When I was twelve, I discovered my parents’ old wind-up 8mm movie camera. I wasn’t quite the same after that, and I drove the family a little crazy with my “projects.”

My love for movies has never waned, and I still enjoy toiling with screenplays. They have a language and structure all their own. And converting your own novel into a movie script? What a challenge. I thrive on a challenge, but phew…it ain’t easy.

It would be fantastic if all you had to do was select all, copy, and paste your novel into some screenplay software, and just hit “convert.”

Sadly, it doesn’t work that way.

Inevitably, things from the original source are going to get cut: scenes, dialogue, sometimes even characters. You have to wrestle with budget concerns, tightening the pace (lest you have a six-hour movie), and structure.

The real triumph is when, after judicious trimming, the beauty of the original novel can be experienced on the screen. Or in rare cases, made even better than the source—The Bridges of Madison County, for example. Then again, sometimes it goes in the other direction, and the film version falters: The Lovely Bones comes to mind.

Here’s a scene from my story “Shin-Kiba Park” that I’ve converted. The first is in its original narrative form, the second is the screenplay treatment. Not much difference, right? (hahahaha)

 

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(Excerpt from “Shin-Kiba Park”)

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Who on this train could have guessed that Brian Caleb had come to Japan in search of love? That Brian Caleb, college student, had arrived in Tokyo with twelve-hundred dollars in loan money, three changes of clothes, and a passion for a Czech student named Ondřej who seemed equally passionate about him? How was it he’d gone from the elation of romance with a Czech boy to this uncertain and complicated promise of casual sex with a stranger for the mere purpose of making him feel less alone? Less undesirable? Less depressed?

Yuji was the first person in Tokyo who’d actually smiled at him. Yuji was the first person who hadn’t stared at him as if he were a circus freak. Yuji showed interest in him. Yuji desired him. Brian craved this desire. And so they followed each other into the department store restroom, locking themselves behind a rusted metal door. They embraced, kissed, felt each other’s bodies in the confines of the stench-filled cubicle. And Brian was able to forget the world around him, at least for those first few minutes. The sexual bliss that rose up inside him was like a drug, relaxing his muscles, slowing his breathing, easing the tightness in his chest. A momentary bliss, all destroyed by the fat old guard pounding on the stall wall.

Who on this train would guess any of this, just by staring at him?

The train began to slow. A long, loud squeal momentarily drowned out the low conversations around him. A group of seven or eight passengers moved to the door. This afforded Brian a clearer view of Yuji. Even if it meant forcing himself through the crowd, Brian was determined to head to the other end of the car to stand with Yuji. But almost as if he’d read Brian’s mind, Yuji turned, pushed his way past several people, and took Brian by the arm. He pulled him to the door, and they both stepped off just as the doors started to close.

“You transfer. Um…here….here you take Keiyo Line,” Yuji said, struggling with the words, as they stepped away from the edge of the platform. “For Shin-Kiba. Place for…it’s for…us.”

Brian smiled at him, his heart racing as Yuji stood next to him, their arms touching. “I can just follow you.”

Yuji shook his head, a serious expression on his face. He pointed to Brian’s backpack. “Map?”

Brian continued to smile, though it was a bit awkward, given Yuji’s expression. But when their eyes locked, Brian could still feel the same spark he’d felt in the department store when he first spotted Yuji in the sleeveless red t-shirt that stood out against the black and gray everyone else wore. And there was the cute way that Yuji brushed at his left eye, as if he had a lash that wouldn’t stop bothering him. This somehow made him more approachable than most of the men he was attracted to. He did that now—a nervous gesture, Brian surmised—as he waited for Brian to pull out the map.

People bustled around them as they stood near a column in the center of the platform. Yuji unfolded the map, his elbow knocking into an older woman who glared at him as she hurried toward the stairs. He turned the map over twice, then tapped it a few times with the tip of his finger. “Here,” he said, “Hatchobori Station, here, to Shin-Kiba. On Keiyo Line.” Another train pulled into the station. “I must go now. I…wish you a…au revoir, right?” He smiled as he started toward the train, walking backward to keep eye contact with Brian.

“You’ll meet me there?” Brian called out. “Is that what you mean?”

Yuji bit his bottom lip. Brian couldn’t tell if Yuji hadn’t understood him, or if he was just searching for words. As the crowd of people swelled, moving toward the train doors, Yuji shrugged. He turned and was swallowed up by the throng that started to board the train. Brian couldn’t spot him as the train started to pull away. It seemed so strange, suddenly alone in a place with hundreds of people swarming around.

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Screenplay Version

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EXT. STREET, TOKYO – DAY

 

A sea of cars and PEDESTRIANS.

 

Brian, a backpack slung over his shoulder, navigates the sidewalk.

 

INT. DEPARTMENT STORE – DAY

 

Brian walks past aisles of merchandise. He heads up the stairs to the –-

 

RESTROOM

 

SASAKI YUJI (20), Japanese, slight build, boyish and sexy, dressed in a red tee-shirt under an open blue plaid shirt, book bag on shoulder. He washes his hands.

 

Brian walks to the sink, washes. Several glances in the mirror between them.

 

Yuji pats his hands on his shirt. He walks to the stalls, checks them — all empty — and enters the far stall.

 

Brian wipes his hands on his jeans and joins Yuji in the –-

 

STALL

 

Brian and Yuji explore each other’s bodies. Until they hear –-

 

POUNDING. And the –-

 

BOOMING VOICE of a SECURITY GUARD (40s).

SECURITY GUARD

(in Japanese)

Out! Out!

 

 

Yuji pushes the door open, and hurries out of the restroom.

 

Brian zips up, glances at the scowling security guard, and leaves.

 

INT. DEPARTMENT STORE – DAY

 

Brian follows Yuji.

 

INT. RAIL STATION – DAY

 

COMMUTERS –-

 

Flow around Yuji on the platform.

 

Brian approaches Yuji and smiles. Yuji meets his gaze, looks away.

.

BRIAN

I didn’t… I didn’t expect
that guy would…

 

Yuji gestures toward the tracks. Yuji speaks with a Japanese accent.

YUJI

You transfer. Um…
You can take Keiyo Line.

(beat)

For Shin-Kiba. Place
for… it’s for… us.

 

A hopeful smile from Brian.

BRIAN

I can just follow you.

 

Yuji shakes his head, with a serious expression. He points to Brian’s backpack.

YUJI

Map?

Brian pulls out a map. Yuji takes it, and turns it over twice. He taps a spot.

YUJI

Here. Hatchobori Station, here,
to Shin-Kiba. On Keiyo Line.

 

A train pulls into the station.

YUJI

I must go now. I… wish you
a… goodbye, right?

 

Yuji walks to the train.

BRIAN

You’ll meet me there?
Is that what you mean?

 

Yuji is swallowed up by the throng of boarding COMMUTERS.  He locks eyes with Brian until the train pulls out.

 

********

So you can see that it’s not exactly a simple thing to do. Then again, that’s probably why they get paid the big bucks in Hollywood.

Well, back to the grindstone. I’ve had an empty spot on my bookshelf for an Oscar for the last twenty years.

 

 

 

 

 

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When Barry’s first collection of stories was read aloud by his second grade teacher, the author hid. As the years flew by, he wrote more, hid less (not really), and branched out to Super 8 films and cassette tape recorders. Barry’s audience—consisting solely of friends and family—were both amused and bemused.

Tinseltown, a Finalist in the 24th Annual Lambda Literary Awards, is Barry’s first novel. His novel The Celestial won the Gold Medal in the 2012 ForeWord Book of the Year Awards and was a Finalist in the 25th Annual Lambda Literary Awards. Reunion, a collection of linked stories, was a Finalist in the 2012 ForeWord Book of the Year Awards.

His stories, novels and teleplays have won awards, including a 2008 Pushcart Prize nomination; 3rd Place in the 2010 Pacific Northwest Writers Association (PNWA) literary contest and finalist status in the 2006, 2008, 2009, 2012, and 2013 PNWA contests; 3rd Place in the 79th Annual Writer’s Digest Writing Competition and a winning entry in the 2013 WILDSound Screenplay competition.

When not embroiled in his own writing, Barry sips wine, nibbles on chocolate, and watches films and TV—both the classic and the cheesy. (Mmm…cheese!)

www.barrybrennessel.com