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@theartofcharts.bsky.socialOct 10, 2026, 12:16 AM

Managed a 7 for my second Black List evaluation of FAR AS THE CROW FLIES, in which four young Americans take jobs on the wrong Australian orchard - so here's a page for
#scriptsky #FirstPageFriday

IN CROW’S DREAM - EXT. PINE FOREST - NIGHT
Deep snow on a wooded hillside, Crow’s breath hangs frozen.
The sound of rushing water. Somewhere down there is a river.

Black feathers in the snow. Crow looks closer at...
... a raven. Smaller in death. Eyes open and unseeing. Talons
curled tight, holding on to nothing.

The raven opens its broken beak.

BACK TO SCENE
Crow startles awake - looks sharply over at Tori’s bed. But
she’s not there - just a note on her pillow. Crow reads it.

EXT. MADISON AND EMMA'S CARAVAN - DAY
Sweat beads on Tori’s forehead. She descends the hill,
adjusts her backpack and KNOCKS on the door.

TORI
Madison? Sorry! I know it’s early -

JOE (O.S.)
- You’re late.

Clumsy, Tori wheels around to see Joe on his electric quad
bike. He spots her backpack.

JOE
Leaving? Figures. Where’s Crow?

TORI
Back at the -

JOE
- ‘Cos he should be at work.

Tori's face gives Crow away.

JOE
Still getting his beauty sleep?
Doing his make-up?

Joe grins, his mask slipping. Tori knows that look.

JOE
I’ll soon sort him out. Well go on.
Off you trot. Don’t miss the bus.

He accelerates downhill. Tori tries the caravan door. Locked.

Torn, she glances back up the hill - and hightails it,
straight back the way she came.A damaged, rusty-blood coloured feather against a pale blue background. Text: FAR AS THE CROW FLIES / Written by Adele Smaill
@timwestland.bsky.socialOct 9, 2026, 6:20 PM

#FirstPageFriday #Scriptsky
From my unfinished feature, A MAN OF SUBSTANCE, which is about a President who has truly united the world, and the mayhem that ensues after a physical exam reveals he is 100% hollow inside

The real world has eclipsed the ridiculousness I had planned, so...

@nickwaswriting.comOct 9, 2026, 3:47 PM

It’s been a long time since I participated in #FirstPageFriday & I have absolutely nothing new to show for it 😂 So I’ve dipped into the archive for one of my favourite intros I wrote a few years ago for NYC midnight. The script is a mess and needs serious work but I haven’t quit it yet. #Scriptsky

@aggiebrett.bsky.socialOct 9, 2026, 1:21 PM

Sampling again from REDNECKS & GREEN MEN, cuz why not. Shame don't hurt.

#FirstPageFriday #FunPageFriday #FutileStupidGestureFriday #ScriptSky

@aggiebrett.bsky.socialOct 9, 2026, 1:13 PM

Another week rolls over and slides beneath the waves, which means it's time to play #FirstPageFriday. Or #FunPageFriday if you're not into that whole "opening scene" thing. Share a page of YOUR writing (none of that AI stuff, please) and maybe inspire your peers and friends. It's free.

#ScriptSky

#FirstPageFriday #FunPageFriday Post something, ya filthy animals
@aggiebrett.bsky.socialOct 2, 2026, 11:53 PM

For #FirstPageFriday-- the opening to VAMPICONDA!, the only thing I've written that qualifies at all as "horror," but even then it's hyphenated as comedy-horror.

This silly thing started as a joke in a social media thread yet remains my most requested script.

There is no logic here.

#scriptsky

VAMPICOINDA! p1
EXT. LOUISIANA SWAMP ROAD -- DAY
Slick black water hugs the bottoms of thick cypress trees. The air so heavy, you can almost hear the humidity. Ominous clouds hang heavy and pregnant as distant thunder rumbles.
...VAMPICONDA! poster
@theartofcharts.bsky.socialOct 2, 2026, 11:08 PM

DUST ON DIRT is more of a woman-in-peril / survival thriller than a horror - but it takes some steps in that direction. Just finished an update on it this week so here it is for spooky #FirstPageFriday. #scriptsky

A dry scrubby rocky hillside under a hot blue sky. A few clouds, but they're a mockery: there's no chance of rain.

Text: A script by Adele Smaill / DUST ON DIRTEXT. DESTROYED WATER STATION IN THE WILDERNESS – NIGHT
Drops of water strike wet earth.
Slow...
...and stop.

A drained water barrel, peppered with bullet holes. Slashed
empty water containers litter the rocky clearing.

A flag, emblazoned with a rain drop, droops from a whip pole.

Facing away, an INFANT in a pink onesie crawls in the dirt.
She turns her head. She's long since dead. No eyes to her
sockets, skin withered to the bone.

INT. TROY'S TRAILER - BEDROOM ALCOVE – DAY
TROY (a gaunt, weathered 50s, white) gasps awake, heart
POUNDING. He's flat on his back on a narrow pull-down bed,
late afternoon sun streaming through the window.

TROY
It's ok.

Bleak eyes give the lie, but the POUNDING quiets and slows.

TROY
Not like I'd forget.

He retrieves a pistol from the tatty bedside console, hand
trembling as he looks it over. Ridiculous. Pathetic, even.

EXT. OTAY WILDERNESS, U.S. – TRAILER - DAY
The wilderness has Troy's old trailer surrounded. Only tire
tracks hint at a way out through rocky, sage-clad hills.

A water feeder for birds stands full to the brim.

Nearby, an old monster of a 4x4 pickup, with dark-tinted
windows and a lifted cab. On the rear bumper, a faded sticker
reads 'HOLD THE LINE - SECURE THE BORDER.'

INT. TROY'S 4X4 - DUSK
A flat bench seat up in front. Troy slides in, stows his
pistol and drives off, hands steady on the wheel.
@briancutter.bsky.socialOct 2, 2026, 9:57 PM

Hey #ScriptSky, instead of a #FirstPageFriday for the first October Friday, here's a horror short I adapted, shot, directed, and produced. Enjoy. Potential TW: the subject matter involves stealing a Black woman's soul for forced labor.

youtu.be/m7f6gH5JrTg?...

@aggiebrett.bsky.socialOct 2, 2026, 6:48 PM

“Better late than never,” they say, but let’s be honest: “they” tend to be morons, where “we” tend to be the smart kids. The cool kids. Oooo, and good looking, too. I’m not sure what my point was going to be, but post something for #FirstPageFriday while I sort that out. 👍

#scriptsky

@anthonyscripted.bsky.socialOct 2, 2026, 6:45 PM

GIMME A REASON
1973. When four armed Muslim men barricade themselves inside a Brooklyn sporting goods store with twelve hostages, a young traffic cop with a PhD in psychology has 32 hours left to convince an NYPD built on overwhelming force to do something it had never tried: talk. #FirstpageFriday

Poster for the screenplay: GIMME A REASON

GIMME A REASON
1973. When four armed Muslim men barricade themselves inside a Brooklyn sporting goods store with twelve hostages, a young traffic cop with a doctorate in psychology has 32 hours left to convince an NYPD built on overwhelming force to do something it had never tried: talk.
@eric-writes.bsky.socialOct 2, 2026, 5:16 PM

I have completed the final script of my “Shadows” trilogy. A new feature called “Shadows of the First Dream”. Here is the #firstpagefriday for you all. #scriptsky

FADE IN:
EXT. ASHFIELD BORDER VALLEY - MORNING
Morning mist clings to the low wild grass. Along the ridge, faded heraldic banners from Dartmouth, Gagnon, and the Council flap against spiked timber poles driven deep into damp earth.
Mounted Dartmouth pickets patrol the perimeter, their leather brigandines wet with fog.
At the center of the field sits a broad open pavilion made of treated canvas and bleached timber.
EXT. ASHFIELD BORDER VALLEY - REFUGEE ENCAMPMENT - MORNING
Heavy gray mist crawls across a ditch choked with broken handcarts.
Dozens of DARTMOUTH REFUGEES huddle under greasy canvas tarps. Children cough into damp wool scarves.
A FARMER empties a water skin over a wooden tub. The stream twists mid-fall, defies gravity, and beads upward into the fog.
Beside him, an OLD WOMAN sifts a spade of dirt through her fingers. The soil crumbles into dry, weightless lead sand, drifting off in the cold wind.
Pickets of Dartmouth cavalry patrol the perimeter on mud-caked geldings, keeping the displaced families pinned between the tree line and the marsh.
INT. ASHFIELD BORDER PAVILION - MORNING
JADE (18) sits upright in a carved high-backed chair. She
wears a
formal
coat of dark gray wool clasped with silver at
the throat. Her violet eyes, clear and sharp, study a massive boundary ledger laid across the central table.
PEMEL BERO (20s) stands two paces behind her right shoulder.
His coat is tailored and clean. His mirrored glasses gleam beneath the swinging oil lanterns, reflecting the room.
Across the table sit THREE COUNCIL DELEGATES in layered blue velvet. Flanking them stands MARSHAL TRENT (50s), an austere Dartmouth commander with an iron gorget locked tight around his throat.
@anthonyscripted.bsky.socialSep 25, 2026, 6:47 PM

THE COLOUR OF LAW

When a combative First Amendment Auditor records a Federal Reserve robbery, he realizes the cops investigating the crime are actually the thieves, and after staging their own deaths are hunting him down before his evidence exposes them.

#scriptsky #FirstPageFriday

The poster for the screenplay of The Colour of LawPage 1 of the screenplay, THE COLOUR OF LAW
@theartofcharts.bsky.socialSep 25, 2026, 2:15 PM

#scriptsky #FirstPageFriday

One of these days I'll remember tags...

@aggiebrett.bsky.socialSep 25, 2026, 1:47 PM

Just to show that pride had no place in this party, I'll throw up a page from my very first script, written back around 1989. FILM AT ELEVEN is what happens if USED CARS had a stupid child with BROADCAST NEWS.

It's ragged as all hell, yet I still love it.

#FirstPageFriday #Scriptsky

@leahelizabethevans.bsky.socialSep 25, 2026, 1:47 PM

YOU, ME, AND THEN NOTHING (Apocalyptic Dramedy): As Earth barrels toward a world-ending black hole, two estranged siblings return to their childhood home to unpack a lifetime of regrets, trauma, and what it means to forgive when a future no longer exists.

#scriptsky #FirstPageFriday #Writing

@aggiebrett.bsky.socialSep 25, 2026, 1:20 PM

Shameless Self Promotion time once again, my pretties. Another #FirstPageFriday (or #FunPageFriday if that's how you roll) -- another chance to dazzle the species with some little sample of your brilliance. And always: remember this is intended for human efforts, so no AI.

#ScriptSky

Fun Page Friday!
@phoenixblack.bsky.socialSep 19, 2026, 1:28 PM

FIRE KINGS #firstpagefriday

When two undercover cops—one a war veteran, one the son of war refugees—infiltrate rival biker gangs, they uncover a shared war legacy that threatens their mission and the men they’ve come to see as family. POINT BREAK meets THE HURT LOCKER

@aggiebrett.bsky.socialSep 19, 2026, 12:47 PM

Reposting as experiment. #FirstPageFriday

@eric-writes.bsky.socialSep 19, 2026, 12:47 AM

#scriptsky #firstpagefriday
Congrats to all the semifinalist and second-rounders in Austin Film Fest. Welcome to the family! Here is page one of my second rounder from last year. Which seeded a feature being prepped for next year’s event.

@theartofcharts.bsky.socialSep 18, 2026, 11:11 PM

Tori realising the person who should have helped was her - as she and Crow find themselves trapped in a caravan about to go no place good in my Australian thriller FAR AS THE CROW FLIES. Wolf Creek meets The Breakfast Club.

#scriptsky #FirstPageFriday #FunPageFriday

INT. WHITE CARAVAN - MINI-GALLEY - DAY
Ragged breathing inside. Silence outside.
Tori peeks out around the counter to see Crow, sprawled on
the floor between the beds. Shades on askew. Face bloody.

TORI
Crow?

No answer. She heads into the...

SLEEPING AREA - CONTINUOUS
Crouches beside Crow, who groans and stirs. Tori keeps her
voice low.

TORI
You ok? Sorry. Stupid question.
Here. Let me -

She reaches for Crow’s shades. Crow raises a hand and shoves
hers away.

Tori reaches for her phone. Stupid. It’s not there. Whispers -

TORI
Where’s your phone?

Still dazed, Crow concentrates. Winces, reaches into... an
empty pocket. Shakes their head. That hurts too.

TORI
Fuck.

She listens at the door. Lifts the latch and pushes. Nothing.
She shoves it. Still nothing. Winds up for a body slam...

CROW
You’ll hurt yourself.

She SLAMS into the door anyway. Crow’s right. She YELLS, loud
as she can, beating on the door as, unnaturally calm, Crow
watches from the floor.

TORI
Help! Let us out!
(to Crow)
C’mon - shout! We need help.

CROW
What help? There’s no help.

Defeated, Tori slumps against the door.

TORI
There was me. I should’ve helped.A rusty-brown broken feather the colour of dried blood against a pale blue background.  

Text:  FAR AS THE CROW FLIES / written by Adele Smaill
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