Hazel McHaffie

My annual foray into the world of scriptwriting

Ahhh, my last blog of 2015. Hard to believe another whole year has gone by since I was too ill to write.

Uppermost in my mind this week is the annual story/play which I write for my grandchildren (and direct and scene-set and costume-make and cater for – yep, definitely master of none but nobody’s caring). We held it yesterday (Wednesday 30th) giving us time to change the house from a family Christmas venue to a Community Hall on the remote island of Moorphunlesshasslepleez, somewhere in the ocean between the outer Hebrides and the USA. The plot revolved around the supreme ruler, His Excellency Elijah Balahoulie, deciding his time had come to give way to a new leader. I won’t bore you with the detail which is littered with in-house jokes and allusions. A few pictures might best capture the tone and spirit of the event.

Stars of the show were of course the grandchildren themselves who were citizens of this strange island where everyone wears a kind of uniform ‘habit’:Four citizens of the island of Moorphunlesshasslepleez They were summonsed by the island’s town crier to hear a proclamation asking for nominations to head up a new era.A proclamation by the town crierApplicants included: a schoolteacher cum precious gem prospector,A schoolteachera glamorous seamstress,

A glamorous seamstress

an internationally famous ballerina,An internationally famous ballerinawho was also a brilliant teacher of all the citizens,Teaching the citizens to dance

a couple of virtuosos on wind instruments playing their very own medley of tunes,The wind instrumentalists

a recycling fanatic,A recycling fanaticand a young mum of a baby born on Christmas Day. A new mum

Some serious cooking and eating were involved too.Baking pizzas

The adults rose nobly to the occasion and doubled as a farmer, a baker, a dotty old lady, and a banker cum magician who showed a quite remarkable sleight of hand with a pack of cards.The conjurorEveryone had to score each applicant on ten different parameters and the assessment certainly concentrated attention, although some of the scores seemed decidedly suspect!

As usual the main players entered into the spirit of the event with huge enthusiasm – it helps that they don’t know anything about the storyline until they arrive – and every minute spent sewing and constructing props and costumes, every footsore hour spent hunting down elusive objects, reaped rich dividends.

Naturally enough there’s a strange feeling of anti-climax today after months and months of thinking and preparation, and the frenzied last minute scene setting, and all the anxieties about precise timings and locations, but the next phase is to turn the play into a book illustrated with photos taken during the performance – of which there are 565 to choose from!

Thoughts can then turn to a new year, new opportunities, the latest novel. So it only remains for me to wish all my visitors and friends health and happiness, peace and prosperity in 2016. Thank you for sharing my world.

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2 Responses to “My annual foray into the world of scriptwriting”

  • Beryl says:

    Great ,mad, self created fun! God Bless you all.

    • Hazel says:

      Yes indeed, Beryl. You need to be slightly mad to institute a tradition like this. This is story number 16! Started with an innocent request for a new tradition for a new generation; I had no inkling of it becoming what it is.

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