Genre: Drama/Crime
Logline: A dying man (OLD MR. CAMPBELL) confesses to a murder he committed half a century earlier. Was it truly murder, though, or an act of survival?
Length: 103 Pages
Rated: R. Violence, Profanity
To request the full script or a brief synopsis please email me at michael.g.mclarty@gmail.com
Genre: Horror/Comedy
Logline: An alcoholic stilt walker (MORT) must save the town that loathes him from an invasion of zombie midgets.
Length: 93 Pages
Rated: R. Violence, Profanity, Nudity, Sexual Situations
To request the full script or a brief synopsis please email me at michael.g.mclarty@gmail.com
Genre: Horror.
Logline: A young man talks with a therapist about his dark urges.
Length: 5 pages.
A screenplay I wrote for Kenny Pedersen, based on an original screenplay by Kenny Pedersen. Kenny asked me to give the script he was working with for a local contest a look over. While my version didn’t make the cut, I was proud of what I wrote so decided to share it.
The screenplay is only 5 pages. Kenny only had 48 hours to make a film. I think what he came out with is pretty good!
My Screenplay is here: http://www.mikeswritings.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/GEORGE.pdf
Kenny’s Movie is here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EQatioH6M5o
Pawns
Opening Moves
Fucking whores. It could all be boiled down to the fucking whores. Everything. Air pollution. NAFTA. Parking tickets. Kids with cancer. His downstairs neighbor’s annoying yap-yap keeping him awake at night. In one way or another, they were all connected to ‘women of loose virtue’ as his mother had called them.
It had taken him quite a while to figure it out. He had no illusions about being a smart man, but he wasn’t dumb either. His whole life things just hadn’t gone his way. Other guys had jobs, girls, friends, nice cars.
Charlie Schmitz never had any of those. He’d been bullied as a kid till he started lifting weights. Things had seemed on the upswing, despite being kicked out of high school, till he was caught with the ‘roids. While in the pen he’d been punked out and gotten on meth. He came out with a bunch of scars, of all kinds, unable to find a job.
He’d never known his dad, and his mom was all he had. If not for her, he would have been homeless a long time ago.
Not just homeless, dead. He would have died, no doubt.
(Continued)
The old woman seemed ancient and ominous to Marco. Her hard, bloodshot eyes stared at him unblinking beneath her hand wove, grayish head scarf. A small, single yellow candle burned on the table they were seated at inside the crumbling, dilapidated structure she called ‘home’. The candle emitted a slight fragrance of corn; sweet and starchy to Marco’s nostrils. Occasionally it would spark briefly as the flame reached a part of the wick more heavily oiled than previously, beating back the cool shadows enveloping the occupants and make-shift furniture, if only for a second. The woman was beyond noticing these intermittent fireworks, intent on her business with Marco. As for Marco, the entire damn town smelled of corn, so the candle was nothing new.
(Continued)
Hey all! Gonna take a moment to pimp a buddy of mine’s comic. It’s in the competition at Zuda.com and follows the hypothesis of ‘what if the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde were real?
Awesome art and intriguing premise! If you don’t mind, a quick register and a vote for HydeBound would be greatly appreciated by your’s truly! Thanks and enjoy the comic by following the link below:
Once the beatings stopped Saul Steadholder put the fingers of his free hand into his mouth and checked the damage. One tooth, a back one, was broken. He fished the shrapnel out of his inner cheek and looked at it, uncaring. His left arm hurting like hell, he carefully put the crown into his pants’ pocket. Perhaps a dentist could do something with it. His jaw felt broken. He tried to whisper a word.
“Julia.” He said quietly.
(Continued)
Jim Chow’s ancient station wagon lumbered down the road just as it had done innumerable times before. The windows were down. Jim enjoyed the breeze created as he drove along. Little scraps of paper and debris were caught in miniature, invisible eddies inside the vehicle, dancing. While the air was not cool, even at this near dawn hour, it was not stifling either. Soon it would be. The heat no longer sneaked up, gradually appearing like the smile of the Cheshire cat. These days it advanced loudly, an approaching army. Most motorists simply left their windows up all the time, slaves to the air conditioning.
(Continued)
Well, I’m at home for the week due to some possible (but not likely) cardiac issues. As I operate Heavy Machinery, my doctors are a bit overly cautious when I begin to get dizzy and have chest pain. I explained to them that I had been feeling fine till the cocaine/hooker/donkey bender in Tijuana last weekend, but still they want me to take a stress test on Friday. So here I am and there you are reading the outpourings of my bored (but probably not broken), lonely heart.
In no particular order, some thoughts running through my mind like Haitian looters at a Sam’s Club:
(Continued)
I’m writing this for a few people. One is a man at work named Joe whom I respect very much and enjoy religious conversations with. We often get cut off mid conversation, so rarely do I get to elaborate on one point or another.
I’m also writing this for my children. Were something to happen to me before I could have this discussion with them, I would want some sort of document stating my beliefs and convictions so that they could better understand how I viewed the world and God.
Lastly, I’m writing this for anyone who finds the subject matter of others personal beliefs interesting. Sadly, I don’t think theres much of a market for discussing God, at least not God as I see Him. Sure, there are plenty of books, both fiction and non, that profess to offer insight. Many of these works have merit. Most don’t.
So, read on if you want to know my beliefs. If you want to pass, I fully understand.
(Continued)