Writing WK
Initially, White Knuckles was to be written more like a play or a poem to ensure that the actors (and the director) didn’t get married to the words on the page. N. Itrik called the (very early) version of the story a “scroutline” – (script + outline), but I know he was just trying to insult me. I was just trying to remind myself we wouldn’t need the words at all—that with the right guidance and the right intentions - truthful dialogue would come naturally. For practical purposes however (like financing, scheduling, budgeting, creating sides, getting actors and agents and my editor on board). N. Itrik was right – I needed to write a normal script. This excerpt is from an early chapter of the emerging “old people story” (ugly typos and all).
He eats. They are silent.
He: What’s wrong?
She: I was thinking of Cheryl.
He: What about.
She: I think she doesn’t want to see me.
Silence between them. He looks at her for a long time. Sits back. Changes the subject.
He: How would you like to rent an RV.
She (blankly): For what?
He: I don’t know, to hit the road. We could drive someplace. Maybe we could drive to st. louis.
She: What’s in st. louis?
He: I don’t know. There’s that arch.
(she stares at him –)
He: Well then maybe lets go to the great smokey mountains, what do you think of that?
(she thinks)
He: You’ve always wanted to do that. Saw you got that book on Tennessee.
She: Okay
He: Want to? Really?
She (after a long pause): I don’t know.
He: It’ll be good for us.
She: Why don’t you go?
He (suddenly frustrated): Don’t change your mind - what’s not to know? Come on, for Christ sake, why would you change yo——(He suddenly has a fit coughing, choking).
She watches him. He gulps down his water – trying to get control – he’s hacking so hard he can’t complete his thought. He looks at her for help – but She just watches, offering only a blink.

