Worst Voiceover Job - Conclusion

If you've walked in on the middle of the story, don't get lost - check out the Part One and Part Two links first, so you're caught up.

The Worst Voiceover Job in the History of Forever - Conclusion
A fantasy story by Dianna Zaragoza

***

“Ignus…DEPOSTIS!”

“Wow! Did you do that? We did that! Fireballs – awesome! Hah-ah! Take that, turkey!”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute. He’s getting up! He’s getting up!! Next one? Next…uh…”

“Okay…I can do this…I can do this. Ventus…aniME…VORARE!”

“What’s happening? I can’t hang on…wait, the paper…paper blew out of my hand…over there…get it, it’s in the bush…"

"...what’s that black thing he’s holding…oh dear Lord…”

“I can’t see! I can’t see the paper! Oh, we’re dead…dead dead dead…oh no, wait…it’s clearing…I can see again…there’s only one line left!”

“CONJECTUS…SEMIHOMINUS…ABSENTIS! ABSENTIS!!”

“Huh? Where’d he go?”

“What was that? Is he gone? He’s gone? We won?! We won!!!”

“That…That was incredible! Was that on video somewhere? I mean…could I bring a recorder next time? I need some new pieces for my demo reel, and these lines lay down really nicely for me. That is, if there is a next time. I mean, you did pretty much decimate the guy.”

“Another one next week? Can we record? Fantastic, that’s going to be so…I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Wur-Locke. Call Cecil and we’ll get it set up.”

“Hey, you want a coffee? I was just heading over to Chik-Fil-A, and I feel like celebrating. Maybe a chicken sandwich too? That’s stuff like crack…I’m totally addicted. Saving the world gives me the munchies.”

***

And that's it. Thanks so much for hanging in there with me. :-)

Worst Voiceover Job - Part Two

If you missed the first part, never fear, the link is here.

The Worst Voiceover Job in the History of Forever, Part Two
By Dianna Zaragoza

***

“You want me to try this one? Different style? Louder?"

"Hands out like this means louder, right? Right. Okay, here we go…”

“Potestatis…venire…AGE!”

“You want it loud, right? We’re gonna get drowned out in the open like this, but I’ll try."

"Potestatis…venire…AGE!”

“Not age. Well, look. That’s what it says on the page. Is that a typo?”

“Ah-jay? Is that how you say it? All right, one more time! It's getting harder to see. Have I got a flashlight on my phone? There we go, that's better.”

“PoteSTATIS…venire…AH-JAY!”

“You like that? I did too. My voice felt a little stronger – these words have some good mouthfeel. What is that, Italian?”

“Latin? Well, that’s sort of like Italian, right? I would love to see the Vatican someday...”

“Wait…what are you doing with the hands thing? Get behind you? What’s this?”

“’When you signal, read the next line.’ "

"Okay, it’s your call. Let me know when you’re ready. Do I get a mic or anything? Just read it out here, to nobody? I don’t understand.”

“What are you…looking…at…who’s that?”

“What??? Read? Okay…ah…itus cessus…vado…PROGRESSUS!”

“Whoa, what was that? Sideways lightning? We’ve gotta move! Let go of me!!!”

“Read? Are you crazy? That guy just shot lightning at us! Ow! Let go of me!”

“Okay, okay…ah…next line, next line…POTESTATIS…venire…AH-JAY!”

“I don’t wanna die! Cecil, you are so dead! Sweet Mary mother of Joseph!"

"I…I didn’t rehearse the rest of these!”

***

Tomorrow we come to the conclusion...remember to look for it. :-)

Worst Voiceover Job, Part One

Here's the fantasy short story, "The Worst Voiceover Job in the History of Forever", by me.

Enjoy!

***

“Was this the right address? Oh Cecil – not again, man. What were you thinking, sending me here? There’s nothing here.”

“Okay – gotta be a Google Maps mistake. Check again – he said Southern Methodist, downtown Dallas, at University and Hyer, front of Dallas Hall. 

Yep, I’m here, and it’s cold. Wonder if I’ve got enough time to run to Chik-Fil-A for a coffee?”

“Hello? Mr. Wur-Locke? Did I get that right?

Hey, how’re ya doin’? I’m Patrick. Patrick Caputo. Pleased to meet you. Wow – that’s a great cloak there. Are you headed for the opera after this? Very stylish.”

“So…you called Cecil about needing a voiceover artist for some outdoor freelance work? I’m kinda new to his roster, but I assure you, I’ve been at this for a long, long time. Brought my references, if you want to see them…? No? 

What’s this – you want me to run some lines for you?”

“Are you…hoarse? Can’t speak? Okay, that’s fine. Can you write some instructions? I wanna make sure you’re getting what you paid for, y’know. I think I’ve got a sticky note in here somewhere. That’s me, ya know – the old Boy Scout. Always prepared. Here ya go.”

“Hello to you too. So…what were you looking for in a style? These look like…commands, I think? So like…”

“Spells, you say?”

“Okay, I get it. This is some sort of a RennFest thing, right? Okay, how about a Sir Ian McKellan, maybe with a little bit of Christopher Walken to soften it up a bit?”

“This line here? Itus cessus…vado…progressus.”

“Did I do that right? You want more emphasis? Maybe on the last word?”

“Itus cessus…vado…PROGRESSUS!”

“Better? You like that little bit of Walken in there? Adds kind of a sinister touch, I know. Is it just me, or is it getting dark a little early today?”

***

Part Two coming right up...

My youngest boy's "What If..."

I'm still working on my next Sanctuary short story, and it's shaping up nicely. Very pleased with it so far. I've got about 4,000 more words to go before I hit the target though.

I keep a weekly 6,000 word quota these days. It's easier than a daily one. Sometimes I'm really in the zone, and the words just flow. Other days, I'm lucky to crank out a good page of garbage.

It all seems to even out eventually, and one 6,000 word story results. From there I can cut and shape it into something readable.

***

This next story is pretty short by my standards...only about 800 words.

The concept was generated by my youngest boy, who is full of weird and wonderful ideas.

What if...a wizard got laryngitis right before an important wizard's dual?

From that little nugget, I crafted a story, with the super-awkward title, "The Worst Voiceover Job in the History of Forever".

I know...gotta work on those catchy title skills...

This story will require a little more imagination on the part of the reader than usual. It consists entirely of dialogue only - no descriptions.

All right, maybe a picture or two (or several) to help you along...but other than that, you, dear reader, are on your own.

Stay tuned for tomorrow's story...

Family Story - What's In a Name? Or a Poem?

My parents named me Dianna Lorraine when I was born - the first girl in what would soon grow into a world of boys.

I have a total of five brothers and one sister, who didn't feel the need to show up until I'd had to battle through living surrounded by brothers for ten years - and then she turned out to be a tomboy and my hopes of living with some other estrogen in the family were largely shot.

Still, I took comfort in the diva girlishness of my name. The spelling was weird with the extra 'n', and required that I either correct everyone in the world, all the time, or just give in and let them think my name was 'Diana' when it wasn't.

My mother told me the name 'Dianna' was from the goddess Diana of Roman mythology. She was a huntress, and was the goddess of the moon. This really took hold of me, and I read everything I could find on gods and goddesses from a very young age.

Not to mention that, whenever there was a full moon, I wasn't some little hardscrabble kid who moved all the time and battled lots of dumb brothers. I was secretly a goddess and the moon called out to me to come away with it and go to the woods and live the life I was meant to live.

I had a quiet, wild heart and an imagination that wouldn't quit.

The name 'Lorraine' came from my grandmother Lora Delores Stockwell, who was herself wild at heart, and the matriarchal head of our home when I was a child. She was also a writer herself, as her father was before her, and my mother after her. Poetry flowed from them all, and became me and my four burgeoning writers after me. :-)

Lora's father, Clinton Harvard Stockwell, worked in the factories in Washington State, having had to leave the farm in Nebraska to make a living. After he came home, he would make himself some hot chocolate and read the Bible to his daughter in the evenings, or write poems.

My mother and I still have some examples of his poems, such as this one whose title I added. When I read it, I feel as though I can almost hear his voice:

Can't Anyone Sleep - A Poem by Clinton Harvard Stockwell (1888-1961)

When all the lights are out at night

And there’s no moon outside,

And I awake and hear a noise,

My eyes pop open wide.

I listen, and beneath my bed

Hear sounds of scampering feet –

And I know then, they’re only mice

In search of more to eat.

I move a bit – they hear the sound

And oh, how still they keep!

Then I forget, and close my eyes,

And soon am fast asleep.

My writing 'papa'...Ray Bradbury and the Glory of Short Stories

There's way too much in this video to watch the whole thing, unless you're a nerd like me, in which case, you'll probably watch it several times all the way through.

As I have.

I'm following his writing advice, as he talks about starting at 2:33.

He says that, for him, writing novels right away was a danger. I'd already written my first one by the time I saw this, but I agree with him on the importance of the writing of short stories, that it's good training for a writer. By the time you've written 52 short stories, if you don't know how to write well by then, something's definitely wrong.

So far, I'm up to seven finished short stories (that I still have). There were about five others first drafts I wrote, but I lost them - somewhere in my papers, somewhere in my computer. A hard lesson. When you write, make sure you've got your work saved in several different places. A couple of those stories were really beautiful - I miss them.

The first one was an auction piece for a friend at my church - a children's story, with her daughter as the hero of the story. My youngest daughter did the drawings, and I glued the drawings onto the pages where the story was written - a real professional job, let me tell you.

The second was another gift to my sister and her family for Christmas - wrote a fairy tale with all of them in it. Very fun. Those will probably never see daylight again, unless (with any luck) I'm dead by then.

Some others followed, some real stinkers - a bad redo on a Edgar Allen Poe story, a really bad character piece that came out after David Bowie died, an experimental romance in which I used no pronouns at all (just to see if I could do it, and it almost sorta worked).

The one I'm preparing for next week's story is also an experimental piece. I got the idea from my youngest son, who has really great ideas, but not the patience yet to write them down and work them out.  Still hoping for him, though. If engineering doesn't work out for him, then maybe writing...what am I saying???

I guess that's what I'm saying.

I fully intend on writing those 52 short stories Ray Bradbury recommends...although there's no way I can do it at the clip he recommends. One per week? Written AND edited? I do enjoy having a life.

So far, it seems to take me about 2-3 weeks to crank out one finished story, and I'm happy with that speed. So if it takes me 2-3 years to finish this particular challenge, I'm good with that.

My larger story is providing most of my motivation at the moment, but I'm not ruling out other inspiration taking me in different directions.