Far be it from me to self-identify as a scriptwriter, but I still decided to take on the challenge of Script Frenzy this April. As defined on the official webpage, the challenge is to “write 100 pages of original scripted material in the 30 days of April.” As is the case with NaNoWriMo, “winning” is simply a matter of completing the challenge, and does not imply the superiority of one’s script to those of other participants (though I imagine that some participants choose to submit their work to actual contests following the completion of Script Frenzy).
I approached Script Frenzy in much the same way as NaNoWriMo, using it as an excuse to write for the sake of writing, as it were. Also, I had a very old, (nominally) ongoing game project lying around, which I thought I might turn into a script just for the hell of it. Thus was born yet another incarnation of A Timeless Epic, a project I’ve been failing to complete since 2006 or so.
A Timeless Epic started out as a small RMXP project, specifically designed to be a kind of surreal game in which I could try out experimental code without worrying about quality. In fact, the sound and graphics were purposely poor; for example, I drew every frame of animation without referencing the previous one, which resulted in a visual style nothing short of the absurd. I also made a decision early on to use a 1-bit palette for the game (that is, only white and black, without any intermediate shades of grey).1 The storyline was quite horrible as well, consisting almost exclusively of situations haphazardly thrown together to provide context for the functions I wanted to try.
Initially, the game more or less served its purpose, but as I kept adding new functionality and tacking on more aesthetic atrocities, I found myself growing attached to the project. The ugliness and absurdity of it all appealed to me,2 and I eventually abandoned some of my more “serious” projects in favour of A Timeless Epic. This proved to be a horrible idea, for a multitude of reasons.
Once I started thinking of A Timeless Epic as a real project, I found myself trying to “fix” it and make it, if not good, then at least consistent. Again, this was a game whose appeal was a direct consequence of its lack of consistency. Therefore, this new direction promptly caused me to lose interest in the project. I have since made several more versions of the game3, based on the same general idea and some of the more amusing fragments of the original design, but I haven’t really enjoyed making any version except the first one. I have also played around with spin-off games taking place in the same universe, but with other protagonists and different themes and game mechanics,4 which felt at least marginally more rewarding.
This brings us to the subject of my Script Frenzy project. Ever since the end of last year’s NaNoWriMo, I had been looking forward to Script Frenzy. Still, with about two days left in March, I realised that I had yet to think of an idea worthy of being turned into a script. The rules of Script Frenzy permit any kind of scripted material, the examples given on the webpage being “screenplays, stage plays, web series, TV shows, short films, and graphic novels.” I knew that I didn’t want to write anything film-related; I rarely even watch movies, so the prospect of making one, even in theory, didn’t appeal to me at all. Still, I had a basic grasp of what movie scripts were supposed to look like, while the other suggested script formats were completely alien to me. Furthermore, as my brother frequently writes scripts, I figured that I might as well pick a format that would allow me to ask him for advice. Thus, I decided to write my script as if it were for a movie. As for the actual story, I figured that I might as well pick A Timeless Epic and use Script Frenzy as an opportunity to make some sense of the plot.
I quickly realised that writing a hundred pages in a month would hardly be a challenge at all, especially considering the amount of whitespace in the standard script format. The fact that I did not once entertain the thought of overachieving, even after coming to this realisation, should probably have been a massive red flag. As I prefer to count words rather than pages, I made a rough estimation of a hundred pages being about 30,000 words. I later adjusted my estimation to 25,000 words, which was pretty accurate; my final word count ended up at 23,442. Words.
Where was I going with this post, again?
In writing the pseudo-movie version of A Timeless Epic, I managed to produce more refined versions of some of the existing scenes, as well as some passable dialogue. I also added a couple of new characters and settings. What I did not succeed in doing, however, was to address the issue that had been plaguing this project ever since I started thinking of it as a project in its own right: A Timeless Epic was never meant to be coherent, and every attempt at making it so has consistently been detrimental to my enjoyment of the creation process. Trying to turn the whole mess into a script was the most frustrating thing I’ve ever done to this poor, abused project, and I ended up quitting as soon as I hit a hundred pages, ignoring the fact that it would have taken me at least another hundred to reach a conclusion. As such, one might say that I failed even though I won; the only thing I gained by doing this was a new level of insight into just how much I hate working on this project.
In retrospect, I believe this may have been the best possible outcome, because the frustration I felt while writing my script has brought me to a conclusion that I should have reached long ago: The only way I can ever improve the state of this project is to give up on it. A Timeless Epic started out as a by-product of other stuff, and from now on, that is what it’ll be.5
As for Script Frenzy, I didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as NaNoWriMo, for several reasons. While a novel is a stand-alone work of art, a script is inherently more of a blueprint, making it far more difficult to stay interested if you have no intention of turning it into a finished product. As I knew from the get-go that I wasn’t going to make a movie, or indeed anything, based directly off the script, I found myself churning out text with absolutely no sense of purpose.6 Also, where I spent a lot of time socialising on the forums during NaNoWriMo, I hardly even looked at the Script Frenzy forums. I simply didn’t have anything to say, as scriptwriters don’t feel like “my people” in the same way that novelists do.7 Though I do applaud the initiative behind Script Frenzy, I probably won’t participate next year.



