Archive for the ‘National Novel Writing Month’ Category
It’s National Novel Writing Month
It’s national novel writing month folks and though long time readers know I’m no fan of the printed word, I’ve been trying to sell my screenplay President Lightning. Unfortunately, Hollywood is so liberal, I’ve hit a brick wall. If any of you are movie people reading this, let’s do lunch. Here’s my pitch:
The year is 1936 and a dark storm is brewing over Europe. In Germany, a mad man is planning to prove the superiority of the Aryan people when he hosts the Olympics in Berlin. When Hitler’s goons kidnap Jesse Owens, it looks like nobody will be able to stand up to the Nazis. In New York, a weak bodied man sits in the Oval Office as his predecessor tells him to grow a backbone. When the hopes of the free world rest on you, even a cripple needs to stand up for his country. He was born to lead, but he was made to run. Franklin Delano Roosevelt is President Lightning.
It has been suggested to me that if I had a novel published, people would take my screenplay more seriously so this month I’m going to work on producing President Lightning, the novel. I don’t know what the market for historical fiction is, but I can’t see how this novel doesn’t sell. Keep in mind that the idea is to write the whole novel before revising it, so I know it’s a little rough.
Chapter 4: The Reckoning
Jesse Owens paced inside his cold steel cell. Not much bigger than a couple of phone booths, the only light Jesse could see came through a the cell bars. Jesse rested his powerful athletic body in the corner and began to sing to himself. It was the old spirituals that comforted Jesse even now in his confinement in Berlin. A lot of lesser men would have been praying for somebody to rescue him, but being a Republican was as natural to Jesse as being a runner was. He was going to pull himself up by his own boot steps.
A half a world away, President Roosevelt took a deep breath and stretched his legs on the south lawn of the White House. Standing next to him was Herbert Hoover, dressed in a long coat and his Stanford scarf. Tucked under his right arm was Roosevelt’s faithful Scottish Terrier Fala.
“Is this really necessary Herbie?” mumbled the President under his breath.
“You know it is Franklin. I don’t want you just fast, I want you quick too. Now get to it,” with that Hoover tossed the startled dog to the ground and Roosevelt began to scamper after him.
“Damn you Hoover, why does everything have to be so hard?” coughed Roosevelt, regretting his morning smoke.
“Because anything worth having is going to be hard Franklin. You Democrats need to learn that. It can’t all be government hand outs,” laughed Hoover.
And so it began. Carefully, hidden from view of the Washington press corps, Hoover trained Roosevelt every day. By May, the Olympics were looming and Roosevelt’s 100 meter time was still only 10.6, a full .3 seconds slower than Jesse Owens. He’d never be able to compete with the Germans at this rate. He couldn’t help, but wonder why winning meant so much to him now. He was brought up to believe that participating in athletic competition was victory. Now, he was training with the single minded determination he didn’t know he had within himself. He knew now, he would do whatever it took to run their socks off.
