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First Three Pages: Bad Driving

Posted by on March 25, 2018

What began as a 3-minute radio drama script with one MeetUp group, transformed, after much painful Word Doc template formatting, into a movie script. After all that work, an opportunity presented itself, in the form of a script-writing competition, to get more mileage out of my effort, “Bad Driving.”

The Austin Film Festival usually hosts all of its competitions in the fall during their big festival, but sponsored its inaugural First Three Pages competition in collaboration with the ColdTowne improv actors outside of their regular festival time.  They mentioned, at the start of the show, that they wanted to hold the competition every month.  After the event, the producer in me suggested that they consider doing it once a season.Two of my friends joined me before the show to enjoy complimentary drinks.

Unfortunately, only one had bought her ticket ahead of time and there were none available for sale at the door.  Yet, since we’d arrived early, we still had a wonderful time talking.

Another friend, who is a member the same film MeetUp that I am, showed up without a prepaid ticket, but he was far more determined to get in and signed up for the waiting list, figuring that someone would either not show up or the venue would allow him to stand in the back to view the show.

[From March 2nd until this night, March 20th, the greater Austin community had been terrorized by a package bomber.  So, there was a good chance that some people would remain home due to fear. Everyone who showed up did so out of defiance of those acts of violence and a determination to go on with life and not let him win.] Another friend, who had been among the first to purchase her ticket, arrived just after we’d been allowed to enter the tiny theatre space, which perhaps sat 60 people. Nonetheless, I loved reconnecting with her since, out of all of my friends who’d came out to support, she was the one I’d not seen in quite a while.

Every audience member was given a ballot to vote for their top three scripts. On the back of the ballots was a snarky set of instructions on feedback etiquette. As far as voting was concerned, I knew my piece was number one. Until the improv actors performed the third script. Then, I knew I was number two. They even performed my script fourth, which turned out brilliantly, causing me to daydream about making it my first animated film.

As I’d surmised, that third script about the lesbian couple coparenting their dog won. I was satisfied.

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