entering and exiting at all times of day? Why did the fire spread to a nearby stage when the fire department learned of the fire almost immediately? Why do they keep motioning me to stay away from the site of the fire? What are they trying to hide? Was this the work of a disgruntled employee? Perhaps a rival studio? A starlet desperate to get out of her contract for a movie that was clearly going south?

Theory #1: Arsonist aiming for ruining the MTV Movie Awards but confused event date (Friday and Sat) with the air date (this coming Thurs). Attempt to save us from painfully unfunny Jessica Alba comedy bits failed, but arsonist wins my grudging respect.

Theory #2: Accidental fire caused by problem with wiring/light/employee cigarette. Not much of a mystery. Much more exciting if arson.

Theory #3: Arsonist actually independent filmmaker using stage after hours for his one big effects scene when his inexperienced stunts coordinator (just a couple points shy of his SAG card) made an unfortunate "shouldn't be a problem" call. If so, film crew was able to dismantle and run away very quickly. Check all recent film school graduates against their school's track teams. Follow up with any directors who hold suspiciously good times in the 400.

Theory #4: Arsonist wasn't aiming for Stage 27 at all, but rather hoping to get a toasty blaze going that would then spread to nearby stages -- the actual goal all along. Wait a minute....I'm in one of those nearby stages. Make list of potential enemies. Investigate those with arson or smoking in backgrounds. Think, think. What were they trying to destroy? (Besides me?) Keep eye on crew -- see if George will go undercover as grip.

I'm so excited. I haven't had a good mystery for months!