Character Work

This is a small writing sample demonstrating character development for writing and developing show concepts, scripts, and screenplays. A full sample is available upon request but this shows a bit of my writing style.

He was a simple man. Not the kind that would impress you or that would be desirable by most accounts. He had longer, messy, curly brown hair and was slightly balding on top though he didn't seem to notice. He didn't dress to impress but instead wore unflattering plaid shorts with old t-shirts printed with childish super hero phrases or those new but made to look classic vintage shirts they sell for like $10 at Target for those who want something "cool" looking but don't actually shop at thrift shops. His musical tastes were equally childish as he loved teen pop more than his thirteen year old daughter and yet also if you caught him on the right day you'd hear him singing loudly to old Broadway tunes or during the holiday season he'd be belting out the classics. His voice was OK, nothing overly impressive, but his love for music was one of his most endearing qualities. He was a theater kid in a grown up body. He was always setting up the sound system in the house so that we could really hear the bass in the tracks or so that when we watched a movie, we could "really feel like we were in it."

He was quite out of shape as his eating habits were those you would see on a Dr. Oz special when talking about what not to eat. He loved bacon more than dessert and yet one day I came home to find that he had eaten an entire box of fresh baked cookies from the Raley's bakery. I always tried to get him to eat healthy and for one month, when he was, I suppose trying to sleep with me, he actually went vegetarian and allowed me to cook for him and I relished in the opportunity and somehow loved that awkward smile he would get when he discovered the food was quite tolerable. During this time he would go to the gym as well with me and I was so impressed with his efforts. Sadly, his dedication to his diet faded in and out, kind of like his desire for me romantically, but he was always talking about how out of shape he was. He loved to show everyone old photos of himself back when he was at his "fighting weight" as he would call it and he was always saying how this was the year he was going to get in shape but he didn't have to lose a pound for me. I was happy with him just as he was.

One of his first jobs, shockingly enough, was as a ballroom dance instructor. He would brag about this regularly and we would practice the waltz or cha cha cha around the living room or kitchen like Fred Astaire and Ginger Walters. He wasn't actually very good at it but he sure had an ego about it. He would always correct me and tell me we needed to start on a different foot. I knew he was wrong but I would let him instruct me because he seemed so happy when he was doing it. I knew he liked the control, so I gave it to him.

He also had an obsession with games, especially chess. In fact, almost everyday he would lock himself in his bathroom and play chess on his cell phone for hours. The faint sound of cheesy classical music, the back drop music for the game, would trickle out of his ear buds into the other room and it was about that same time each day that the heavy aroma of marijuana would fill his bathroom. It was a fragrant skunk like smell that seemed to have taken over the 2nd drawer in his bathroom where he kept his vaporizer but it would trickle slowly into all of the house. I was used to the smell but I did wish he didn't use it as often as he did. I knew for him, however, that not smoking would never be an option as he used the ground up herb like an old medicine man would have in the old days to cover up his heartache, anxiety, pain, guilt and shame. There were many nights I would hear the faint sound of heart wrenching music which always told the story of unrequited love and I would hear him heavily weeping. It was as if the music was screaming the truth of his collapsed love affairs directly into his heart. Then the smell of marijuana would start climbing through the door and within minutes his entire mood would switch and he would be calm again and back to a place of stability.

I never demanded an explanation on anything as I knew that he was not one to be pushed. If you started asking him things, he would simply shut down. He was someone who operated on his own timetable and he was a man who felt his entire survival was dependent on his ability to be in control. He was one of the most stubborn men that I have ever met and when he made up his mind on something, there was no switching it. He was determined, driven, and the majority of his self worth came from his career and he was most impressed with his own IMDB resume. In fact the term career driven didn't even start to describe him. His mood could literally change within seconds if he thought something good was happening work wise. At the same time, if it was not going as planned, it was as if his entire world imploded and if you were with him, you would feel the brunt of his disappointment.

He was a moody lover who didn't seem to know what he wanted. When he felt like being affectionate, he would shower you with kindness, love, and you would feel on top of the world. He would chase you with tenacity and it wasn't uncommon for him to literally be unable to resist me. He would wrap his arms around me, tell me all the ways he loved my body, and carry me to the bedroom like the king of the jungle showing off his lioness. But there was never any stability because his moods switched faster than the ocean tides and you really never knew what you were going to get. He could go from overly supportive to downright careless and mean with no reason or known cause. He would go from wanting every inch of me and being willing to do anything to get my attention to being completely detached, uninterested, and almost annoyed that I was around. Loving him was like living in constant instability but there was still something about it. It was that intangible thing that makes you want something that you know you shouldn't have. In fact, I think if an advertiser could figure out what that thing is, they could probably sell anything.