Viva La Propagandista

Some big decisions about writing.

Okay The Princess and the Witch is coming along well.  Like absurdly well.  Like sooo much better than Flight ever came along well.  What I managed to write for Flight was really really difficult to produce, and the ridiculous amount of ease with which TPATW is coming really makes that obvious.  But, alas, I really, really, like the idea of Flight and I sure as hell don’t want the time I spent learning about the Soviet space program to be wasted.  So what’s a girl to do?

Since starting Full Sail, I’ve written three bits of screenplay, two of which I really like.  Screenwriting is still storytelling that I love, but it uses a completely different method than writing out the prose for a novel.  It’s still very satisfying writing.

Soooo I’m going to turn Flight into a screenplay instead of a novel.  With screenwriting, the focus is strictly on the action and dialogue, so I don’t get caught up in the transitional spaces between scenes and other difficult bits that just didn’t come out when I was working on Flight.  I think as a screenplay, I can actually write it.

I’m going to wait a while before actually starting on it though.  When you complete your studies at Full Sail, you’re supposed to have a nice portfolio that you can send out to whoever it is out there that hires screenwriters, and I want Flight to be in mine.  I’ve only just completed my first real screenwriting class, so I’d like to learn more about film making before starting Flight, so I don’t fill it with movie cliches and just bad writing.  So there you have it.  Coming to a theater near you.

Taking liberties with history

The Soviets would of course only be able to take incredibly shitty cameras into space with them and wouldn’t have nearly the clarity of the American early space photos, but in order for this scene to work the pictures need to be nice.

YES I’VE HAD A BRILLIANT IDEA

I love it when you can trash a scene that’s been frustrating you and completely re-do it.

Just a few things about Jim Jones/Jonestown to consider with Flight:

• Obviously, the charismatic leader.  The already wickedly charismatic Jones presented himself as a father figure to his followers (so much so that they actually referred to him as “dad”), and I think Kosarev would do the same (In the actual space program, Sergey Korolyov was very much a father figure to the cosmonauts, only he was actually you know, benevolent and took his utmost care that they *didn’t* die for him)
• The idea of “it’s for the greater good.”  One of the most striking things about Jones and The People’s Temple is how sane its message was on the surface.  It was an integrated church at a time when civil rights was coming to a head.  It provided housing and care for the elderly.  It had a working agricultural commune where people lived and worked and received gratification from their work long before the move to Guyana.  It was a regular and strong presence in liberal causes in San Francisco at the time.  Even as people were drinking the flavor-air, Jones talked about the higher cause, the good of socialism.  Naturally, Kosarev would justify himself and the fact that he was sending talented young people to their death with the triumph of science, the Soviet Union and the good of communism, so much so that I want there to be a split in between the cosmonauts: the true believers willing to die for Soviet Science, and the doubters who believe in soviet science and all but aren’t sure it’s worth dying over.  
• the culture of secrecy.  The first rule of the Soviet Space Program is that you do not talk about the Soviet Space Program.  In the biography of Gagarin that I read, the author talked about how even 10+ years after the collapse of the Soviet Union it was extremely difficult for him to find people who were there and worked with the program to come forward and talk.  One of the earliest things that Jones did to control his followers was discouraging them to talk to one another.  In the PBS documentary I watched a follower of Jones talked about how Jones would make these wild claims to his congregation about how he was the only true heterosexual and that they were all homosexuals deep in denial.  The guy said that at the time he personally had his doubts about what Jones was saying, but he was afraid of speaking to anyone else about it for fear of seeming not with the group.  Of course the deeper you got into the group, the closer to Jones and the higher in the hierarchy, you learn that dissenters would be beaten and at Jonestown people were regularly beaten and drugged and brutally coerced into submission.  I think in Flight there would be at least one dissenting cosmonaut who mysteriously get the shit beaten out of him and afterwards refuses to talk.  Maybe there’ll even be uncertainty about if some of the missing went into space or were just killed.  More incentive to behave.  It’s better to die peacefully in space!
• a million other small things.  I should find more videos of Jones preaching because I definitely imagine Kosarev having the same manic charisma.  He’d share a lot of his mannerism and whatnot.  

hmmmmmm well it’s good to get my thoughts written down on tumblr.  plus sometimes I just like to talk.  I should do this more often.

I give you…. KOSAREV!!! (not quite done but I wanted to post it) Whatcha think?

That night, exhaustion had only briefly lulled Valentin to sleep when he was awoken by the harsh ringing of his alarm clock.  Filippa rose with him.  She made him coffee, eggs and toast as he got dressed and combed his hair.  He ate quickly, kissed Filippa goodbye, and headed out.  He met Aleksey and Dima on the corner where they waited for the bus that would take them to the training center.  The sun was hours away from rising, and the street lamps lit everything in harsh artificial light.  Dima exchanged a nervous grin with Valentin and rocked back and forth on his feet.  Dark bags underneath his eyes betrayed a lack of sleep.  When the bus arrived, the men took their seats.  Valentin scanned the faces of those around him, wondering who among them would be training with him, and wondering who were the ones who were supposed to keep him alive in space.  When they arrived at the training center, they trundled out one by one. 

“I’ll show you where everything is,” said Aleksey.  They went into the tan building, following him down long, white passageways.  Dima’s head swiveled around in every direction, his eyes eager to absorb every little detail of the building.  Valentin kept his focus ahead of him, trying to set where he was going into his memory.  He noticed that as he, Dima, and Aleksey passed, people looked over at them.  Valentin straightened his back and held his head slightly higher.  They went up several staircases and down another hallway before Aleksey opened a door and they stepped through. They were in a spacious office with a desk in the corner.  The walls were adorned with pictures of rockets.  Crowded in the middle was a group of men in Air Force uniforms who all looked up as Valentin, Dima, and Aleksey entered.  Aleksey smiled and nodded to a smaller knot of men that stood off to the side, and they reciprocated his greetings.  Dima smiled and said hello in a low, polite voice.  Valentin just stood behind him.  He examined the faces of his new comrades, trying to judge who might be his rivals in placement for actual spaceflight, and was surprised to see two female faces among the men.  It wasn’t surprising, he told himself.  After all, Valentina Tereshkova had gone into space at about the same time as when Aleksey had first arrived. 

The door opened with a clatter, and Valentin looked around to see who had entered.  A slightly built man with graying temples came towards the group.  He wore a tweed suit instead of a uniform, but he walked with the brisk firmness of authority.  He came to a stop in front of the group, and stood with he hands clasped in front of him.  He smiled pleasantly, and nobody said anything as he examined the face of each person before him with familiarity.  He sat down at the desk and put his hands on its surface.

“Finally!” he said, “I can see your faces in person!  You may not know me, but I know who each one of you is, as I selected each one of you out of thousands of potential candidates,” the corner of his mouth raised in a smile, “You all are the future of the Soviet Union, the future of communism, and the future of goodness in the world.  That is something that I believe most sincerely.”  He paused to let the weight of his words sink in. 

“My name,” he continued, “is Vladimir Vladimirovich Kosarev, and I will be directing your lives for however long you stay with my program” He began to pace along the edge of the group, “As you may have realized, this is my office, where all the business of this program will be conducted.  As you may have also realized, this program is special.  You will see other cosmonauts here, but do not think that you are not one of them, rather, they are not one of you.  I have not chosen you to be the next always smiling, propaganda spouting spokesperson for the Soviet party; I have chosen you to be true men and women of science and progress.  What you will be doing will be top secret, but it will be greater than anything mankind has ever dreamed of before.”  Valentin glanced over to his new comrades.  Most of them looked at Kosarev with rapt attention, the others were looking around like Valentin.  Kosarev eyed them all with the pride of a king surveying his domain.

“Sir,” said Dima, quietly, “Do you mean that… perhaps, one of us will go to the moon?”

Kosarev laughed, “Well, one country has to land a man there first, right?  I’d greatly prefer it to be The Soviet Union.”  Dima took in a sharp breath so that his whole body seemed to inflate with the thrill of Kosarev’s words.  He clenched his fists and let the breath out slowly through his nose.  The other cosmonauts were smiling, enthralled at the idea.

“Of course, we can’t just send you into space right away,” said Kosarev, “We have to make sure you know what you’re doing.  You all are in for a very long, strenuous period of training.  You will be educated as well as any of our engineers and technicians about the intricacies of space flight: how to leave the atmosphere, how to settle into orbit, how to breathe where there is no air, and, of course, how to return.  Doubtless, you will have met our initial group of trainees…” He gestured toward the small group of men that Aleksey was standing with.

“They will act as your guides and mentors during your first week here.  That is, as long as it doesn’t interfere with their training.  If we are lucky, one of them will be going on a mission soon.”  Satisfied smiles appeared on the men’s faces, and Kosarev leaned back in his chair.  He put a hand to his chin and rubbed his thumb against his cheek.  He narrowed his eyes to inscrutable slits and again scrutinized the faces of the new recruits.

“Would you like to see something?” he said in a low, sly voice, a grin sneaking into the corner of his mouth, “The higher-ups may not be too pleased with me showing you all this, but… I feel you should see it.”  He rose from his desk, and walked over towards the door.  He paused as he reached it, turned around, and gestured to follow him.