As a Puerto Rican kid growing up near Yankee Stadium in the South Bronx, I was drawn to the arts, spending my free time drawing portraits. I often dreamt of having my own art gallery in Manhattan, each painting telling a story. Nowadays my scripts are my art.
There is a wonderous escape with writing, creating fictional worlds with fascinating people struggling to reach their goals. Not too different than real life.
The inspiration for my stories comes from unexpected places. A few years ago, I was standing by Chateaugay Lake in upstate New York as the sky turned blackish gray. Lightning struck the lake. Raindrops turned into a downpour, muting the flashes of light. That moment inspired the concept for my feature script ‘Glimpse,’ where a young couple is struck by ‘dark lightning’ and gets a glimpse of their tragic future.
Inspiration also comes from the most deeply familiar places. Fifteen years ago, while looking for some papers in a box, I found a photo of my ex-fiancé and me. College sweethearts. Madly in love. A year away from getting married.
I drove to Chattanooga to surprise her after being away for a month. When I arrived, she had just closed the front door to her parents’ house and walked towards her old Chevy Impala convertible. I approached her with roses and balloons in hand. She said she was headed to a party but that I couldn’t come. She had found someone else. The balloons drifted into the sky as I released them, and the roses fell to my side. She hugged me and said, “We were great lovers but never great friends.” I watched her red hair and the convertible fade into the distance.
Those memories kept me awake for several nights. I started to wonder what it would be like to see her again, either by chance or in a class reunion. This became the idea for my first script, where a now older man was headed back for his class reunion. Anxious. Pensive. On the plane, he discovers a manuscript in the seat pocket ahead of him. As he reads it, he realizes it’s about him and his ex-fiancé. The manuscript ends with a plane crash before arriving at the class reunion, and so does the actual plane.
After finishing this screenplay, ‘Manuscript,’ I mailed a letter to my ex-fiancé telling her that I forgave her and thanked her for starting me on my screenwriting path. Ironically, I’m grateful for this deep wound. I use it often.
My journey, however, from concept to a produced screenplay has been an elusive one. Everything has to go perfectly with a little luck on your side. My TV pilot ‘The Blanked’ was optioned, shopped around, had talent attached, a director, and producer. We pitched the TV series to the creative executives at black pills and got the nod. But in the end, the ultimate decisionmaker decided not to produce it.
I have learned to temper my expectations while continuing to hone my craft. With luck, like the protagonist Andy Dufresne in ‘The Shawshank Redemption,’ someday I’ll reach my own Zihuatanejo Beach.
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