In the alien culture of my gestating story, babies’ brains are installed with wireless at birth. A major part of the education of children by their parents and in the rest of the culture is learning to control privacy over their own thoughts.
Conflict conflict conflict. That’s the heart of the story: fighting for one’s own mind, knowing the difference between oneself and everyone else.
The ghost of the alien anthropologist (who discovers an ancient Compleat Works of William Shakespeare in a still intact vault under the ruins of the New York Public during an excavation of the long dead planet Earth) is a metaphor for the core conflict – oh, and the comic relief, since he hasn’t got a clue about acting Shakespeare.
Which of course means, I need a good Shakespearean actor. There will at least two other characters. One is probably a cop, i.e., librarian who has responsibility for controlling information, etc. That would be me. The other character is an idealistic artist who probably doesn’t understand how much of herself she gives away that is not art.
That’s the goddamn dancing elephant of the story. But, first a script.
Film at 11 sometime next year.
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