I met Shynola in the bar of the Phoenix on Charing Cross Road to pick up a copy of their script for The Red Men, delivered within a wrapper embossed with their redesign of the Monad logo. Everything within that wrapper was new to me, as I had no part in the process of turning my novel into a script.
A script is so changeable. Who doesn’t have notes for the scriptwriter? The form is provisional, built for redrafting, tearing apart, trimming, expanding. Alongside every script, there are shadow scripts, plotlines not chosen, characters deleted; every script has its doppleganger; every script has its Red Man.