The Martians are Coming! Taking the Invasion From Stoop to Stage

Where do our publishable ideas come from? 

Writers know that ideas are everywhere; productive writers know how to turn observation, speculation and inspiration into something publishable--preferably in multiple forms.

A Martian Invasion?

In 2000, my son read a Junior Classic version of The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells for a third grade book project. Being a broadcasting nerd, I filled him in on the infamous radio drama by Orson (no-relation) Welles in 1938 that caused a bit of national panic among listeners who believed Martians had actually begun their invasion of planet Earth by landing in a field in New Jersey. Even at nine, my son was dubious. How could anyone believe such a silly thing? He called up his grandfather, who relayed his own boyhood memory of sitting on his Brooklyn stoop that late October Sunday evening and watching as his frightened (and gullible) neighbors exited their house in a rush, loaded grandma into the old Ford and announced they were heading for the hills before the Martians got to Brooklyn. (Whether my practical dad doubted the invasion talk, or simply believed that his beloved Greenpoint could hold its own against any aggressor, isn't clear.)

The exchange of questions and explanations with my curious son evolved into an article for Cricket Magazine called "War of the Worlds; A Halloween Trick or Treat?" After all, if my young man wondered what life was like with no TV, no Internet and only a few stations on the radio, other kids might find that interesting, too. In my research for the article, I came across a photograph of an old-timer named William Dock holding an ancient long-barreled rifle, and the piece claimed he was recreating how he had protected his land and loved ones from the Martians before word broke that the 'news' of the invasion had been a misinterpreted radio drama. I stashed the photo away in a file with all my papers and clippings, cashed the check from Cricket, but never completely forgot the image of that old man.

This 1938 NY Daily News photo of William Dock inspired Martians Over Brooklyn

Dexter HS, 2013. Directed by Tomi Dres.
Pop (James Fischer) warns his fellow residents of the coming invasion 

That article made a few more dollars for me when a test prep publisher came calling, and having seen it in Cricket, asked to include it as a reading comprehension selection for their state test material. An added bonus for inclusion in state test material is that the authors are paid each time the article appears, meaning that each state's booklet each year is considered a stand-alone publication worthy of payment.

Evolution: the gradual development of something from a simple to more complex form

Years later, as director of my middle school's plays, I had produced a few original shows and was looking for another idea to develop. I knew I wanted to return to Orson Welles' radio drama, but needed a comic hook for school theatre groups. Another problem was that reproducing the very wordy and complex radio drama from 1938 was not only too challenging for my young actors, but wasn't at all funny. The humor would have to come only from those who reacted to it. In short, I had an idea, but no play.

It hit me like a cartoon anvil on the head while I was watching an old rerun of the Kelsey Grammer sitcom Frasier.  In it, radio host Frasier was celebrating his station's roots by recreating an old drama, using his inept friends, family and colleagues as his cast. It was, of course, a disaster of epic proportions. I was so taken with the tools and tricks of radio drama, I knew they'd make for a good visual for a stage play. Having kept my 'War of the Worlds' idea tucked away for a decade, details and connections now rushed into mind faster than I could write them down. I grabbed my file, rewound the Frasier and watched it again. And again.

Reviewing my old materials, I knew my central characters would of course be led by my eccentric old friend, now willing to go to great comic lengths to protect his loved ones. I just needed a way to unify the 'listeners' so that they could interact with each other; seeing individual families in their own homes listening to the radio is hard to stage and limiting. So, I simply returned to the story my father had told to my son. I set the show on the stoop of an apartment building in my dad's Brooklyn neighborhood. People could run in, run out, run by--it made for easy interactions with a variety of people and no need to change set pieces. The show would open with children on a stoop, in homage to my father. With no set changes for the exterior of the stoop, and only one set for the radio studio, I could have the continuous action I needed and seamlessly blend the broadcast with listener reaction.

Excerpt from Martians Over Brooklyn:  Pop is the first to announce the Martian invasion to a skeptical group of residents that includes his granddaughter Jo. Unfortunately for him, they are all too familiar with his flights of fancy.

MIKE:   What's with Pop?
JO:  (Shrugs, embarrassed.) Gas.
MIKE:   I'm not surprised. I've had your mother's cooking.
MARYBETH:   No, he says it's from Martians.
MIKE:  Martians? Is that the new restaurant over on Metropolitan Avenue?
CATHY:   No, you idiot! Martians! Like from outer space!
MIKE:   So he got gas from Martians. I get mine from your mother's corned beef. It happens. 
CATHY:  I'm serious. Pop says we're being invaded by Martians from outer space with poison gas. He says he heard it on the radio!
MIKE:  You going to start believing him now? At least three times a week he says General Stonewall Jackson is marching up Lorimer Street. And today he says that both Greta Garbo and ZaSu Pitts are crazy in love with him!
 CATHY:   I don't know. It didn't seem like one of his jokes. He seemed awful spooked.

My next brainstorm came with about my fifth viewing of that Frasier episode, and watching his pals destroy his program through their own incompetence, disinterest, and selfishness.  I needed a way to tie in the Brooklyn set with the radio folks anyway, so I rolled all those destructive Frasier-esque qualities into one and invented a high-maintenance, low-talent B-movie actress who would arrive with her agent to stay (cheaply) in his aunt's Brooklyn boarding house while working on the Mercury Theatre program in NYC. Her arrival could wreak havoc on two sets and do more damage than the Martians ever dreamed.

Excerpt from Martians Over Brooklyn: Residents anticipate the arrival of actress Evelyne Alforde, and it is evident that conflict exists long before the Martians arrive.

PATTY:  Evelyne Alforde. Gee! A real Hollywood actress…(Shy admission) I never heard of her.
MAX:  Nobody ever heard of her. Her agent is Mona's nephew. I'm just glad to hear he's booking something other than animal acts or we'd have that chimp who rides a bike staying here. 
CATHY:  Judging by the smell in the bathroom on my floor, I'd say he is staying here. 
MONA:   (To Pop, accusingly) Have you been boiling garlic and lemons in the tub again?
POP:   It helps my voice when I sing in the bath!
MONA:   Do it again and we'll see how well you can sing with an electric toaster in the tub!
POP:    So what's the big crime? I dried the garlic on the windowsill and put it back in the kitchen where I found it.
JO:  Oh, gross.
PATTY: Shhh, Josephine. There wasn't much garlic in the lamb tonight…Hey, maybe that Miss Alforde is doing research for a new acting part or something. I read in Photoplay that they do that! Maybe she's playing a down on her luck Brooklyn housewife and wants to see how working class people live. (Carried away with a dramatic retelling) Just like that movie Housewife! Remember? The one where Bette Davis steals George Brent away from his poor devoted wife, I forget her name, and then George Brent tragically runs over his own son with the car, but the boy's injury reunites his parents! (Suddenly stops and checks watch. Brightens up) Oh, look at the time. My program's on (Happily exits into house.)
MIKE:  Poor kid. She lives for all that Hollywood fantasy mumbo jumbo.
CATHY: You would, too, if your life was a bad B movie. I mean, her husband goes out for Yoo-Hoo and never comes back, leaving her with no income, two kids and a father-in-law who is still fighting the Civil War and dates movie stars he's never met.

Now, for the radio drama recreation, I was still stuck with unmanageable dialogue. I contacted the estate of Howard Koch, who wrote the original radio play for Orson Welles' Mercury Theatre group and asked for permission to use excerpts and paraphrases of his work. (The internet is an amazing resource.) It took six months of emails back and forth and turning over the script for approval (and a one-time payment of a small tributary fee), but I got an official release and good wishes. My actress character could play a few minor parts, try to highjack the live broadcast to pad her role, while leaving the other actors to not only play their live radio drama for real, but also interact comically with her off-air.

Excerpt from Martians Over Brooklyn: (Agent Sam and Evelyne discuss her career)

 SAM: Just listen to your director. And whatever you do, don't improvise. He's a bit temperamental. And, honey, if this doesn't work out, maybe acting isn't your bag.
EVELYNE:  Sam Grafton!
 SAM: How many times have I told you to stick to modeling? Unlike your last gig, it's perfectly acceptable for a model to be stiff and lifeless.
EVELYNE:  I assume you are referring to my last stage play? I'll have you know I received great notices from the reviewers. They said they absolutely loved my big death scene.
SAM:  No, they said they were happy when you died. There is a difference!
EVELYNE:  Well, forget the critics. They hate everything. I worry only about Mr. and Mrs. Front Porch, and the audience seemed to be having a wonderful time. 
SAM:  Are you kidding? The Lincolns had a better time at the theatre after John Wilkes Booth showed up!

Zachary Britton as Pop Bonacelli is ready to do battle in the Hudson River in
Lagrange Middle School's premiere production of Martians Over Brooklyn

Michigan's Dexter High School recreates Orson Welles' 'War of the Worlds' broadcast
 in Laurie Bryant's Martians Over Brooklyn

The old man from the photograph that started it all became Pop Bonacelli, a kindly, but deluded Civil War vet who isn't nearly as crazy as he'd like everyone to believe. All I had to do was surround him with a cast of characters who either believed or disbelieved the whole Martian invasion premise to create conflicts within the conflict. Toss in some Depression era sub-threads to create drama, comedy and emotion and the script worked. The audiences learned, as my young son did, that in 1938 people lived in fear of Hitler, invasions and super-weapons as the drumbeats of war in Europe sounded ever closer, families turned to the radio or movies for fantasy getaways as their own lives and economies crumbled, and emerging science fiction and fact were both capturing the imagination and breeding terror. In short, the world, if not New Jersey, was ripe for Orson Welles to stage his mock-invasion on the night before Halloween.

Cashing in

A third grader's book report led to a published article, royalties from standardized test preparation kits and continued royalties as the play is now being performed all around the country.

I wonder if it would work as a screenplay...

Martians Over Brooklyn is available from Heuer Publishing.

Weaving Truth into Fiction: Sidestepping Pitfalls & Mining Valuable Nuggets of Research

Research: Your Dream Deferred

Social media. E-mails. Reading blog posts. Writing blog posts. Trips to the fridge. There are many attractive distractors for creative types trying to craft original work. The easy answer is to shut down the Internet, turn off the cellphone and padlock the fridge (Tried it. Epic fail. Remembered I am still working through an old two-pound bag of mini Tootsie Rolls from an adoring student that I have stashed in my desk drawer. I spent an hour building a Tootsie Jenga tower with the stale ones.)

Possibly the worst writing time-suck of all is the easy accessibility of information in the electronic age—crack for the research junkie. If you aspire to authenticity in your story, you know you must do your homework. And everyone else’s. Even a simple modern tale must have a setting that rings true, whether you are world-building in a city or town of your own creation, or setting your characters off on a stroll down the Queen’s Walk along the Thames in London. (Been there. Done that. Lovely. I should write a story. If I did, could I deduct my trip? I should turn my Internet back on and look that up.)  

There's the Rub

Writing historical fiction certainly requires accuracy and detail. So, you research. You turn the Internet back on. What choice do you have? You visit encyclopedias, make a book wish list, devour every online reference and link that might even vaguely relate to your thing, you pore over travel sites for location tidbits, check maps, drift through Google Images, and even read menus from setting-connected restaurants. (You know, just in case you decide to visit on a tax-deductible research tour. Oh, and you’ll need a hotel. And flights. Maybe there’s even a travel article in it for you. So, you’re off to see what the submission guidelines are for a few travel mags and to whom to address your query.)

Many, many months later you have gained a bit of candy weight, purchased a large bottle of Senekot (damn Tootsie Rolls), but also have a hefty file of printed research from the Internet, stacks of books scored from libraries, Amazon and eBay, legal pads filled with copious notes and a general idea of what you want your main character to accomplish on her journey.

Now what? What bits of history do you include? How do you marry the truth and the fiction? How do you do it so that you are not awkwardly pushing in the historical detail? (While walking in Braintree, home of our future second President of the United States, John Adams, a self-professed ‘obnoxious and disliked’ little fellow who has also already sired a future president and has a famously respectful relationship with his ahead-of-her-time wife, Abigail, young Corky noticed a sheep in the meadow.)

The Question, Jerk. The Question. (John McEnroe, anyone?)

Good story ideas can begin with a question, and historical fiction is no exception. My own inspiration was simple. I love sports. My sports heroine is the great multisport legend Babe Didrikson Zaharias, who came to fame in the 1930s and spent twenty years making shots and headlines as the world’s first female media darling of sport.

The great Babe in 1932

Babe Didrikson Zaharias,
champion golfer and showman

My mom was an athletic Depression era Minnesota farm girl.

The question: What if my mother met Babe Didrikson?

I’d researched the great athlete Babe Didrikson for years. I learned in Russell Freedman’s Babe Didrikson: The Making of a Legend that Babe, having single-handedly won a team qualifying meet for track and field in Evanston in 1932, immediately traveled with her new team via train from Chicago to Los Angeles for the summer Olympic Games. One detail hit me hard: an attention-hound, Babe would regularly run the length of the train in her workout gear, staying fit and enjoying her newfound celebrity. Setting chosen. Mom would become a feisty twelve-year old tomboy in the company of our stern and proper Aunt Cora off to visit family in California on the same train. (And so began a whole new round of research on Union Pacific, trains, Pullman cars, Pullman porters and the cross-country route from Chicago to LA. Thank god for Tootsie Rolls. And Senekot.) 

Babe would be a special guest star in Tomboys, larger-than-life, brash and an All-American braggart. She represented the changing times and emergence of empowered sportswomen in the thirties. She was easy to insert into young Elsie’s story because she quite literally took over any scene she was in. Getting her to talk wasn’t difficult. Getting her to shut up--well, that was another story, and one her Olympic teammates could identify with. Her quotes and antics jumped off the pages of my research as dialogue and deeds as effortlessly as Babe herself took hurdles. All I had to do was to take dictation and create an audience. Elsie would be there, eagerly lapping up Babe’s tall feats and taller tales, and at the same time allowing the reader to listen in and meet a famous historical figure. Establishing a conflict premise was even easier: Two 1930s gals challenging gender stereotypes and roles while the disapproving public cluck their collective tongues at the boyish athlete and her protégé. Story idea launched.

Adopt, Adapt, Improve

A small problem arose. I lack expertise in track and field. You can learn history. You can learn rules. You can’t learn how something feels unless you do it. To connect with readers and audiences you can't fake the essential truths of your story. Despite running the anchor leg on the world's slowest mile-relay team one misspent season in high school, I could not effectively convey the truth of life as a track star. I do know what it’s like to flip a curveball off your fingertips, and how it feels when you’re pitching a no-hitter. I’ve lovingly fingered the raised red stitches on a new glistening white baseball, and I’ve heard the taunts for being better than the boys. So, I simply had Elsie’s dreams focus on baseball, a subject I am more capable of writing about in great and expressive detail.

Location, Location, Location

As the story developed (and the research pile grew) I realized I needed more plot. What did Elsie really want, and how could she go about getting it? What was in the way? Babe provided the inspiration, society provided the obstacles, but Babe slowly gave way to a fictional female baseball barnstormer pitcher named Libby, who boarded the train with her fast-talking husband/coach and an offer Elsie couldn’t refuse. They would escort Elsie the rest of the way on her journey and into the climax. But what would that climax be? And how could I get my passengers off that train for a change of pace? If baseball was a backdrop, a train setting was a bit limiting.

My research led me to the final scene where all major elements would come together: I learned from a book that the Olympians were taken off the train and feted at the grand Brown Palace hotel in Denver. (Well, the white athletes, anyway. The two black American track stars, Louise Stokes and Tidye Pickett, were made to eat in their dingy room on the maids’ floor. Hmmm, file that away.) I contacted a wonderful hotel historian who, grateful that I had tipped her off on the forgotten Olympic connection, forwarded me clippings of the city’s celebration for them. She knew there was a mural of Babe in the hotel, and the later link to her Colorado husband, wrestler George Zaharias, but never knew of her celebrated visit in the summer of ‘32. One Denver Post article she sent contained a tiny reference that had me standing on my chair in excitement. The day of the Brown Palace banquet, Babe Didrikson also made a public appearance at a local baseball tournament to demonstrate her world record in the baseball throw, then a women’s track and field event. Jackpot. It was easy to contrive a climatic scenario that would bring all those characters together at the hotel and ball field while still honoring the historical playbook.

End of the Line

So while research can drift into the realm of the unfocused, and chew up more time than a stale Tootsie Roll, there are gems to be found in the crevices of the past. You might meander, but you must never lose sight of the finish line (note track and field metaphor). Precious nuggets of dialogue, characterization and setting can be mined and seamlessly interwoven into your fiction, but like any prospector, you must be able to recognize the possible treasures and not be sucked in by Fool’s Gold (Pyrite. I looked it up.) Sometimes the greatest historical finds are quite small; little moments that shed light and context on a person or time period, and become part of the fabric of your original story without overwhelming your character's journey.

Oh, and Elsie witnessed the racism while at the opulent Brown Palace, again allowing the reader to see a moment in history unfold through the story. It also triggered my revisitation of Elsie’s relationship with the Pullman porter aboard the train and led me to recognize obvious parallels in their stories and quests for acceptance from a (mostly white male dominated) society so deeply rooted in stereotype and tradition that it retarded progress for both women and people of color.

After a very successful stage performance by a school theatre group, the novelization of Tomboys is finished and the search for an agent has begun. My journey, like Elsie’s, was full of stops and starts. No matter what becomes of my Tomboys manuscript, I enjoyed the ride.

(Though I’d still really like to visit that hotel in Denver. Oh, and the Pullman museum and Union Station in Chicago. Anyone know a good restaurant? Never mind, I'll look it up.)

Plodding Through Your Novel Plot? Try Thinking Like a Playwright!

Find your focus drifting as you write that novel? Do you hear from your crit group that you are too heavy on narration and too light on action?

Reach the Finish Line
Putting your story, or even just a few key scenes, down in stage script form can help you get out of your pacing rut and get to the climax. Shaping a story in script form moves along more quickly by design, and the scenes are easily transferred into chapters later on. Thinking like a playwright means that each scene must have its own hook, action and mini-climax, similar to the development of book chapters. And, most importantly, each scene, character and line of dialogue must serve a purpose--advancing the plot or developing the conflict or characters. This is a great exercise for writers who tend to drift, or take too long to hit the climax of each scene. There is no room for extraneous characters on stage, and dialogue is trimmed and tightened so that every word matters and every action is dramatically justifiable. It's like writing down the bones of your story, and leaves room for narrative exposition to be added later on, ensuring that your characters drive the story.

One page of properly formatted script equates to roughly one minute of performance time. Scenes should be neither too long or too short. Too many short scenes may mean there is not enough exposition, and scenes that are too long may tire the audience/reader and signal a trim is needed.

Muddling through the Middle?
Thinking of your story as a two-act play may also help you to remember not to get lost in the middle. Plays with an intermission after Act One should send the audience to the snack bar or restroom talking about the story. It is a teaser for the coming climax in the second act, so Act One should end on a high or dramatic note. This could be your character's All is Lost moment or an important turning point. Musicals often have a big production number just as the first act ends. Keep in mind that in plays, the second act is usually shorter than the first, so your story conflict should be well developed and headed to the climax.

Try practicing outlining your novel scenes. List the characters in each scene, what plot points are being addressed, and key lines of dialogue or action. What is your mini-climax that will keep the pages turning? What would you consider as your Act One finale? And when you get to your story climax in Act Two, the final wrap-up should come quickly, tying up loose ends and sending the audience away wanting more. Now take your scene list and see if they make sense as chapter outlines. It may be easier to attack each chapter now that you know where it is going and what the key elements are.

Character Development: Show, Don't Tell
The characters in any story must be clearly developed and resonate with audiences. It's always best for the audience or reader to meet each character and get to know him through what he says or does. This direct characterization exercise is perfect for forcing the writer to allow characters to tell their own story, to express their feelings verbally and through action--and removes the tempting crutch of over-reliance on narration and description. And the experience of watching a dynamic character change before your eyes makes for a more intimate relationship with the audience/reader.

Playwrights try to ensure that each main character is unique. Remember that audiences do not have the luxury of being able to refer to previous pages to clear up a confusion about who's who. While novelists often take great care to choose easily identifiable names for main characters, playwrights must think on more levels. Characters in performances on stage (or even TV) may be given accents, dialogue or physical ticks (a memorable and repeated catchphrase or mannerism), or a costuming item or prop. Thinking of classic television characters, Polly Holliday's fast-talking Southern waitress Flo was known for the catchphrase "Kiss my grits," and Gary Coleman's "Whatcha talkin' about, Willis?" and both remain familiar decades later, and the paranoid Captain Queeg in The Caine Mutiny fiddled with metal marbles in times of stress. Seinfeld's Kramer's wardrobe was consistently hipster-doofus, and he made the same comically frantic entrance to Jerry's apartment throughout the series' run, and got laughs every time. Audiences like familiarity, and while they may not always be overtly aware of them, weaving in these unique character elements can enhance your novel and make your characters stand out.

Polly Holliday's Flo stood out on TVs Alice through her costume and catchphrase. 

Gary Coleman's Diff'rent Strokes catchphrase is still familiar decades later. 

Captain Queeg's nervous habit signaled his breakdown in The Caine Mutiny.

Kramer's signature costumes and over-the-top entrances never failed to entertain Seinfeld audiences.

Costumes, Sets & Props
The devil is in the details. In a script, directors and actors are left to interpret your words. They must be able to quickly visualize where characters are, how they dress, speak and interact with one another. Novelists know that while each reader brings a personal interpretation to a book, they ultimately need to come away with fairly consistent reflections and opinions of each character and situation. And while every staged performance of a play is born from the very same words in a script and every performance is nuanced, sometimes even night-to-night, playwrights can still look at random still photos of actors from their plays and instantly know which characters they are seeing. Costume and setting descriptions, props and mannerisms help place characters in context to the story and to each other. Novelists can learn from this streamlined descriptive process, and remember to sometimes give the reader a visual glimpse into each scene.

Give it a Try
You don't have to have any aspirations to publish your story as a stage play, but playing with a new format can give you a fresh look at your material, or a jumpstart on a sagging story or static character. Seeing your story as a script may help you visualize character conversations or key scenes and ramp up your action.

And you may find yourself hooked. I first experimented with playwriting out of impatience to get the major plot elements of a novel down on paper. I saw an add for a free trial of MovieMagic Screenwriter, downloaded it and gave it a go. My 'novel' became my first published play, The Ransom of Miss Elverna Dower, and won the Shubert Fendrich Memorial Playwriting Award in 2009. I easily went back and finished the novel, with some fleshing out and development, and found the whole process less frustrating as I knew exactly where I was going and had the script as my roadmap. (Now starting search for an agent. Just saying.) Five produced original plays later, I continue to see most of my stories as scenes or plays as they develop and have since realized that writing dialogue is a strength for me in any format.

Where do I Start?
Often the most daunting aspect of playwriting is the formatting, but there's lots of good news there for those of us not comfortable fiddling with our word processor's margins and macros. There are some very intuitive software packages that practically format for you. All you have to do is choose the element (like a scene break, dialogue, parenthetical note or stage direction) and the software sets the spacing and such for you. The learning curve is short on even the most powerful programs, and all you have to do is start typing. All programs have import and export features, and most have outlining, document search capability, and other useful organizing tools.

The App store has several free or inexpensive applications, but check out these scriptwriting programs:

Celtx free scriptwriting software This internet-based software allows access from anywhere, and work is easily shared for collaboration. Has a pay upgrade for more features, but the free program is enough for most writers.

MovieMagic Screenwriter A bit costly at about $170, but all you will ever need for stage and screenplays. Available for Mac and PC. Free trial available, and look for sales and discounts.

FinalDraft The industry standard for professionals in stage or screenwriting, and this big boy comes in around $199. Powerful, but fairly easy to learn. Available for Mac and PC and an iPad app is also available. Free trial available, as well as educational discounts for teachers and students. (Just upload your ID card or other proof.)

For more on my plays, check out my website LaurieBryant.com
or
The Ransom of Miss Elverna Dower (through Pioneer Drama Services)
Unplugged (through Pioneer Drama Services)
Martians Over Brooklyn (through Heuer Publishing)