In celebration of Theatrefolk’s release of my melodrama She Wrote, Died, and Then Wrote Some More, here’s a short excerpt from the script. Hope you enjoy. :-)
Writer Alina Deveraux’s unveiling party for her new book, She Writes With Quill – A Moment by Moment Recollection of the Life of Alina Deveraux Up Until Now, is not going well. The gala is sparsely attended, there’s zero interest from publishers, and now . . . she’s been murdered. Sort of. On top of that, a masked figure has come to rob her. But what could this masked figure want?
Setting: The Parlor of Alina Deveraux
At Rise: Alina lies dead on the floor, covered by incriminating evidence in suspicious places. A masked figure enters, notices Alina’s body, and crosses to it.
Elizabeth: Oh, it seems Ms. Deveraux has taken dead. And on this, her most special night. What a pity. But I came not to praise Ms. Deveraux, but to . . . steal her book and make it my own. (Crosses away and moves to the book. Alina’s eyes open as she decides what to do. Finally she jumps up as the masked person is lifting the glass case.)
Alina: Unhand my book, you fiend. (They stare in silence.)
Elizabeth: You’re not as dead as you appeared to be.
Alina: No. Clearly, I am not.
Elizabeth: (Understands.) You were faking your death to drum up interest for your book. I’ve faked my death many times for the same reason.
Alina: Who are you?
Elizabeth: Ask me who I was.
Alina: Were you a different person in the past?
Alina: Then I suppose it doesn’t matter who you were.
Elizabeth: That would appear to be true. Very well. (She rips off mask and Alina stares at her.) Now do you know who I am?
Elizabeth: I am Elizabeth Poe. (Alina continues staring at her.) Nothing? (Alina shakes her head no.) I have been gone a long time. No matter. I, Ms. Deveraux, was the first modern writer to use only a quill. That’s right. And I, too, had one best seller! “The Great Adventures of a Girl Named Carmen Who Was Raised On a Barn by a Family of Goats: A Love Story.” (Alina remembers it.)
Alina: I remember that one. It had its moments.
Elizabeth: You bet it had its moments. Unfortunately, my quill broke when I suffered a bit of . . . “writer’s rage.” (Alina looks on bewildered.) I haven’t written anything since, but my thirst for the spotlight has not been vanquished.
Alina: So you’re going to steal my book?
Elizabeth: And sell it as my own.
Alina: But it’s my life story.
Elizabeth: And it will still be your life story, only now . . . it will be written by me, your long lost non-related sibling.
Alina: That . . . is an awful plan.
Elizabeth: Only if it doesn’t work. If it does, however . . .
Alina: I’ll tell them you’re lying.
Elizabeth: But you faked your death.
Alina: I’ll unfake my fake death.
Elizabeth: Then I’ll unfake the unfaking of your fake death, thus making it . . . a real death. Right?
Alina: I have no idea. As matter of fact, I think if I unfaked my fake death, as I previously stated . . . I might actually be making my fake death real.
Elizabeth: It is all rather confusing. Very well. Let’s use plain speak. I’m going to murder you, which will make it highly unlikely that you can do anything to wreck my plans.
Alina: Is that a threat?
Elizabeth: No. It’s a promise. (She smiles.) And by the way, your first novel was a joke.
Elizabeth: That’s right. A joke. And . . . your quill . . .
Alina: Don’t you speak ill of my quill.
Elizabeth: Your quill’s work . . . was very substandard. (Alina is furious. She reaches for anything and finds the glass with the nectar and throws it in Elizabeth’s face. The nectar goes into Elizabeth’s mouth because it was open. Alina looks stunned. Elizabeth tastes the liquid. Smiles.) Ah. The nectar from the rare mamey sapote fruit. Delicious. Do you know they make a variety of this that is poison? I mean, they also make an “I can’t believe it’s not poison!” type but. . . (starts to cough.) . . . oh my goodness . . . oh my goodness . . . this is the poison one. You poisoned me!
Alina: Technically, no. I just threw it in your face.
Elizabeth: With my mouth open!
Alina: Well, who stands with their mouth opened in a fight? I mean, seriously . . . (Elizabeth collapses.) I suppose it doesn’t matter now. Humph. (Alina sighs. Then Marian enters and notices another body.)
If you liked this and you’re interested in more information about the script, performance availability, or the answers to all of life’s questions, please feel free to check out the Theatrefolk website by clicking on the cover below:
Here it is. Steven's blog, where his thoughts about things are revealed. Good luck.