An interesting piece that makes a lot of sense

My Blank Page

poor screenwriterThis reality was one of the hardest lessons to learn when I began screenwriting. I thought like many aspirants do, that just because I finished a new screenplay that someone would care and it would sell. It took about five specs into my journey to figure out that it takes many projects in the marketplace for one to succeed. I’ll admit those early scripts were not amazing and it took me years to write at a professional level to compete. Many times on your journey it’s a long dry period where no project moves forward and you can’t get anyone to read it. Other times every script you push garners interest and some brush close to a sale or option. It’s the ebb and flow as you pursue a screenwriting career.

After I began getting paid professionally to write screenplays, some ended up in development and did not get produced…

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Rare Horror

Here’s our list of ten great, obscure subtitled movies you probably haven’t seen set.  You can click on a movie’s name to see its IMDB listing.
pizza
Pizza (2012)
A pizza delivery boy lands in a mysterious circumstance and it works a dramatic change in his life. (127 mins.)
Director: Karthik Subbaraj
Country: India
hr
hansel
After meeting an mysterious girl on an dark stretch of road, a young salesman is invited to a beautiful house with bizarre secrets and no way to escape. (117 mins.)
Director: Pil-Sung Yim
Country: South Korea
hr
dabbe
Turkish director Hasan Karacadag is something of an unusual case. In a nation that appears uncertain… (119 mins.)
Director: Hasan Karacadag

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Flash Fiction-One Blade

Posted: October 26, 2016 in Uncategorized

Vincenzo Bilof

GREETINGS!

Welcome to the new website! I hope you like it. To get things started, I’m going to feature a flash fiction piece that placed third (or maybe second, I honestly can’t remember) in a flash fiction contest at Horror Novel Reviews back in 2013. I figure the best way to introduce a new website is by showing off a piece of writing. 

Enjoy! 

One Blade

By Vincenzo Bilof 

    Left to die alone. One blade of grass the mower can’t cut.

            “Cut it my way,” the wife says while I’m lost in a world of dragons and magicians, a realm where I can die and live, live and die.

            “Be a man and get the damn weeds. Those weeds are all over my flowers.”

            A baby screams. Mine.

         The weeds have been murdered, but one blade of grass waves in the wind…

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From Dreamswept Fuckscape

Posted: October 25, 2016 in Uncategorized

Big Ape Diary

From dreamswept fuckscape

you surfaced to skin.

From sleepsunk night

through half hidden borderlands:

the interstitial spaces of want and have

to the flatlands of a needsome Now,

and found like all surfacing, the superficial

safety of non-committal

pales beside the depths of mingled DNA-

where we exist at truest, 

Where communal histories dance

in millennial veils.

 

Dreams, our clothes at their most naked

and in the awakening we feel

all surfacing a lie-

and yet, where we intersect

at the boundaries of sentences and skin

weaving ourselves to the depths of us,

searching for the other,

we imprint our loves

on the descent into us,

drag the ghosts of our impressions of them into cores

where bodies cling to crusts

and intellect slips to the mantle of our being.

We make phantoms of ourselves

and bind ourselves to myth.

 

We live tangential to life

pulling the…

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Coughing out the lightness in

smoke and spiral motes of dust

mutable bed and our body acquisitions

cuttlefish ass damp from before

if I was not so ignorant

i would feel again

the tapestry of tattoos on her flank

precise inks more trustworthy

than my cock of threat

in denial and veiled seduction

pressed against her

the hum of bee air conditioning

positioning for me with rump pressure

she felt I could make her sparkle and shine

instead that tremored gasp

returning to her back

looking with a certain knowing

that I was a flake

who would leave and  betray

adding to that pile of detritus

and awful decay that was her life

they told me about the garden of love

which I knew never existed

just like the dew settles

a feeling came over me

reaching touching feathery leaves

someone lurked in the darkness

a glimpse a furtive shadow

i needed to draw out of the gloom

no fee to be paid

as wallet forgotten

my fingers picked a rose

holding it aloft to the sun

shadow emerged reaching also

for the rose

sunlit face exquisite beauty

naked radiance for me to see

entranced entwined enthralled

in a boiling swell of passion

i was consumed

infused with the flowers and trees

the garden in this garden

i would remain

many stories can be untold

but this one cannot

i belong to that once furtive figure

no more in the density of foliage

but with me

together as one

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Together always

22 years of marriage to be celebrated

Follow the link to see my wife’s Photography website award winning art you can own and desire “The first half of the 20th century belongs to Picasso, and the second half is about photography. They said digital…

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