Where do I begin? Where do I start? Studying the principles of writing screenplays for the past few years has taught me a thing or two about life, and
my life. About people, their quirks,
idiosyncrasies, and their life. And about myself. Oh yeah, and I learned how to write screenplays that aren't half bad too (or I'd like to believe).
It doesn't take years of study to understand that great screenplays make great movies.
Step 1 To writing a good screenplay: Choose the right beginning.
And that's how I'd like to start my blog. . From the beginning....
....before I left home for California....before I returned home from war....further back before I grew up in Philadelphia....before my time with the Marines...even further before I was an infant at a refugee camp....further back still before the ocean voyage to Hong Kong.
Yes....there.
In that weird looking building with all the weird wires sticking out of it. With motorcycles blasting by, horns blazing below. Yep.
There. In the dusty city once known as Saigon, now referred to as Ho Chi Minh city.
I arrive.
I arrive like most babies do in this world. But I promptly began my unofficial S.E.R.E.'s training (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape) which I almost didn't survive at around age 6 months. Carried by my mom and accompanied by my family, we left Vietnam on a ship to Hong Kong. We Escaped the corrupt Vietnamese government. We Resisted a life of poverty and oppression. We Evaded being caught by communist ships and being thrown into jail or executed.
With literally nothing more than the clothes that they were wearing, everyone on the ship starved for weeks.
I hear that I was lucky to have made it, and unlike what I imagined in my head, it had nothing to do with my bad ass persona. In actuality, it was more like me screaming and crying at the top of my lungs for food, and when I didn't get any...(because there wasn't any)....I got really tired from all the screaming and crying that I did for weeks, and I lay very quietly. With most people on ship rumoring that I wasn't going to make it...some thought it would be best to at least to have me thrown overboard to end the suffering.
My family didn't give up hope, and because of that, people were later allowed off the ship to search for anything they can find to eat...and I was able to SURVIVE by feasting off bottom feeders that my mom fed me by hand. None of which I remember...but more on this later.
When I said that I'd like to start at the beginning...as you can see, yes I really meant the beginning.
I'll start here, because if you've read this far, I bet it's safe to say that you're either really bored, or you're trying to get to know me.
For all those that fall into the category of the latter, I feel it's true that you need to know where you've been, in order to know where you're going.
Likewise, to know who I am, I invite you to read about my life, and see where I've been.
Maybe after you can help me figure out where I'm headed.
Turn the page.
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