Monopoly of the Mind

I wrote this play when I was sixteen, which explains a lot of the fart jokes and dated humor. It was produced once in New York City at the Variety Café in the Rockefeller Center. That sounds a lot more impressive than it really was. If you’re interested in performing it at your school’s theatre program, give me a call and we’ll discuss options—which would probably only be a small donation and two free tickets.

The Premise
Inside your head there are a bunch of emotions swirling around, all trying to take control of “The Body.” When an emotion starts gaining too much power in the mind, a monopoly is created. The mind’s moderator is Reason who dutifully tends to the natural balance that prevents neuroses and personality disorders. That verbose little bugger is really just hoping that people start listening to reason…

Download Monopoly of the Mind (PDF)
Includes: PDF of Monopoly of the Mind, a rough, unformatted draft.

Download Monopoly of the Mind (PDF)
Includes: PDF of Monopoly of the Mind, a formatted final draft.

Temptation Behind a Trucker’s T

I wrote Temptation Behind a Trucker’s T in high school too, based on a neighborhood in New Jersey where I spent my elementary school years. While the plot may be pretty trite, it provides a pretty solid description of growing up in the mid-80s in suburban America.

The Premise
Two kids encounter the devil on their walk to pick up a gallon of milk.

Download Temptation Behind a Trucker’s T (PDF)
Includes: PDF of Temptation Behind a Trucker’s T, a short story.

The Arena

This short story Mike and I wrote together in high school. Looking back through it now, I actually have no idea what he wrote and what I did. We wrote the story with no idea where it would go and learned more and more about the plot as we passed it back and forth.

In college, Mike enrolled in a Television Production program at WMU and decided to shoot this for his thesis project. He got a standing ovation from the packed auditorium on its Opening Premiere.

Interestingly enough, it was based on this little structure, here.

The Premise
An aspiring actress and her boyfriend stumble on a mystical structure when a classmate is found dead in the middle of a field. The Arena, as they call it, changes their lives forever.

Download The Arena(PDF)
Includes: PDF of The Arena, a short story by Don and Mike Citarella.

The Change

VieusagiThe Complex and The Arena (which I wrote with Mike). You’ll probably also notice that there’s a hint of a political satire in there.

The Premise
A post-apocalyptic town deals with rebuilding their society based on three rules: 1) There will be no science. 2) There will be no family. 3) There will be no talk of “The Change”.

Download The Change (PDF)
Includes: PDF of The Change, a short story by Don Citarella.

The Complex

This is a novel I wrote when I moved to New York City. As with all hobby-novelists, its only in its second draft and far from being complete. All of the characters in this manuscript are fictional (though some of the names are close to friends of mine). If anything, the central character is loosely based on my dealings with relationships from high school to the time I met my girlfriend. In fact, unknown to her, she changed me so much that she actually changed the ending.

The Premise
A Midwesterner leaves her family and friends to try to find love in the Big Apple. She finds herself managing a three-story-building, a coffee house and a crisis of feelings, all of which she struggles to understand.

Download The Complex (PDF)
Includes: PDF of The Complex, a novel by Don Citarella.

The Guardian

The Guardian is a movie script that I’ve been working on for the past two years. It’s in its second draft right now and I’m trying to figure out when I’ll have time to revamp it to a more polished format.

I was looking into the idea of putting it on Trigger Street to get some feedback from the other amateur scriptwriters on there, but was a little leary about their copyright policy. At first glance, it looked like anything you published to their site, even for just feedback, became their property. It sounds a lot like the recent Billy Bragg vs. MySpace fiasco and I just didn’t want to get involved. Besides, Trigger Street (promoted by Kevin Spacey) is owned by Anheusher-Busch … which, I suppose is a step better than it being owned by Coors.

The Premise
An urban youth wakes up from a drug-induced daze to find his younger brother dead. Failing to protect his charge, this guardian takes his life by jumping out of his tenement window. Strange things start to happen when he wakes up a second time to find his brother alive.

Update: January 4, 2007— Thanks to the amazing critique and imagination of Matt Bird (Betsy‘s Wünder-Husband), The Guardian is now in its 3rd draft.

Download The Guardian (PDF)
Includes: PDF of The Guardian, a screenplay by Don Citarella.

Today

June 19, 2006 – Gretchen and I both decided that we’d write a short story one day based on whatever happened earlier in the day. We thought it might be a fun way to stretch the creative muscle.

Today 

From the pessimistic viewpoint of a hangover, I found that I was cheated today. It was midway between the coffeepot and the shower when my hand stopped it’s subconscious scratching as I peered at the clock in the hall. Under the wicked rule of the DST, Americans were removed of the liberty of an hour, a time-shift that ricochets through their daily circadian cycles until affecting every facet of a person’s life.Today I am Pyrrhus. I’ve survived the night victorious, undaunted and unbroken by a mid morning rush to the bathroom, to awake expecting my sixty courageous minutes heralding my return. The alcohol in my system created a dull drone that ached when I turned my head to find them. I was alone, today, sixty fewer that the morning previous and only myself to blame.

In my futile efforts to return to the past I excised the fan from the window and quickly took its place. I plunged my torso, headfirst into the morning air and shook away the remnants of night. The drone burned on. The acrid churn of toxins in my blood bubbled through their journeys to purification on this Palm Sunday. The cold chill of April awakened my mind and I stared out at the passers-by in utter bewilderment. Was it possible that they didn’t know? How could one not realize they were robbed of an entire hour? If man is splayed to the earth with nothing but his will and his conception of time, would he not feel either being stripped away in the darkness? Wouldn’t he, like a child to a blanket, entangle his existence with every shred of fabric to fight dearly for what was his?

“They’re gone!” I yelled to the people on the sidewalk, shaking the birds from my fire escape and sending them flapping to other metal gymnasiums. “I’d expected them to be there and they weren’t! I was cheated out of my sixty sweet sentries of dawn!”

The people below stared, not in terror, but with whim and annoyance. Their faces bore no scrap of sympathy as they trudged on through their daily routines of concrete and fluorescence. One shook his head in disdain, as though attempting to eradicate my pleas from his mind.

From above, another fan sought shelter. It was replaced by the charismatic face of many years, one that appeared to have seen many places and times. Barbados, I thought. Perhaps Trinidad.

“Boy, dey no gone!” She sang. Her voice was the gentle movement of a ladle, stirring a hearty smile.

“I expected them here when I awoke. I set my whole day by their arrival. They were ripped from me as I slept.”

“Dey were lent to you,” the woman said and then turned her eyes outward. “Dey will come back again, you’ll see.” She spoke to the crisp morning air. “Dey return when me begin to forget about dem. Dey always do.”

Download “Today” (PDF)
Includes: PDF of Today, a short rambling by Don Citarella.