Beyond Play Scripts

Planning your scene 3

About Scripts 4-5

Example 1: The Lie Tree 6-7 By Frances Hardinge

The Lie Tree play script 8 Adapted by Jake Hope

Example 2: 13 Hours 9-10 By Narinder Dhami

13 Hours play script 11 Adapted by Jake Hope

You Killed Me 12 By Keith Gray

River of Ink 13 By Helen Dennis

Petunia Perry and the Case of the Ugly Pigeon 14 By Pamela Butchart

Mind Map 15

What next? 16

Beyond Play Scripts

Beyond Booked Up is excited to present…two brand new play scripts just for you! We have turned scenes from two Bookbuzz books into scripts that you can act out in groups. Plus there are three more scenes, so you can try writing a play script yourself... There are also tips about writing scripts, and a mind map to help you get started.

Contents

2

What will happen in your scene? How does it begin and end?

Who is in your scene? How are they reacting to their surroundings and what is happening?

When is your scene set? What year? What season? What time of day? Why have you chosen this?

Where is your scene set? Why have you chosen to set it here?

Write any other ideas you have in this box….

Planning your scene

When you’re planning your short play script, you need to think about all the elements. Use this sheet to help you.

3

A script is a piece of writing that’s written to be performed. This could be on stage, radio, television or film. A script tells actors what to say and do. It also helps them know how to say and do it.

About Scripts

The names of the characters appear on the left hand side of the page

Explain features of the room or setting, or describe what it looks like

When a character comes into a scene use ‘Enter.’ If they leave a scene, use ‘Exit.’

These are stage directions. They tell the reader important things like what the character looks like or how they are feeling

What a character says stays on the same line as their name

Writing a ScriptWriting a script is a great way to be creative. You can control what the characters say and what they do. But you don’t have to describe every detail – the actors and director can decide things too.

Features of a play script

The main features of a play script are:

Dialogue - what the characters say

Stage directions - instructions to actors and the director. Put them in brackets and italics.

Start a new line each time the speaker changes

Nathan (Mumbling.) But he’s done nothing wrong.

Mum We know that, love. It’s a mistake. A stupid mistake.

Mum and Hannah exit (to another part of the house) comforting each other. The doorbell rings. Josh’s voice comes through the letterbox.

Script layout - Example

4

Character Breakdown

Once you’ve chosen your story, make sure you really know your characters. You can use the mind map at the back of the booklet to help.

Read through the scene again and write down all the characters in it. Decide if there are main characters and secondary characters. Are some more important than others?

For each character try to answer these questions:

What was he/she doing just before this scene?

What would other people say about him/her?

How does the character think about him or herself?

How does the character feel towards the other characters?

Mood of the Scene How do the characters feel? Are they nervous, happy or scared?

Think about the overall mood of the scene. Is it scary, funny or exciting? How can you show this in your script?

What is happening?What happens in the scene?

Is it a big event?

Do you find out something important in the scene?

Or is it leading up to something exciting or scary?

Stage directions can help you to explain what is going on in a scene, but what the characters say needs to really show this.

Use stage directions if there is an action that is needed for the scene to make sense. When you’re writing your script, imagine you didn’t know the rest of the story – would you understand what was happening?

Writing your script There are some examples in this booklet that you could turn into scripts. If you don’t want to use one of these, then why not choose a scene from another book you like?

When you’ve chosen your scene, it’s time to get planning! At the back of the booklet there is space for you to plan your script. Think about everything you need to include. But remember - not everything in the story has to make it into the script.

5

Exam

ple 1

For a long time, Dr Jacklers looked at the patient. Myrtle hovered nearby, twisting her hands and answering his questions, while silver tears slid hypnotically down her face.

Faith sat nearby, her thoughts churning. Her father on the beach, her father in the dell. Why was her mother so determined to lie?

‘I am so very sorry, Mrs Sunderly,’ the doctor said at last. ‘I cannot advise you to hope. His neck is broken…’

Myrtle gave a small, vulnerable noise, somewhere between a gasp and a sob. She turned away and bowed her face over her handkerchief.

‘I wish we had never come here!’ she said, her voice a little muffled. ‘Those trespassers… he was convinced they would steal his rare botanic specimens. So he set gin-traps, and kept rushing to that dreadful dell every time he heard a noise out there. I suppose he must have fallen in the dark and struck his head against something…’

‘Your husband was found in the dell?’ The doctor’s eyebrow’s rose. ‘Madam, I must confess that surprises me, given the nature of his injuries. I am loath to grieve you with such details-’

‘Please.’ Myrtle turned back to face him, her mouth tremulously resolute. ‘Do not spare me. I must know.’

‘Well… I fancy two ribs are cracked, suggesting a longer fall than you could suffer in that dell. The wound on his forehead is deep, but there is another great bump to the back of his head,

under the hair. To me that looks like a longer tumble, with some rolling. Mrs Sunderly – there is no delicate way to ask this – is it possible that he was found somewhere else, and that your friends have misled you in order to spare your feelings?’

‘My husband is dead,’ Myrtle said softly. ‘What feelings do I have left to spare?’

Faith felt the colour rise to her face. She could brush away her mother’s lie like a cobweb. But how many of her own strands of untruth would she destroy with the same gesture? Besides, her last experiment with truthfulness had burned her to the core.

‘Well,’ the doctor said under his breath, ‘perhaps the drop was high enough… if he managed to pitch forward with some force.’ He sighed. ‘Pardon the question, but did your husband appear preoccupied yesterday? Out of spirits?’

Myrtle stiffened, her face pale and pained.

‘Dr Jacklers,’ she said with fragile hauteur, ‘what in the world are you trying to say?’

Faith knew exactly what the doctor was trying to say. In a flash, she realized how this must look to him. The disgraced man creeping out of his house by night to plummet to his death, rather than face a terrible scandal…

‘Forgive my clumsiness.’ The doctor looked mortified and out of countenance. ‘I am simply trying to understand…’

The Lie Tree By Frances Hardinge Extract from p134-137

6

‘Perhaps,’ Myrtle said with dignity, ‘this is a matter we should discuss in private.’ She turned to her daughter. ‘Faith, will you please go to Mrs Vellet… and have her stop the clocks.’

Faith took her cue and left the room, feigning a few receding steps. Then she stooped and put her ear to the keyhole.

‘…a whole decanter before bed?’ Dr Jacklers was asking, ‘Was this usual?’

‘Of late it has become so.’ A sigh. ‘It is not the first time he has suffered a fall. It is just the first we were not able to conceal.’

Faith smothered a gasp of pained indignation. How dare her mother say that? How dare she paint the Reverend as a blundering drunkard, tripping over his own feet? Then Faith remembered her father sitting torpid and yellow-eyed, his room filled with the exotic, clammy scent. What if her father really did have yet more secrets?

‘Dr Jacklers, I do not know what to do.’ Myrtle’s voice was low and tearful. ‘I am so used to hiding my husband’s… habits… and I would wish to hide them still, to protect his memory. But now you have made me frightened. Did you really think my husband had “pitched himself forward with force”? Will everyone else think that too?’

‘Mrs Sunderly…’ The doctor stopped abruptly, with a slight gasp. There was a short silence.

Faith took her ear from the keyhole and peered through instead.

Her mother was standing very close to the doctor. Her ungloved hands were wrapped

beseechingly around his, a strange, shocking intimacy. The doctor’s face was brick red.

‘I have children,’ Myrtle said. ‘I am desperate. Please tell me what to do.’

‘I…’ The doctor coughed and dropped his gaze. ‘You have my word that I will do everything in my power to… to spare you and your family trouble. My solemn promise. The injuries… there are ways that, ah, things can be phrased. Please, please do not distress yourself, Mrs Sunderly.’

He did not, Faith noticed, make any attempt to pull his hands away.

Faith drew back from the keyhole, her face burning. She could not bear to see or hear anything more. A warm, slow anger was filling her bones like thunder, and it had nowhere to go.

Check out the next page to see how this scene has been turned into a play script...

7

Exam

ple 2

There are four parts in this scene, three are speaking roles.

Characters:

Dr Jacklers

Myrtle

Faith

Father

Set in a library, the body of a man, Faith’s father lies oustretched and lifeless. Dr Jacklers leans over investigating it, whilst Myrtle and Faith watch in distress.

Dr Jacklers I am so very sorry Mrs Sunderly. His neck is broken.

Myrtle (Sobs and whispers) I wish we had never come here! He was convinced those trespassers would steal his rare botanic specimens. That’s why he set gin-traps and kept rushing to that dreadful dell every time he heard a noise out there (pauses as if for thought). I suppose he must have fallen in the dark a and struck his head.

Dr Jacklers Your husband was found in the dell? Madam, I must confess, that surprises me, given the nature of his injuries. I am loath to grieve you with such details.

Myrtle Please! Do not spare me. I must know.

Dr Jacklers Well… (pauses whilst looking investigating the body) I fancy two ribs are cracked. The wound on his forehead is deep and there is another bump at the back of his head. To me that suggests a longer fall than in the dell. Mrs Sunderly – there is no delicate way to ask this – is it possible that he was found somewhere else and that your friends have misled you in order to spare your feelings?

Myrtle My husband is dead. What feelings do I have left to spare?

Faith (Clears her throat as though disguising some deep emotion)

Dr Jacklers (Slowly and thoughtfully) Well, perhaps the drop was high enough if he managed managed to pitch forward with some force. Did your husband appear in any way preoccupied yesterday? Perhaps out of spirits?

Myrtle (Visibly stiffens) Dr Jacklers, what in the world are you trying to say? Perhaps this this is a matter we should discuss in private? (Turns to address Faith) Faith?

Faith Yes, mother?

Myrtle Please go to Mrs Vellet (pauses to think)… and have her stop the clocks.

Faith Yes mother. (Faith walks as though to exit the stage, but pauses and crouches so as to hide and listen.)

Dr Jacklers He took a whole decanter? Before bed? Was this usual?

Myrtle (Sighs) Of late it has become so. It is not his first fall, just the first we were unable to conceal it.

Faith (Clenches her fists in anger at what she hears)

Myrtle I do not know what to do. I am so used to hiding my husband’s habits and wish to hide them still, to protect his memory. But you have made me frightened. Do you really think my husband pitched himself forward? Will everyone else think that too? (She reaches out and grasps the doctor’s hand).

Dr Jacklers You have my word. I will do everything in my power to spare you and your family family trouble. There are ways that things can be phrased. Do not distress yourself, Mrs Sunderly.

Faith (Gasps before tiptoeing out of view).

The Lie TreeAdapted by Jake Hope

8

13 HoursExam

ple 2

‘I’m going to ask you some questions,’ she says evenly. I wonder if she’s their leader as she’s taking charge and the others aren’t arguing. ‘Don’t shout for help or make any kind of loud noise. Not that anyone will hear you, anyway. Your neighbours are too far away.’

She’s right.

‘Who are you?’ I ask jerkily, trying to control my panicked breathing. ‘What do you want?’

The woman ignores me and looks at Mum. ‘Do you live here?’

‘Yes.’ Mum’s reply is no more than a faint whisper.

‘How did you get into the house?’ I ask.

But she isn’t answering my questions. She’s still looking at Mum. ‘Who else lives here?’

I jump in. ‘My dad and my three brothers are at work, but they’ll be home any minute.’ Somehow, the lie comes out smoothly, from nowhere, even though I’m still in a state of shock.

‘Oh, great!’ the loud woman bursts out explosively. She’s shaking her head, a fiery ball of crackling, electric rage. ‘That’s just great. Wonderful. Our very first chance to prove ourselves and it’s over before we’ve even started!’

‘Let’s get the hell out of here,’ the giant by the front door growls nervously, and my heart leaps with relief. ‘I knew this was a mistake. I just knew it was all going to blow up in our faces.’

‘Unless, of course, she’s lying…’ the other man

says in his quiet, considered voice.

I try not to react, but I can’t help blinking nervously. The tall woman doesn’t move. She drills me with her laser stare. ‘Don’t lie to me.’

‘I’m not!’

‘If six people really lived here, there’s no way we would have been informed that this house was empty.’

The loud woman groans and begins pacing up and down in an agitated manner. I can see her fists clenched inside the black gloves they’re all wearing.

‘Just stop messing about and tell us who lives here,’ she demands. I can almost smell the aggression she’s giving off like poisonous fumes, and for a second I think she’s going to hit me.

‘Leave her alone!’ Mum cries, grasping me even more tightly. I can’t support even her tiny weight any longer, and my knees begin to buckle. The leader woman bends and picks up the sticks from the floor thrusting them into Mum’s hands without comment. I move forward to stand in front of Mum, shielding her as best as I can.

‘For God’s sake, don’t lose it,’ the leader warns the other woman. Then she turns back to Mum and me. I find her calmness more threatening than the other woman’s out-of-control rage. ‘Let’s try again. The truth this time. Who else lives here?’

By Narinder Dhami. Extract from p74-79

9

This time she’s talking directly to me, and I can see there’s no point in lying. I already know from what they’ve said that someone named Ethan has been watching our house. For how long? Days? Weeks? Why? Nothing I’ve read has ever prepared me for being plunged into this living nightmare.

‘It’s just me and my mum,’ I explain slowly. ‘She was injured in a car accident years ago and she isn’t very well. She can’t walk without sticks, and she never leaves the house. Look, just take anything you want and leave us alone, please.’ My voice trembles and I bite my lip. I’m appealing to their better nature. But I don’t know if they have one.

‘Christ!’ the man by the door exclaims. ‘This is getting worse by the second. I think we should just get out of here right now‘

The loud woman whirls to confront him. ‘And what about all the work we’ve done?’ she spits. ‘What about all the planning? We can’t give it up, just like that!’

I don’t have any idea what she’s talking about. But suddenly, through all the terror and uncertainty, my curiosity begins to stir, as if I’ve just woken up from a deep sleep.

‘I know all that‘ The man swallows the end of the sentence abruptly, stopping himself from giving away the loud woman’s name, I think. ‘But we didn’t expect this…’

I guess he means Mum and me.

‘We need to think things over and decide how we’re going to move forward,’ the leader says. ‘Agreed?’

‘Agreed,’ the quiet man replies. The other two say nothing but she takes their silence as agreement even though the man by the front door is muttering darkly under his breath. I can’t catch what he’s saying, but I don’t think he’s happy. He’s not the only one.

‘What are you going to do to us?’ Mum asks. I can hear the desperation in her voice. I know she’s realized, as I did earlier, that these are no ordinary intruders; they’re not burglars.

The leader does not answer. She gazes around the hall and down the corridors as if looking for inspiration. ‘What’s that room there?’ she asks, pointing at the dim light spilling from the open door of Mum’s bedroom.

‘It’s where my mum sleeps,’ I say. ‘She can’t get upstairs any more.’

‘Take your mum in there and sit down,’ she tells me, taking the keys from the tall man.

I have no choice. I have to obey, although a tiny spark of anger kicks in at being bossed around by a stranger in my own home. Together, Mum and I begin the slow journey back along the corridor, not knowing what we’re walking into. The four intruders surround us like bodyguards. Or a death squad.

10

There are six speaking rolesCharacters:AnniMumLeader of the group of intrudersShorter man, member of the group of intrudersGiant man, member of the group of intrudersTall woman, member of the group of intruders

The characters are grouped together as though in a crowded room. Anni and her mum are huddled close whilst the group of other characters pace around the room and look agitated.

Leader I’m going to ask you some questions. Don’t shout for help or make any loud noise. Nobody will hear you anyway. Your neighbours are too far away.

Anni (Breathless and anxious) Who are you? What do you want?

Leader (Looking at Anni’s mum) Do you live here?

Mum Yes.

Anni How did you get into the house?

Leader Who else lives here?

Anni My dad and my three brothers. They are at work, but they’ll be home any minute. minute.

Leader Oh great! (Shakes her head) Just great! Wonderful. Our first chance to prove prove ourselves and it’s over before we’ve started.

Giant man Let’s get the hell out of here. I knew it was a mistake and would blow up in our faces.

Shorter man Unless she’s lying…?

Tall woman Don’t lie to me.

Anni I’m not.

Tall woman If six people really lived here, there’s no way we would have been informed the the house was empty.

Leader (Groans and paces back and forth, her fists bunched) Stop messing about and tell us who lives here.

Mum Leave her alone. (Hugs Anni towards her)

Anni It’s just me and my mum. She was injured in a car accident years ago and isn’t very well. She can’t walk without sticks and never leaves the house. Take anything you want. Just leave us alone, please.

Shorter man Christ! This gets worse by the second. We should just get out of here right now…

Leader (Spins around angrily to confront him) And what about all the work? All the planning? We can’t give up just like that!

Shorter man I know all that J – (stops himself revealing name). We just…we didn’t expect (waves hands) this…

Leader We need to think things over and decide how to move forward. Agreed?

Shorter man Agreed.

Mum What are you going to do to us?

Leader (Looks around the room and points) What’s that room there?

Anni It’s where my mum sleeps. She can’t get upstairs.

Leader Take your mum in there and sit down.

Anni places her arm around her mother’s waist and guides her off stage in the direction of the bedroom.

13 HoursThe Nest

Adapted by Dave Cryer

11

You Killed MeBy Keith Gray Pages 31-34

In this section there are two Len Grimsbys. The first is the ghost of Len. He takes Toby back to see the events of yesterday as they unfold, showing him what caused Len to become a ghost.

I looked at the ghost standing next to me. He ignored me. Refused to meet my eyes. Then I looked back at Yesterday Len Grimsby at the top of the stone steps, half-in and half-out of Mrs Harrow’s front door. I saw that the pockets of his overalls were bulging. The right pocket had silver knives and forks sticking out of it. A gold necklace dangling from the left. The necklace was like a shiny snake with a fat red jewel for a head. It looked like it was trying to slither away down his leg.

‘Look, Mrs Harrow. I, er… I can explain.’

Mrs Harrow had been shocked into silence. She stood as still as her lion statues. But then she pointed a finger at Yesterday Len. Her purple nail looked dark and deadly. ‘Thief!’ she screamed. ‘Thief! Burglar!’

Standing beside me, the ghost of Len Grimsby hung his head and stared at his feet. He didn’t want to watch. It was hard to read his face, with that horrible hole where his eye should be, but I think he was ashamed.

‘Thief!’ Mrs Harrow shouted. ‘Help! Police!’

Yesterday Len said, ‘Don’t, Missus. Don’t call the police. We’ll put it all back, OK? I promise. Just don’t call the police.’ His knees were bending under the weight of that massive TV. He was struggling to carry it.

But Mrs Harrow didn’t listen. She was digging in her handbag, searching for her phone.

I heard the crunch of gravel behind me. I turned to see a man with glasses and a shaved head walk out from the back of Len Grimsby’s van. He must have been inside the van all this time. He

was wearing black jeans and a baggy red T-shirt.

‘Who’s that?’ I asked the ghost.

‘He’s called Capper,’ the ghost said.

Capper was trying to creep up on Mrs Harrow but the gravel was very loud.

Mrs Harrow was louder still. ‘Thief!’ she cried again. She didn’t have a clue Capper was there. ‘Burglar!’

Yesterday Len saw Capper behind her. ‘No, Capper,’ he called out. ‘Capper, no! Don’t do anything.’ He was still holding the massive TV but he tried to wave at the other man to stop.

By this time Capper had sneaked right up behind Mrs Harrow. I thought he was going to grab her. Or worse, hit her.

Mrs Harrow had at last found her phone inside her huge handbag. ‘Police,’ she shouted at it before she’d even dialled 999.

Capper was so close behind her that he could have plucked the hair on the back of her neck. It was then I saw the gun in his hand. A pistol.

‘No, Capper. No!’ Yesterday Len shouted. He tried to run down the steps, with the TV still in his arms.

Capper narrowed his eyes. There was sweat shining all over his bald head. He lifted the gun to aim at the back of Mrs Harrow’s head and leaned in close to her.

‘Put your phone away, you old bag,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Put it away or I’ll – ‘

Mrs Harrow screamed and spun on her heel. She screamed again when she saw Capper. She threw up her hands and staggered back. She was still holding her huge handbag and it swung up into the air. It hit the gun Capper was holding. It took him by surprise. The gun went BANG.

12

The bank of reporters outside the hospital had thickened. Lights fixed to huge poles made it seem like daylight when it fact it was nine o’clock in the evening. Nat explained he’d called the press conference so quickly because he hoped the item would make the ten o’clock news as well as the morning papers.

‘Has someone come forward?’

‘Have you found River Boy’s parents?’

‘Has he got a name yet?’

Do you know who he is?’

Kassia stood behind the reporters and watched her uncle raise his hand to silence them. There were several sound-recordists with microphones jostling of the best position in front of him.

‘There has been a development,’ Nat began.

‘Are you going to tell us who he is then?’

There was a general rumble of disapproval at the interruption and one of the reporters nearest to the back called out, ‘Let the doctor speak.’

The crowd hushed.

‘As of eight o’clock this evening,’ Nat went on, ‘despite extensive press and public interest, there’s still been no positive identification of the boy who’s become known as “River Boy”. He has, although being to all intents and purposes, medically well, continued to remain silent. He’s not uttered a single word about who he is or where he’s come from.’

Nat took several sheets of paper from his briefcase. Dante had scanned in the images the boy had made, fitted them together on the computer screen just as they’d done on the dinner table, and then reproduced the single image the puzzle had created for copying.

‘We gave the boy pieces of paper and a pen and asked him to share with us in whatever way he could. And this is what he drew.’ Nat held up the paper and flashbulbs from cameras clicked repeatedly. ‘I’ll pass out copies of the image for

you all in a moment. We’re hoping that someone will see it and they’ll understand why the boy felt compelled to draw it. We hope this symbol with help solve the mystery of the boy’s identity.’

‘Can you describe the image for audio listeners?’ asked a reporter who held a microphone heavily branded for BBC Radio Four.

‘It’s an ouroboros,’ said Nat. ‘A circular dragon drawn in segments. And the dragon’s eating its own tail. It’s a classic symbol used in alchemy to represent the idea of life being like a cycle.’

‘So why’d the boy draw that?’ asked the radio reporter.

‘We’re not sure yet. We’ve asked him. He seemed shocked to see the symbol made from his scribblings, which suggests the image came from his subconscious. But this is common with memory return in cases like his. Patches of information might come back and initially make no sense to the patient.’

There was a squeezing forwards of reporters then, and a clamouring for copies of the reproduced image as they began to be passed out.

‘One final thing,’ Nat said, rubbing his arms against the cold. ‘We’ve decided to move the boy from the hospital to a more suitable facility in the hope of aiding his recovery.’

‘Where?’

‘When?’

‘Will there be a photo op?’

‘How can our viewers track his move?’

Nat held up his hands again. ‘We understand the interest. And we appreciate all your coverage. Let’s hope your running of the symbol unearths a lead. But no, we won’t be releasing details about where the boy is moving to. Any information should still come to the hospital or police email address as previously issued. For now, his new location will be undisclosed.’

River of Inkby Helen Dennis Extract p29-31

13

Over to you... Why

not try creating

your own script

of one of these

scenes?

Petunia Perry and the Case of the Ugly Pigeon

by Pamela Butchart Extract pgs 210-213

When we arrived at the venue, I was a bit surprised to see that it wasn’t really a flashy new bowling alley (as I’d assumed it would be) but more of an old man’s bowling clubhouse.

‘Is this the right place, Peri?’ said Mum.

‘Yep,’ I replied, almost leaping out of the car.

Cammy was already there, waiting for me. I’d made her SWEAR she’d be there so that she could help me carry the keyboard inside (so no parental help was required!).

After asking Cammy twice if her mum was definitely inside waiting for us, my parents EVENTUALLY admitted defeat and reluctantly pulled away. Mum (of course) drove at a snail’s pace, watching us the entire time until we went into the building and door closed behind us. She is a NIGHTMARE!

It didn’t really look like the type of place you’d expect to see a cool new band play. It looked much more like the type of place you’d expect to see old men drinking beer but I reminded myself that even the greatest bands had to start somewhere.

Cammy’s mum was sitting at the bar with Margaret, talking to an old (quite irritated-looking) man. She pointed at us when we walked in, and the man began making his way towards us.

‘I’m Alf. You Edward’s lot?’ he asked.

‘Erm, yes,’ I said.

‘Through there’, he said, pointing to a door at the back of the room.

‘Which one of you is the singer?’

‘That’s when me and Cammy realised at the same time that we didn’t actually HAVE a set lead singer. We all sang the words (when there WERE words – our music was often wordless).

The guy just rolled his eyes at us a bit and said, ‘Well, there’s only one mic in the middle of the stage. Try not to move it, or anything else for that matter. Everything’s set up and ready for the bingo at 8pm. What about that?’ he added pointing to my keyboard. ‘You need power for that?’

It took me a second to realise what he was asking me. ‘Oh. No,’ I said. ‘It’s got batteries.’

‘Good,’ he said, and then he turned and walked off.

I suppose I’d have to get used to having all these band-support people around, asking us questions all the time, if we were going to keep doing gigs. But it was making me feel a bit nervous, especially since Cara and Edward weren’t even here yet.

Me and Cammy made our way to the back of the room and opened the door to our venue. The first thing I noticed was the smell. It smelled of old man aftershave and chips. There were no windows.

The next thing I noticed was the ‘stage’. It was a smallish wooden box with a curtain hanging over it to separate the front stage from backstage.

‘How EXCLUSIVE!’ said Cammy. She clearly loved it. I wasn’t so sure.

14

mind map

What happens in the scene?

Describe the setting

What are the characters feeling?

What is the mood of the scene?

Title

Who is in the scene?How do they know each other?

Characters

Scene Mood

15

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To find out more about these books visit

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To find out what happens next, and write the next scene of your play, check out the books! You should be able to find them in your school library.

You could also look through the drama section of your library and find some plays that you might like to read.

Scripts are everywhere – next time you watch television or listen to something on the radio, think about all the writing that went in to it. To learn more, and to see scripts performed live, ask your teacher about any local theatres or drama clubs that you could get involved with.

What next?

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