The Stage 32 Lounge

In my last post, I stated that there is a logical system behind publishing a work in a different scenario as the same genre (such as the first work being animated and then presented as an animation in its modified form) or a different genre (such as the first work being a comic book and then presented as an animation), and I said I will explain it in another post.

I will try to explain this system, which I call "Visual Timbre and Multiple Story Universes", in detail in this post, but before that post;

I recommend you to read my post at

https://www.stage32.com/lounge/animation/Universal-Rules-for-Continuing-...

Seeing can simply be explained as the light reflected from objects reaching our eyes and then being transmitted to our brain to form an image. So what are the effects of this situation on human perception?

From the moment we are born and start using our sense of sight, we observe and interpret the interactions of people, objects and events around us, both with us and with each other. In addition, over time, we learn that what we see around us does not have to appear only as it appears to us, but can appear as we want it to appear in our brains (imagination) and even exist in the world we see as works of art (paintings, comics, movies, etc.).

So how is it that we can visually distinguish between the world our eyes see and the worlds we see in works? How is it that we can even distinguish between worlds that appear to us as the world we see?

The term "Timbre" used in sound science indicates that two sound sources can be heard in a unique way by the human ear even if they have the same frequency and wavelength. Thanks to this feature, the sounds we hear from a violin and a guitar are different from each other.

The same logic applies to visuals. Although they all come to our eyes as the same photons (the speed of light is constant, although it varies depending on the environment it is in, and this value is obtained by the conservative multiplication of the frequency of light and its wavelength), we can distinguish the works from the world we see and from each other with the different images formed in our brains. This is what I call "Visual Timbre".

This feature has many benefits. For example, it is based on this that animation and comics are considered separate categories from other genres. However, one point should be noted. Animated films are formed by replacing each visual frame in a sequential manner. Therefore, even if you look at only one frame instead of a film, you will still get the same timbre of the image. Simply put, the timbre of the whole is the same for each part. This important point is the same for animation, comics and everything else that is visual.

Another benefit is that it allows a work to be handled in different or the same genre. By handling written works visually (novels as comics or movies) or visual works in other types of visuals (comics to animation or animation to movies), works are produced with both different stories and different visuals.

Not only that, but the presence of visual effects is also possible thanks to the difference in timbre. In this way, impressive visuals with the same timbre or a closer timbre can be added to a visual with a certain timbre (especially in science fiction and action works).

There is also a philosophical aspect to "Visual Timbre". Do those living in a world that looks like animation to us see their world like ours or like animation? If we go by the logic of the film industry, they must see it like animation. Because in this way, different works can be produced due to the difference in timbre. However, according to another possibility, they may see their world like ours. In fact, we may look like animation to them. This could be a great scenario idea.

So how is it that so many visual works can be produced with such a difference in timbre, yet they can be both interconnected and independent of each other? Here, I am not just discussing all the visual versions of a work. I am also referring to the relationship between the visual versions of all the works.

It is possible to see many examples of this, especially in today's productions. In some works, characters that belong to different stories but have the same timbre (for example, The Amphibia and The Owl House take place in the same world), in some works, characters with different timbres and/or the same timbre with the same story (for example, Spider-Man: Jump to Spider-Verse), or in some works, characters that are different in both story and timbre (for example, Space Jam) can be connected to each other and have their stories live independently of each other.

There is a scientific and logical system behind the connection between all these works. I call it "Multiple Story Universe", which is the version of the multiverse theory we all know for works.

The point I want to make clear is that every story in this system must have a visual version. It doesn't matter if the main version is a written source and visualized or if it has been visual from the beginning. However, works that have no visual examples (illustrations are not included here) are not included in this system. They can still be included as information, and many works already have examples of this.

The multiverse theory was first scientifically proposed by Hugh Everett in 1957. Hugh reached this conclusion thanks to the famous Schrödinger's Cat experiment. A cat in a box with no interior visible will die from the poison triggered by the radioactive material in the box if it decays, but it will live if it does not. The main point here is that you cannot know whether the cat is alive or not without opening the box and looking inside. Therefore, until the result is observed, two possibilities exist simultaneously, and only when the observation is made can one of the two be definite.

Everett, on the other hand, put forward the theory of today's multiverse by proposing that when one of the two possibilities is confirmed, the other possibility can also be confirmed in another universe. In other words, if there is a possibility, the moment one of them occurs in one universe, the other occurs in a parallel universe.

If we apply this scientific approach to works, we can create a new version of a work by ensuring that the referenced events occur or do not occur in order to change the story of the work. (Justice League: Flashpoint Paradox can be given as an example, although it involves time travel).

It should also be noted that, unlike quantum and cosmology events, time is also an important variable in the production of new works. (One of the most famous examples is H.G. Wells's The Time Machine. There are also two films of the book, one faithful to the original and the other modified.)

Another issue that is related to this theory and allows us to understand parallel universes is the Anthropological Principle. Thanks to this principle, the differences between the scientific structures of parallel universes can be interpreted. For example, if there is gravity in our universe, there is no gravity in another universe.

With these three scientific approaches, we can bring together works that are products of imagination and visualized within a logical system. Not only that, we can also logically explain how the next modified story will be and what kind of scenario can be obtained if the works are combined.

However, unfortunately I cannot explain to you exactly how these issues work here. The biggest reason for this is that these three scientific issues have not yet been fully proven. In fact, the subject of my academic thesis is about these and I have developed a theory that will explain everything on this subject. However, since there may be a copyright problem both scientifically and in terms of the work, I do not think it would be right to tell you my opinion right now.

My first real taste of storytelling came in high school, when a creative writing teacher read one of my pieces and simply said, “This is beautiful.” I don’t remember much else from that class—but that moment stuck. It cracked something open in me. I started writing short stories—moody, twisty things that never saw publication, and maybe weren’t meant to. They always felt like they lived better in the shadows, anyway. But I never stopped writing. I couldn’t. Even when I had nothing to say, I still needed to say it.

College surprised me. I veered left into theater and drama, which I hadn’t planned for. Suddenly I was studying Chekhov and Shakespeare, performing monologues, writing stage plays, acting in student productions. I loved it—especially the live heartbeat of a performance. But life moved fast after that, and I stepped away from the stage. Ten years blinked by.

Now I’m circling back.

Lately I’ve been working on a novel—off and on, six months deep and halfway through. I’m also beginning to explore TV writing. The genres I keep coming back to—both as a reader and writer—are thriller, horror, romance, mystery, and the occasional comedy. That might sound like a chaotic mix, but to me they all explore the same core questions: What do we fear? What do we long for? What do we laugh at when things fall apart?

I’m excited to be here, to learn, to share, and to connect with others chasing the same strange need to tell stories. Looking forward to meeting many of you.

Hi everyone,

I recently posted a journal-style teaser from a supernatural series I’m developing, based on my novel.

The story follows a young girl who sees the spiritual world—angels, demons, and silent, wandering forces that no one else can.

This moment is one of her earliest memories: a regular bus ride that turned into something unforgettable.

Would love to hear your thoughts—feedback, impressions, or just opinions on using this kind of emotional scene as a pilot opening.

> Everyone was laughing on the bus. I just sat there and saw him.

He stood behind the child. Hooded, hooked nose, long fingers.

He didn’t move. Just stared. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I could feel them.

I tugged on my mother’s sleeve and pointed—she scolded me for staring at a sick boy.

But I wasn’t pointing at the boy... I was pointing at what stood behind him.

When I looked again, he was right in front of me.

And then he spoke.

“You can see me, can’t you?”

#TVPilot #Tammy #SupernaturalDrama #DarkFantasy #FirstEncounter #Screenwriting #SpiritualSeries

In today’s film industry, one of the most crucial decisions for a film’s success is resource allocation, especially when it comes to marketing. It is essential to recognize that the production budget should not be the sole focus of investment. In fact, a significant portion of the budget should be allocated to marketing strategies. In an oversaturated content market, making an excellent film is not enough; it is crucial to ensure that it reaches the right audience and creates the necessary impact to stand out among the many options available.

Marketing not only serves to promote the film once it’s finished, but it should begin long before the project is ready for release. Good marketing should be present from the early stages of production, generating anticipation, creating relevant content, and building a community of followers. Investing in marketing not only ensures that the film reaches a wider audience but also allows for the creation of a narrative that hooks viewers even before they see the film. Well-executed campaigns can generate effective word-of-mouth, create trends, and maximize visibility, which leads to greater interest, ticket sales, and, ultimately, a higher return on investment.

A clear example of the importance of this approach is seen in major film franchises, where a significant portion of the budget is dedicated to creating global campaigns, generating media impact that makes audiences feel attracted and motivated to go to the cinema. Without solid marketing, even the best stories can go unnoticed. In fact, the most successful films at the box office are not necessarily the most original, but rather those that have been marketed most effectively.

Therefore, allocating a significant portion of the budget to marketing is not an additional expense but a strategic investment in the project’s future. In the end, marketing not only promotes the film but also builds the brand of the filmmaker and the project, which can have a lasting impact on the careers of everyone involved.

Censorship imposed by large corporations in the cinematic world is one of the most complex realities that independent filmmakers face today. While in some contexts censorship may have a protective or regulatory function, the censorship exercised by the major film corporations often has a much more insidious intention: controlling the messages that are broadcast, limiting the diversity of voices, and ultimately maximizing profits at the expense of artistic authenticity and freedom of expression.

In the world of commercial cinema, the large corporations that control the main distributors and production companies not only control access to financial resources but also the types of content that are deemed "viable" for mass audiences. These corporations tend to promote narratives that are comfortable, easily digestible, and that don't challenge the status quo too much. This means that stories dealing with uncomfortable topics or offering alternative viewpoints—such as critiques of the economic system, politics, or dominant culture—are often discarded or altered until they lose their essence.

Censorship is not always explicit, like it would be in a totalitarian regime, but it is often exercised in more subtle ways: through market manipulation, limiting representation, or imposing narrative formulas that guarantee a certain type of commercial success. This corporate censorship acts as an invisible barrier that reduces the plurality of ideas and visions in cinema.

So, how should we fight against this censorship as independent filmmakers? First, we must recognize that independence is not only about financial autonomy but also about creative freedom. As filmmakers outside the major studio system, we have the privilege and responsibility to remain true to our vision and create works that are not conditioned by the demands of the mass market. The key is to take advantage of new technologies, digital distribution platforms, and social networks, which have opened up spaces for independent cinema like never before. Today, audiences have access to a broader variety of content, allowing us to connect directly with people who are seeking different stories.

Furthermore, we must maintain a critical and resistant attitude toward commercial interests. This doesn't mean rejecting collaboration with the industry, but it does involve being aware of the risks of compromising artistic integrity in favor of immediate commercial success. Cinema has the power to educate, mobilize, and inspire, and when we yield to corporate pressures, this power is diluted.

It is also essential that independent filmmakers support each other, creating collaborative networks that help us overcome financial and distribution challenges. By coming together as a collective, we can counterbalance the weight of large corporations and make our voices heard with greater strength. Independent film festivals, alternative streaming platforms, and crowdfunding initiatives are just some examples of how we can build a community that challenges the norms imposed by the traditional industry.

Finally, we must remember that cinema has always been a form of resistance, questioning, and transformation. From the earliest cinematic movements to the most subversive contemporary films, cinema has reflected the struggle for freedom of expression. As independent filmmakers, we have the duty to continue that tradition, fighting for cinema that not only entertains but also challenges, educates, and transforms.

Fighting corporate censorship in cinema is a challenge, but it is also an opportunity to redefine what it means to be a filmmaker in the 21st century. Instead of yielding to market pressures, we must embrace our ability to create authentic, diverse, and brave cinema that remains true to our vision and connects with audiences who are looking for something beyond conventional narratives.

Robert Rodriguez interview. reminders on Manifestation, taking that step. A Producer friend of mine from New York took a chance and reached out to two different producers here in Los Angeles, setting up a lunch with the three of them. He wasn’t expecting them to say yes, but they did and he flew out to Los Angeles and had a really good meeting. he recommended this podcast. We had a really good conversation ourselves about going for it and not getting in the way of yourself. I’m in the middle of this podcast but wanted to post for you all. have a wonderful creative weekend.

https://youtu.be/xJoT3bJyHuA?si=beZuDLyBs7dXMohJ

Hello Fellow Screenwriters. Well today is the last day for Skype. I wrote in one of my scripts that someone skypes. Since I am not savvy on technology, I was hoping someone can think of a FUTURISTIC way to communicate with someone in another country other than using a phone or computer. I was thinking of maybe a clear screen where you see images (don't know what this is called)? Or you put on a visor and see images? Anyone have any ideas? Thanks