Author: Dennis Page 58 of 175

Lunch Box

On June 8, 2020

“In the time of a global pandemic, a community gathers online and starts sharing their memories of school lunches. The Good, the Bad, and the Leftovers. These memories of the past and a little bit of fantasy will help them get through the present.”

Instead of talking about how I got involved as an editor for this project, I thought it would be best to share this press release with the full story.

NAMRON Players Theatre announces the premiere of its new Oklahoma StoryWorks production, Lunch Box, on Depot TV on Facebook at 5 pm on June 4th.

Imagine, if you had spent nine months conducting workshops, seminars and over 50 interviews with individuals, families and groups to collect their stories of school lunch. Then you spend weeks distilling those stories down into a 90 minute script for public premiere in June by a company of Oklahoma professional actors.

The culmination of 11 months of work was on the horizon.

And then someone cancelled June.

This is what happened in mid-March to NAMRON Players Theatre’s Playwright-in-Residence and Artistic Director Sheryl Martin.

Almost immediately, Sheryl announced on Facebook, “We are going to do it online.”

She set about doing a complete rewrite of the script, a script that was then rehearsed online and recorded independently from the homes and studios of the acting company, and, finally, is being edited into a video production for air on June 4 at 5pm.

Thanks to a grant from the Oklahoma Arts Council, Oklahoma professional actors Jane Gibbons, Terry Veal, Richard Lockett, Kathy Kelley Christos and Sue Ellen Reiman are featured in the production, with “cameo” appearances by local favorites Kym Bracken and Nicholas Bartell, and the debut of recent Norman North High graduate, Moira Mosely. A Norman Arts Council Arts Projects Grant, and private donors, covered the research and writing of the script for production.

Central to the creation of this new video is the work of Dennis Spielman of The Show Starts Now Studios, who volunteered his services to Norman arts organizations through the efforts of the Norman Arts Council and its Norman Arts & Humanities Roundtable. Dennis introduced the idea of producing the play as a series of vlogs, or video logs, recorded by the individual characters / actors. Local painter, sculptor, and scenic artist, Laura Sullivan, will provide some very special artwork for the production as well.

“I could not have wished for more talented, competent, and inspiring people to work with,” Sheryl says. “They took the script and brought it to life—everyone has made brilliant suggestions that have found their way into the show that you’ll see.”

Lunch Box, while a documentary play much like her first community-based script ,Potluck, differs from the earlier work in a fundamental way, Martin says.

“Changing the medium by which we delivered the play changed the way the play had to work.

“It went from being very presentational, with actors telling what are plainly other peoples’ stories, to being a show in which characters tell their own stories. But those stories are still the stories of folks in our community.”

The Depot has been a collaborative partner with Ms. Martin since the inception of the Oklahoma StoryWorks program in 2018. The Depot was scheduled to be the venue for Lunch Box, but that live premiere was cancelled due to COVID-19 restrictions. For this reason, and many more, The Depot then offered to host the premiere of Lunch Box on its new enterprise, Depot TV, which airs on Facebook.

Lunch Box will remain on Depot TV for up to a week after the June 4 premiere. NAMRON Players Theatre also plans to stream the broadcast on its YouTube channel as well as other platforms.

“We had planned to offer a video element to our original theatrical productions,” Norman Hammon, Managing Director, “but, we had originally planned that to be a few seasons away. COVID-19 changed all of that.”

“It’s been too exciting a process to regret not doing it live,” Martin adds. “That said, I think we’ve created a show that will stand on its own, and that we can perform live, even after this crisis is past.”

NAMRON Players Theatre and the Oklahoma StoryWorks Project: Lunch Box are made possible through the generous support of the Norman Arts Council / Arts Projects Grant Program, the Oklahoma Arts Council Project Assistance Small Grant Program / National Endowment for the

Arts, the Kirkpatrick Foundation, Armstrong Bank, 2×4 Productions, The Depot, The Show Starts Now Studios, David Slemmons and the Friends of NAMRON.

The full film is now available to watch via YouTube and as well as a cast reaction video we made via Zoom.

The Wooden Staff and the Black Envelope

By Dennis

On June 7, 2020

In Imaginary

Upon returning to his home office after getting a snack, Roland finds a magical staff and a black envelope with a dire warning.

Roland’s stomach demanded a tribute. The words he wrote on his computer screen taunted him with their imperfections and lack of direction. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to visualize where to go next, but he knew he was stuck.

“Might as well eat,” Roland grumbled to himself as he pushed away from his desk, imagining himself as a rocket blasting off. “This scene isn’t going anywhere.”

Roland left his home office, thinking about what to eat and not how to write to the kidnapping scene in his latest crime thriller novel. Roland found his husband, Trevor, at the kitchen table, still sorting through Excel data-sheets. While Roland was used to working from home, Trevor was still adjusting to the new normal that they both hoped wouldn’t last forever. Roland had a personal bet that it would take three weeks before Trevor would dress more casually for work. He gently kissed Trevor on the forehead to send a moment of peace to his spouse.

From the fridge, Roland pulled one of the curry meals he made during meal prep day. After microwaving the tray of food, he returned to his office. On the desk was a wooden staff with a black envelope under it. The four-foot long staff was carved out of a white driftwood and had five pointed tips on the top.

“Trevor,” Roland shouted. “Could you come here.”

Trevor walked up to him. “What is it?”

Roland pointed at the unknown objects on the desk. “How did those get on my desk?”

“I was with you in the kitchen the whole time.”

“I know, but how did these get here?”

“Is the window open?”

Roland sat down his curry and checked. “It’s locked.”

“What’s in the envelope?”

Roland picked up the black standard No. 10 envelope, which he only knew the formal name because of Trevor. On the back was a red wax seal pressed with an image of a pair of crossed swords. Without any tools, Roland ripped open the envelope. Inside was a handwritten letter on aged yellow paper.

“When the sun sets, a dragon will emerge at Willson Park,” Roland read aloud. “Use this staff to stop the dragon from destroying your city. May the hearts be with you.”

Trevor let a light chuckle. “This is bizarre.”

Roland sat down the letter and picked up the staff for closer inspection. “Maybe this staff is magical,” he joked as he pointed it at his peace lily in the corner. “I cast magic missile.”

The staff’s tips lit up bright orange and sparked a ball that shot out at the plant. As the plant caught fire, Trevor rushed to the kitchen and brought back their fire extinguisher.

“What did you do!?” Trevor wailed as he put out the fire.

“I don’t know!” Roland defended. “I didn’t think it would do anything. I wonder what else it can do…”

Trevor pointed the fire extinguisher at the staff. “How about you take that thing outside?”

“I should get to the park instead. The sun is starting to set.”

“Are you crazy?”

“You saw what happened. What if there is a dragon?”

“What if there is a dragon? How are you going to stop it?”

“I don’t know yet, but we should go see.”

Trevor sighed. “Fine. Let’s go. I could use the walk and fresh air.”

Tucked away behind their neighborhood, Wilson Park’s most prominent feature was their disc golf course. The playground was tapped off, closed to the public for safety. The park itself was empty except for Roland and Trevor. They stood in an open field near the pond, searching the skies.

All the ducks at the pond quickly flew away, catching Roland and Trevor’s attention as a purple dragon the size of a truck emerged from the pond. Roland pointed the staff at the dragon as the beast marched toward them. Trevor stood behind Roland, armed with the fire extinguisher.

“Keeper of the Staff, my qualm is not with you,” the dragon spoke with forbearing authoritativeness. “I only seek my kidnapped child, but I will destroy those in my path.”

“I was told you would destroy the city,” Roland explained, confused.

“My only concern is for my child, so unless you are here to help me, step aside.”

An idea struck Roland. “Maybe I can help.” Roland waved the staff in a giant circle. “I cast magic portal to the dragon’s child.”

The tips of the staff sparked purple lights. A swirl of bright colors formed in the circle Roland drew in the air until a green dragon the size of a large dog playfully jumped out from the portal. The portal disappeared, collapsing on itself with a cheerful crackle.

“Little one!” the purple dragon exclaimed. “You are safe.”

The little dragon wagged their tail and happily barked at their parent. The parent picked up their child and placed them on their back. With a yawn, the child snuggled against one of the scaly spikes and fell asleep.

“Thank you,” the dragon praised with a forward bow. “Your wisdom and kindness are unprecedented. You forever have my gratitude.”

The dragon walked back into the pond. Roland and Trevor watched in bewilderment as the waves calmed. The staff transformed into duck feathers and blew out of Roland’s grasp, leaving him with no proof.

“I have no idea what just happened here,” Trevor confessed.

“Me neither, but you know what,” Roland said as he put an arm around Trevor. “I think I need to take a hard left with my book and put in a fantasy world.”

This week’s short story was inspired by the following writing prompt: “You leave your room to grab a snack from the fridge. When you get back, there’s a wooden staff on your desk. Under it, there’s a black envelope.”

“You have 1 unread prophecy”

By Dennis

On May 30, 2020

In Imaginary

On the train home, Skylar gets a mysterious notification on their iPhone that says, “You have 1 unread prophecy.”

Skylar took the first available seat with the least amount of people near it on the train. Thankfully, there were only about a dozen other passengers. Skylar had enough of people today when they got doused with a cold brew coffee by some “Karen” for being too cold. On the bright side, the owner promptly and unapologetically kicked the rude customer out. Skylar already thought their boss was the best with how he loved and accepted everyone, including Skylar, but the way he handled the situation further cemented the title. Another customer, a woman with long, blue hair, dropped a $20 in the tip jar after witnessing the incident, further restoring her faith in humanity.

Skylar took a glance at the sun setting on the Atlanta skyline before turning to their phone to find funny memes. Upon unlocking the iPhone, a new notification popped up: “You have 1 unread prophecy.”

Skylar re-read the message several times. They had never seen such a notification and had no idea what app it could’ve generated it. Curious, they tapped the alert. A message expanded on the screen to warn: “At the next stop, the man in the black suit carrying a black briefcase will get off the tram. A woman in a flora sundress with a red purse, silver bracelet, and sunglasses will follow him. The woman will stalk and kill the man for this briefcase.”

Skylar discreetly looked around the tram car and found the two individuals matching the prophecy’s description.

“This is super freaky,” Skylar whispered so softly that no one could hear. “Those descriptions are way too specific to be a coincidence.”

The train came to a stop. As predicted, Skylar watched the two exit. Skylar hastily debated if they should follow or go home, but just as the doors were about to close, Skylar bolted out. As the train went to the next station, Skylar scanned the area, finding the woman following the man with the briefcase while staying several yards away.

Skylar put up the hood from their Legend of Zelda hoodie and proceeded after them. Skylar wasn’t sure what to do if–or when–the attack happens. Skylar kept their phone out, ready to record, but pretended to be scrolling social media like a typical millennial. It seemed to work as no one paid attention.

A few minutes of stalking, they all arrived at the Atlanta Underground. The historic shopping and entertainment center had little to offer that interested Skylar other than the rare concert. Most of the places were vacant or under construction, which equated to a lack of visitors this Wednesday evening. The man with the briefcase pulled aside a sheet of plastic tarp and entered a construction site. The woman glanced around the area, peeked inside, and cautiously pursued.

“Okay, this is suspicious,” Skylar admitted. Skylar looked around the empty tunnel. “You got this, Skylar. Just stay back, film, and get justice.”

Skylar started recording the video and followed inside. The area with its modern furniture made Skylar suspect it would be an office space for a trendy startup or a coworking venue. Neither the man nor woman were in sight.

“About time,” a deep voice grumbled in the distance.

“This took longer to make than I calculated,” the briefcase man replied.

Skylar kept low to the ground, staying behind desks, quickly reaching the conversation’s source. Using the phone like a periscope behind a cubicle, Skylar saw into an unfinished room with various wires hanging from the ceiling. The man with the briefcase stood professionally in front of a bald man in a brown suit with dark red, reptilian skin. Skylar covered their mouth as their heart began to race. Skylar tried to hold the camera steady as they trembled from the sight of the alien.

The man opened the briefcase. All Skylar could see was a green glow and a smile from the alien. An icy blue bolt of light struck the man, causing him to drop the suitcase on the concrete floor. Before the alien could react, another bolt hit him, dropping him to the ground. The women in the flora sundress walked over to the briefcase and looked inside.

“Contraband secured,” she reported into her silver bracelet as she slammed the briefcase shut with her foot.

Freaked out, Skylar decided to sneak out, but immediately in their haste, tripped over a paint can. The woman readied her weapon, and attentively walked over. Skylar gave up the stealth plan and ran. She fired her gun at Skylar, paralyzing them. The woman rushed over, keeping an eye out for anyone else.

“Sorry, kid,” the woman apologized as she bent down. “You were just somewhere you shouldn’t be, but you’ll forget all about this.”

The woman picked up Skylar’s phone, tapped on it with her bracelet, which unlocked it. She deleted the video and found the prophecy alert. The woman let out a frustrated sigh.

The woman spoke into her bracelet. “We got another innocent human getting one of those ‘prophecies’ to our operations.”

This week’s story was my take on a simple writing prompt about a phone buzzing with a “You have one 1 unread prophecy” notification. As of right now, I’m almost at 18,000 words from all of the short stories I’ve written every week this year!

Be sure to join my email list to be notified whenever I made a new post, including my short stories.

I’ve written another story about a different person that also gets a prophetic warning in You Have 2 Unread Prophecies.

Lunch Box Trailer

By Dennis

On May 25, 2020

In Real

A bit of back story. With COVID-19 shutting everything down and hurting the art scene, I reached out to the Norman Arts Council to see if there was anything I do to help via film or live-streaming. They invited me to a Zoom meeting with leaders from other arts organizations in Norman where I offered some suggestions and my help.

One of the groups I connected with was Namron Players Theatre. Writer and director, Sheryl Martin, was trying to figure out how to do her play in the age of a pandemic. After telling me about the story, I suggested that everyone could do their parts as YouTube vlogs. Sheryl loved the idea.

In this article in The Oklahoman from Brandy McDonnell about how local theatres went online, Sheryl thanked me by saying, “Dennis is guiding us through the entire process. He’s doing the editing and making incredibly helpful suggestions. I am not sure that I could have done this without him – or if I had, I’m not sure I would be sane right at this moment.”

I’m happy to have been able to help! Editing for the film is complete. Lunch Box will premiere on Thursday, June 4, 2020, on Depot TV. Learn more at www.namronplayerstheatre.org

Interview Spoilers

By Dennis

On May 23, 2020

In Imaginary

A time traveler’s interview goes sideways when the interviewee accuses him of having met in the past.

The audio recorder Quis held was real but fake in that he disguised the device to match Earth’s technology in the 2010s. The name on his fictional press badge clipped to his unremarkable black suit identified him as “Hank Williams.” The name was phony, too, of course. However, Quis had grown accustomed to the alias, regularly using the persona for interviews.

Quis carefully constructed a different identity for each interview, usually working for a local publication. Big names tended to be open to talking to local nobody journalists, Quis had discovered. Plus, the background helped with his forgettable persona so people wouldn’t follow up with someone who didn’t exist.

“Mr. Praevalens will see you now,” the secretary informed him.

From the photos on her desk, Hank bet she was a grandmother. She had that kind, grandmotherly vibe. She happily led the way to the office of John Praevalens, the CEO of Close Ground. The technology company dabbled in various avenues, catering to security for governments and businesses.

The golden doors to John’s office were a statement. They weren’t massive–they were standard size for French doors but with a pocket design. The doors depicted a battle in an Aztec-influenced art style. Quis made a note to ask John about the doors as the secretary separated them.

Upon entering, Quis felt a slight buzzing sensation. He almost overlooked the unnatural protection, but he recognized the technology.

Why would they have anti-teleportation security? Quis thought. This planet doesn’t have that at this time. It must be something else I’m sensing.

As an end-timer, Quis wasn’t concerned about having an exit strategy. He could phase through any material and retreat to his time machine. Still, he planned his interviews to avoid resorting to dramatic tactics.

“Hey, old sport,” John greeted with genuine kindness as he firmly shook hands with Quis.

The spry, 30-something John wore his trademark black pinstriped suit. Around his neck was a gold medallion depicting the sun in the same style as his door. The flat medallion was palm-sized. Quis had read an article about John’s devotion to the family heirloom, but seeing the necklace for himself added questions.

First, anti-teleportation and an artifact crafted by a deity or one of us, Quis thought. I’m starting to feel I did not prepare for this interview.

The secretary softly closed the doors behind her as she left the room.

John led Quis to a modernism lounge area with an artistic golden coffee table and curvy, white leather sofas.

“Feel free to set your equipment on the table,” John offered as he took a seat on the couch. “Anything I can get you? A drink?”

Quis sat his audio recorder on the table and took a seat in a matching armchair. “I’m good, thank you. We can get started right away. Your time is valuable, so I appreciate you chatting with me.”

“You know, you remind me of someone. Have we met before, Hank?”

“No, I would remember you.”

John shifted around on his couch. “Odd. I’m pretty good at remembering people. Anyway, carry on.”

Quis pushed the record button. “I want to start by talking about your passions. What are some of the projects at Close Ground that excite you the most?”

“Starting deep, are we?”

“The best way to warm up is to jump in.”

John laughed. “You know, this one will surprise you, but I have to say, Exploring Earth.”

“The travel site?” Quis questioned.

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“Why?”

“I believe if people traveled more, and spoke with people from around the world, so much of our animosity would be gone. We got some fantastic contributors too. Amber Way showcases places with such enthusiasm that I swear, I want to visit every place she writes about.”

“There are countless stories to be collected,” Quis commented.

“Are you certain we hadn’t met before?” John asked, almost accusing him of lying.

“People tell me I have a familiar but forgetting face,” Quis joked.

John didn’t laugh. He leaned forward. “Everything about you seems familiar.”

“This is my first time interviewing you, sir,” Quis calmly reaffirmed, trying not to be annoyed.

“Yes, but I tend to remember everyone I’ve met. What are you?”

“I’m Hank,” Quis responded, unsure how to answer.

“I asked, what are you? You haven’t aged since you saved my life.”

Quis was now confused. “I beg your pardon?”

“Command Blackout,” John shouted into the room.

The window blinds dropped close. The buzz Quis had first felt when he entered intensified. All the lights went out except for the lamp that stood beside John. Hank’s recorder was still on.

“Your recording device should’ve lost power, which means it’s not from this world. Care to explain?”

“I-I don’t know what to tell you,” Quis stumbled. “Maybe you can tell me who you think I am, and we can figure this out.”

John took a deep breath and relaxed back into the couch. “You saved my life a hundred years ago, Quis.”

Quis’ jaw dropped. “Wait. You know my real name and a hundred years ago?”

John revealed his fangs. “Vampire.”

“Of course, that makes sense,” Quis said as he leaned back into his chair. “But how do we know each other?”

“You rescued me from that theatre fire in New Orleans and helped me fake my death there. Don’t you remember?”

“I’m a time-traveler,” Quis confessed. “For me, I haven’t saved your life yet.”

“Oh.” John was silent for a moment. “I hope I didn’t ruin anything by spoiling that for you.”

Quis chuckled. “It’s probably good that you told me because, unlike my others, I don’t interfere with the past. I only interview people for prosperity and to understand the universe’s life.”

“Well, shall we continue with the interview?”

“I’d like that,” Quis replied.

With the interview over, Quis returned to the alleyway where he left his time machine, a plain brown wooden door in a wood frame. Next to his door was a familiar green door and a familiar face inspecting a flame thrower.

“Gia!” Quis warmly called out to his fellow end-timer. “Good evening.”

Gia put away the flame thrower in her black leather jacket pocket, which was much larger on the inside. She shouted his name and ran up to him with a big hug. Quis returned the hug.

“Who were you interviewing this time?” Gia asked as she let go.

“John Praevalens. Did you know he was a vampire?”

“I didn’t know that. Fascinating.”

“What was that device you were toying with?”

“Just a flame thrower. I borrowed it from the labs at Close Ground. I need it for my play tonight. Want to come along and watch?”

Quis shrugged. “I’m up for a show. When and where?”

“New Orleans, 1919.”

This week’s short story was inspired by the following writing prompt: “You are the world’s only time-travelling journalist. You use carefully constructed false identities to secretly record your conversations with famous historical figures, and are sworn never to alter the past. However, when you meet with your latest unsuspecting interviewee, they recognize you.”

I took the basic premise of a time-traveling journalist and fitted it in my 16th Phoenix Universe, getting to introduce a new end-timer character, Quis. Quis (which is Latin for “who”) is one of a dozen people from the end of time, along with Gia, Slayer, Loki, Raven, and Kojack, who I’ve also written stories about. More to come as I explore and expand the universe.

Thank you for reading! Be sure to join me on Patreon for early access to my short stories and listen to my exclusive podcast.