“The Screenplay Page”

Hello, Everyone!

Everything on the screenplay page must be able to be seen on the screen.
So, when you’re writing, and are puzzled about whether something
should be on the screenplay page, or not, look at it and imagine
yourself in a theater watching this movie. Where would it fit in
the movie?

Also, always rely on this: People who read screenplays, agents, directors,
producers, production companies, actors, script readers, etc. have stacks
of scripts to read. Therefore, it is part of the screenwriter’s job to strive
to have more white on each page of the screenplay, than black. All
screenplay readers want to be able to “buzz” through each screenplay. And
brevity is part of the art of screenwriting.

I hope this is of help to you.

Best Regards,

Donald L. Vasicek
Olympus Films+, LLC
The Zen of Writing (& Screenwriting)

Award-Winning Writer/Filmmaker Donald L. Vasicek - Los Angeles TV Appearance
Award-Winning Writer/Filmmaker Donald L. Vasicek – Los Angeles TV Appearance


How To Manifest a Miracle
From the Heart Productions

Many filmmakers might consider it a miracle if their film got nominated for an Oscar or Golden Globe or a Spirit Award. They might consider it a miracle if their film got made! Miracles can happen. But, creating miracles like this don’t just begin with a good story or a great director. Creating miracles starts with understanding the universal law of manifesting.

The age of miracles has not passed. We all have an immense power that allows us create. Creating miracles is identifying with the universal laws to create your future. This power is not outside you, it is inside. You are in charge.

You are eternal and infinite. The universal law for manifesting is impartial. It has no way of knowing what you want. It is pure energy and takes the thoughts you send out and returns them to you unemotionally and in the form you asked for.

I meditated on the films fiscally sponsored through From The Heart Productions and asked for abundance. I asked for hundreds of donations before the holidays. Right after my request, we received over 100 donations in a matter of days. However, they were mostly $10 and $20. So you see, I did not ask for LARGE donations for my filmmakers. It’s a learning process.

This law will give you what you believe in. If you think it won’t work or that you don’t deserve it, you are seriously limiting yourself. So, trust me when I say the beliefs you express as your thoughts and feelings are what you are sending to the universe. You need to think like you did when you were a kid, i.e., that you can do anything, your powers are limitless. Go back to your thinking before people began to say, “You can’t do that!”

We are not our bodies; we are spirit living in a body. We came to this earth as spirit. Remembering that is part of creating miracles. You came in with a goal and that goal is part of you. It may be as simple as learning to love you.

To manifest you need to be sending thoughts and feelings of the highest caliber about yourself. Always know that “you are the greatest.” Muhammad Ali tapped into this miracle manifestation on a daily basis. We can learn from him as we daily say to ourselves how great we are.

The power of the universal law is always with you. It will fulfill your thoughts and feelings.

The next step is look at the nature of your beliefs. You may have established belief about what can and cannot be done. You may believe that people can lift a certain weight and no more, run at a certain speed and no faster.

It is a matter of perception and belief. Your ability to work miracles is predicated on how easily and quickly you can move away from world belief patterns and step above them. You need to mentally leave where you are now and step into the unknown.

Imagine the universal law as a shipping clerk in a factory.

It gets your order and he sends out what you ask for, a request for a size 12 gets a size 12. This energy is there to send you what you ask for. Be aware that your thoughts and feelings are sending requests daily to the universal mind and it responds by delivering the same. You need to be sure of what you want and make a strong “ask” with your intentions clearly defined. The power is within you. Use it to manifest miracles daily.

More filmmaker blogs are here http://wordpress.i2net.com/fth

“The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face”

Donald L. Vasicek
First North American Serial Rights
About 600 words

Maybe it was the Mayan symbol for sun tatoo just down
over your rounded, smooth shoulder. Or the sleeveless,
flower print dress garnished with those white, little
daisies against the background of the navy blue cloth, that sort of
of clung on your hard body like a sack. I don’t know what
caused it.

I know I watched your breasts heaving against the
flowers, behind the cloth each time you took a breath. I
knew they were there.

And as you talked, I watched your smooth lips, like
quarters of fresh peach slices, cause some magic. Yes,
it was magic that day.

Up and until then, I always thought of you
as sweet, young and in China. I wanted to help you like I
do Panther now that the embolism took away most of his
right hind leg.

You know, sort of a be-there-all-the-time-guy to catch
you when you fall, I guess. Who in the hell knows? Well,
shit, I know and I’m bleeding to death because of it.

I walk the halls of life like a paper cup blowing
across a parking lot. First, I shoot off like a rocket.
Then, I pause. I wait. I need an attack. And something
comes along and pushes me so violently I zig zag and bump
up and down.

Then, just as brutally, I’m sucked up into this vacuum
and whipped like cream. I fly from side-to-side and drift
up into the air like God gave me a gentle shove. Finally, I
flutter to the asphalt parking lot and a Humvee runs over

Since that day I’ve been a stranger to myself.
It was the words you spoke that day. It was how you
spoke them. It was how you talked limitlessly, unguarded,
secure, happy and confident in yourself. You burrowed into
me with your shyness tapping your finger just above your
mouth on the right side. Your words. Your unruffled face.
The sparkle of your blue eyes against your pristine black,
so black, wavy, soft hair, mauled me. And yet, your hair
was sort of a rust color like Panther’s sheer black coat
when a sliver of sun slices across him like it did to you
across the table from me that day.

It’s a dichotomy, you know. Faultless black with a
wedge of rust in it. Nothing is perfect, or is it?
It were as though I changed from one minute to
the next that day. We met for lunch just like we had all
those times before. To talk film. Books. To talk
writing. Politics. Denver. Columbine. Jeff. Moving to
LA. The Women In Film Group. Your dad. Your mom.
Juney and Anthony. Baltimore. Your script.
My script. My, my, my.

And when you pushed the salad into your mouth, you
know, the lettuce, the tomato, the cabbage, the sprouts,
the sunflower seeds, the carrots, the cucumbers and the
pinch of vinegar and oil, I watched you like I beheld THE
CIDER HOUSE RULES. They sort of folded into each other and
disappeared somewhere inside of you.

It was like reading an Elmore Leonard novel. I couldn’t
wait to get to the next word, the next sentence, the next
paragraph, the next page, the next chapter and the end of
the book. Even though I was working my ass off immersed in
you without even realizing it, the essence of your being
permeated my subconscious mind. It nailed the fortress of
your sum and substance into me. I was hammered into a
consciousness that twisted my life around like a corkscrew.

Before that day, I perceived you as a sweet, young
woman who was bright, worldly, naive about the film
business and your heart, and attractive. I never gave one
thought to loving you. Not one thought before that day.

You were too genuinely nice to me. Too innocent-like. So,
so delightful. You accepted me for who I was. A
writer/filmmaker. Mostly positive, pleasant, but a pariah.

A renegade. I spoke like one about how we treat animals
and how we should treat animals. And about guns and
Charlton Heston and how I wondered if I should send him a
card of praise everytime someone was killed by a gun or
when he read the BIBLE on PBS. Somehow, it reminded
me when I first noticed that our town mayor was
someone who murdered animals and he went to
church every Sunday. How can that be?

You laughed. Just laughed and looked into my eyes.

I’m still not sure if you agreed or disagreed with me. The
thing that probably riveted me to you more than anything
else was how closely you and I were able to talk with each
other. We were able to be our human selves.

Isn’t that remarkable? It made me feel as though
we were one. Since then, I haven’t been able to
think about anything or anyone else except you.
Well, maybe, except Panther and my writing.

How can this be, darling? You’ve gone off with some
handsome dude, a good guy, and I saw you being pregnant,
and I didn’t even get to tell you that I love you.