Creative

My well-rounded education in writing—including screenwriting, PR, and organizational branding— helps me serve enthusiastically, whether for content creation or in the name of the Oxford comma.  

(Spoiler alert, I'm a pragmatist who thinks consistency is the only requirement here).  Check out some of my creative works below.

Poetry

THE BARN

Awash in the relics of neglect

There no longer exists a livelihood

For this splintered structure to embrace.

Ropes decayed

Stables long abandoned

The roof looks to surrender-

Wilting under the weight of noon.

To recall decades of nurturing

Father’s prized and beloved tenants

Spurs a bitter-cold guilt

Quelling all effects

Of a shimmering August heat.

 

Color can be restored

And beams replaced

Yet sturdiness and appeal

Are absent without passion.

No hands will latch this gate again

Nor will a horse’s neigh escape

These unfettered windows and reliable doors.


No son should attempt to carry a legacy

His conscience can’t afford.

Sitting across from a suited devil,

Ache pitchforks from my heart.

In a prolific history

Confined to fifteen pages of greed,

An impersonal neon marker

Highlights dotted lines.

A pen weighing six tons

Quakes in my stinging hands;

Never have they succumbed  

To a tool so artless.


Manuscript (synopsis)

THE MINOTAUR 

(Approximately 80,000 words)


Carnival owner, Stanton “Sticks” Wolcott, struggles to keep his dust bowl-era business afloat—at times even sacrificing his own profit for the security and well-being of his crew.  As he roams the western states, he hopes to escape the memory of a young boy (Clyde Cartwright) who was killed on his carnival’s most popular ride, the Minotaur, while in a dusty Nevada mining town called Deadmon. Burdened by guilt, Sticks regularly partakes in alcohol and gambling.

While on the road, a hopeful sideshow act, Clara the Contortionist, appears in his doorway.  He hires her and immediately falls in love.  She helps him to quit drinking and get his gambling under control while trying to uncover the catalyst to his suffering.  After he confides in Clara about the tragedy, he reveals he had to change his name to avoid pursuit by vigilantes for what he swears was an accident. She tells him the only way to vanquish the tormenting memory is to return to the town where the child died and to replace the memory of the accident with a new, happier outcome.  Sticks is hesitant but agrees to go back to Deadmon on the condition that his identity remains a secret.

As the caravan approaches Deadmon, it dawns on Sticks some of the townspeople might recognize him, or worse: he recognizes some of them.  This triggers his memory of fleeing a card game amid gunfire after being caught cheating. He panics and seeks Clara to inform her he isn’t going through with it, but Clara is nowhere to be found. Sticks grapples with her whereabouts and begins to question his own mired history of drunken blackouts.

He finally sees Clara in plain clothing, but his hopes fade quickly when the woman doesn’t answer to the name Clara, claiming to have never met him before. Confused, he returns to the caravan to ask his mute strongman, George, of Clara’s whereabouts.  George sadly points to the show’s schedule, where a 15-minute slot is empty.  Looking back at the programs he compiled over the years, Sticks finds out she first appeared on the roster after the unfortunate day the boy was killed in Deadmon.

Sticks begins to question whether he made her up and, on the verge of a breakdown, causes such a scene in the town square that passersby begin to gather around. When the mob hushes during his recount of “Clara the Contortionist,” Sticks becomes convinced that Clara was a real person and accuses the townspeople of holding her captive.

The town sheriff introduces himself as Clyde Cartwright, announcing he knows Sticks’ real name and why he’s been hiding his identity. In his explanation of what happened in Deadmon years ago, Cartwright recalls his search for a girl who went missing the day after Sticks’ carnival left town; the discovery of her body at the bottom of a ravine; and his posse’s subsequent pursuit of Sticks. This causes Sticks to conjure a terrifying recollection of peering down on the lifeless body of a woman in a rocky basin, bent into an impossible position.

Sticks is taken into custody but escapes moments before gallows are drawn.

Years later, and under a new pseudonym and visage, Sticks is sober, happy, and engaging once again.  He has friends and a completely new carnival troupe. One night as he’s closing, a familiar sound swirls in the night. It’s Clara’s voice, urging him to leave at once. Trusting his newfound soberness, he heeds the warning and takes off in a sprint with a bindle over his shoulder. Following the voice into the black void of rural midnight, Sticks Wolcott runs over the edge of a gorge, tumbling to his death.



Screenwriting/Treatment + Bio

Below is an assignment for the course Screenwriting for Media Arts.
OBJECTIVE: Write an original script for a short narrative film, including bio.
GRADE RECEIVED: A

TITLE: MY ROOM

AUTHOR: MICHAEL VERMILYEA

 

FADE IN:

EXT. HENRY’S CHILDHOOD HOME – NIGHT

WE OPEN on a small beachfront home at twilight.  The place is buzzing with the sound of children at various ages playing. We hear dishes clank as a faucet is running.

CUT TO:

INT. HENRY’S CHILDHOOD HOME – KITCHEN/LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Sweet and innocent Henry, 8, sits on the floor in his pajamas, playing with an Erector set.  In the background, his mother washes dishes while his five older siblings run around the house noisily.  Some are arguing; mother is visibly irritated.

 

HENRY’S MOTHER

Alright, that’s enough! Time to

get ready for bed.

CUT TO:

INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT

Henry brushes his teeth, looking into the mirror.  His hair looks damp, neatly combed. He is proud of himself.

 

OLDEST BROTHER

(peeking around corner)

       You’re brushing already, Henry?

Bedtime isn’t for another hour.

Henry smiles back.

OLDEST BROTHER

           (condescendingly)   

You still think Dad’s just going

to come back out of the blue?

Henry nods, unshaken.

OLDEST BROTHER

           (walking away)

       You don’t know Dad, then.

Henry overhears his oldest brother murmuring to his mother in the kitchen. He then hears plates abruptly dropping into the sink.   

HENRY’S MOTHER (O.S.)

        (annoyed)

How am I supposed to know?

           (in a hushed voice)

       Listen, you know Henry.  He’s

hopeful. Let him have that.

Besides, it’s endearing.

       CUT TO:

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

Bedroom lights are off as Henry’s Mother is heard on the phone in the living room.

 

HENRY’S MOTHER (O.S.)

Yes, I mean we received it, but when

is he—    

(interrupted)

No, of course, and I understand

that, but I want to talk to him.

           (after a pause)

Please just tell him to call home.

His children want to know where

their father is.

(hushed voice)

I want to know where their father

is. We haven’t seen him in—

        (interrupted again)

No, I get it, but can you at least

get this message to him?   

CUT TO:

INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT

Henry is lying in his bed, looking at the ceiling with an optimistic look on his face. A doo-wop song plays in the background.

CUT TO:

DREAM SEQUENCE - INT. - BEDROOM - DAY

Henry sits up, having just awoken.  His father walks in and sits beside Henry’s bed.

FATHER

I’m here to stay, pal. I promise.

Henry’s face lights up.

CUT TO:

INT. - BEDROOM - NIGHT

Henry is still face up in his bed, grinning ear-to-ear with eyes closed. The recognizable doo-wop song reaches its chorus; it is the Beach Boys’ 1963 hit, In My Room.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. MODERN LUXURY HOME - ENTRANCE – DAY

Henry, now a homeowner, husband, and father to four children of his own, gathers a duffle bag and a coat and heads toward the front door. His wife, Leanne, stops him.

 

LEANNE

            (concerned)

So your brothers and sisters just

put your mom in a home and that’s

it? They won’t even help with the

property?

 

HENRY

            (shrugging)

I’m the only one who still thinks

of the place fondly.

 

LEANNE

            (half-joking)

If I didn’t know any better, I

would think you had a secret life.

 

Henry’s response, a dismissive chuckle leaves Leanne feeling empty. Henry exits the house.  Leanne’s head and shoulders slump as the door closes behind him.

CUT TO:

INT. HENRY’S CHILDHOOD HOME (PRESENT) - BEDROOM – NIGHT

Henry lies on his childhood bed; the room’s décor is stuck in the 1960s. He stares up at the ceiling, just as he did as a small boy, and then closes his eyes.

CUT TO:

EXT. MODERN LUXURY HOME – ENTRANCE

Henry is headed toward his SUV, carrying the same duffle bag.

LEANNE

            (desperately)

Please don’t, Henry.

Leanne follows him down a few steps to the car. Henry offers an apologetic smile, stopping to kiss Leanne before entering and closing the car door.  Leanne stands, shocked, watching him drive away.

CUT TO:

INT. HENRY’S CHILDHOOD HOME (PRESENT) - BEDROOM – NIGHT

Henry is in deep REM sleep, grinning.

CUT TO:

INT. MODERN LUXURY HOME – BEDROOM - DAY

Leanne sobs as she places a framed picture of her family into a packed suitcase and closes it.

CUT TO:

INT. BREAKFAST NOOK - DAY

Henry’s three oldest children, Dane (16), Eric (13), Olivia (11), eat cereal at a small kitchen table in a nook with a spectacular canyon view. There is no sign of an adult presence.  The house is cluttered, dishes are piled in the kitchen sink, and a TV is heard from another room. All four children are lethargic.

The youngest, Ben (8), walks in, holding a cordless phone.

 

BEN

It’s for you.

           (handing phone to Dane)

       It’s mom.

 

 

DANE

(into phone, exhausted)

           I told you someone would answer

           the landline.

                (smirks at Ben)

       He didn’t say how long.

           (difficult pause)

       I know.

           (sighing)

       No one’s blaming you, mom.

CUT TO:

INT. CAR – MOVING - DAY

Leanne hangs up her phone as she drives on a highway near a large body of water.

CUT TO:

INT. HENRY’S CHILDHOOD HOME – ATTIC – DAY

Henry stands next to stacks of boxes, staring at a green Western Union receipt. He holds it up to reveal a company name “Harrington Fence Co.”, dated early 1963. His eyes are wide as he grins. His father’s signature is on the bottom.

CUT TO:

EXT. HENRY’S CHILDHOOD HOME – DAY

Leanne approaches the front door of a small, beachfront property.  She stops half-way between her car and the front door, briefly clutching her chest and looking at the ground. 

LEANNE

            (under her breath)

God, why am I doing this?

After inhaling deeply, she resets and resumes walking to the house. 

CUT TO:

INT. HALLWAY - DAY

Leanne walks down a wood-paneled hallway, music is heard faintly. As she creaks a bedroom door open, the music becomes louder.

CUT TO:

INT. – BEDROOM - DAY

Leanne enters to find Henry lying on the twin-sized bed from his youth.  He barely fits.  The Beach Boys’ In My Room plays on his immaculate vintage HiFi. He is motionless, dead from an apparent heart attack. Leanne looks down, doing her best to avoid sobbing. She sits and places his hand in hers. The Western Union receipt falls to the ground.  Leanne picks it up and frowns as she inspects it carefully.  She closes her eyes and begins to cry as she strokes his hair and rocks him in her arms.

CUT TO:

INT. MODERN LUXURY HOME – BREAKFAST NOOK – DAY

Dane, Eric and Olivia are seated at the table. Remnants of breakfast sit on plates, in bowls.  Dane is staring at his cellphone.

DANE

            (not looking up)

       Mom said she’ll call back after

she talks to Dad.

 

OLIVIA

            (sullenly)

       Are mom and dad getting a divorce?

 

DANE

            (sighing)

       I dunno, Liv. I guess we’ll find out

       pretty soon.

 

OLIVIA

                (matter of fact)

           We’re all going to live with mom.

 

DANE

               

           Now you’re just jumping to

           conclusions, Liv’er. We’ll see.

                (looking around)

           Where’s Ben?

CUT TO:

INT. BEDROOM – DAY

Ben is lying on his bed smiling.

DISSOLVE TO:

DREAM SEQ – INT. BEDROOM - DAY

Henry and Leanne walk into the room, taking a seat at the foot of Ben’s bed.

LEANNE

            (smiling sweetly)

       Look who I found.

BEN

           (beaming)

       Dad! You’re back!

HENRY

(laughing)

Of course, I am.

 

Henry places his arm around Ben.

 

HENRY

       Don’t worry, Ben.  I’ll be right

here. Forever.

Ben leans into his father for an embrace.

FADE OUT:

THE END

 

ABOUT MICHAEL VERMILYEA

Michael was born and raised in San Diego: the land of flip flops and taco shops.  A southern California kid of the 80s and 90s, Michael grew up in dimly lit arcades and overly lit shopping malls. He studied literature and writing out of high school.  He has a professional background that includes loss/fraud prevention, digital print, training, and direct marketing.

He recently achieved his bachelor’s degree in communications from Southern New Hampshire University, concentrating on professional writing. He married his next-door neighbor and childhood love. He volunteers for his kids’ sports and scouts' organizations.

Memento is his favorite film. He believes Christopher Nolan screws with the audience for fun, and that most people misunderstood Memento’s main character, Leonard.

Michael has a penchant for process improvement, enhancing workplace culture, and being a champion of win-win outcomes. He secretly wishes he could sing like Astrud Gilberto but is unafraid to look like a fool on the dancefloor.