A story jumble is a big, randomly organized mosaic of images, quotes, audio, and other media drawn mostly from the Web which serve as inspiration for creative projects. It’s not meant to be an outline or a story board, or make any kind of linear narrative sense. Hence the term jumble. And also, yes, the name rhymes with “tumble”, though I resisted calling this a “tumbl jumbl”.

Story Jumble for Ice Boy

Tumblr makes it very easy to save, categorize and format various kinds of information, be it a pic, quote or a snip of a conversation. Many sites have a share-button enabled for Tumblr, so you’re usually only a click away from adding, say, a photo from Flickr. There are also some fantastic tumbleblogs chock full of stunning concept art which you can follow and then “reblog” or repost to your own collection — again, with just a click. The Staky 2 theme for Tumblr turns what is usually a long narrow column of information — classic tumbleblog format — into something like a mosaic.

Categorizing according to project is a simple matter of tagging. I created a few custom links in the sidebar so I could quickly switch between projects. I just link to the appropriate tag.

I have no doubt that many folks out there have at one time or other snipped photos from magazines and pasted them onto foam core or tacked them onto cork boards as inspiration. The idea of an inspiration board is nothing new, but the all-digital story jumble’s purpose is to facilitate the quick gathering and displaying of media in a way that keeps inspiration simmering. I find the process of sorting, choosing, filing and reviewing images and other media a great way to “think” about my project without trying to force inspiration. It’s a kind of back door into my muse’s fortress, a sneaky way to casually stroll past resistance without raising the alarm. As items accrue, patterns and connections begin to suggest themselves. Creative leaps are made.  My favorite collection so far is something I’m just referring to as Seekrit Projeckt #1 for the moment. Though I began with a general idea of the setting and tone, I didn’t have much else. While gathering images for the story jumble, I discovered two new characters who will be in the story.

Story Jumble for Seekrit Projeckt #1

I’m also experimenting with using my story jumble to help pitch my work. I’ve interspersed bits of dialogue in my Troop 51 Saves the World jumble to help set the tone and tease the story a bit more specifically. Magazine covers and movie posters help sell the pulpy vibe. Together the images solidify the story as something real in the mind. It’s like a teaser trailer, laid out one frame at a time.

A few caveats. It took a good two days to massage Tumblr’s setting and get everything working. and there are still glitches. Significantly, images tend to get piled on top of each other at the bottom of the page. Sometimes refreshing the browser helps, but it’s hit or miss. Also, Tumblr is (in)famous for being unreliable, and only yesterday the whole service went down for what seemed like a half an hour. Even today, it’s responding slowly. I’m considering moving things over to my own domain, but then I lose the ease of snipping things from the web.

For your browsing and inspirational convenience, here are the links to my current projects.

Troop 51 Saves the World

The Ice Boy

Seekrit Projeckt #1

Enjoy.

If you have your own inspiration board, be it digital, analog or a combination, please share it and your process in the comments.

I soon grew to appreciate his insights during our critique sessions as well. Also, watching Jay churn through drafts of scenes and whole scripts, watching him do whatever it took to get to the good stuff, was a lesson in tempering the ego, rolling up the sleeves and getting to work. It’s really no surprise that he should be the first of our now-defunct group to break out.

And he’s breaking out in a big way. His first film, Balls to the Wall, has sold more advanced tickets for tonight’s premiere at the Newport Beach Film Festival than any film in the festival’s history. Directed by Wayne’s World director Penelope Spheeris, Balls is the story of a guy forced to secretly moonlight as an exotic dancer in order to pay for his extravagant wedding.

Jay was kind enough to answer a few questions via email before the premiere:

Who is Jason Nutt and how did he come to be a screenwriter? How would you characterize a “Jason Nutt” screenplay?

Jason Nutt is an amiable knucklehead from New Jersey who was born with an unfortunate last name (alas, not a pseudonym). He grew up on the standard ‘80s diet of Lucas and Spielberg but actually decided to become a filmmaker after seeing John Carpenter’s Halloween when he was twelve. For whatever reason, there was something about that movie that made me say to myself, “This is what I want to do with my life. I’m going to write and direct my own movies and scare the shit out of people.” So naturally, flash forward twentysomething years and my first produced credit is a goofy comedy about a male stripper.

In between those two milestones, I majored in Media Study at the State University of New York at Buffalo with a concentration on film; I wrote and directed a spectacularly inept senior project that made me realize that maybe I should just stick to writing screenplays and let somebody else actually make the movie; I failed to get into any of the major graduate screenwriting programs, received my undergrad diploma and wondered if my life was over; and after a lost year living with my parents, I moved out to Los Angeles at the age of 23 and enrolled in the UCLA Professional Program in Screenwriting. And so my 14-year slog to this moment began.

I don’t know how I’d characterize a “Jason Nutt” screenplay. I guess they usually center around a well-meaning idiot who finds himself in over his head in some absurd situation and does his best to stay afloat, a description that I just realized sort of characterizes my life as well. At least the well-meaning idiot part.

I’m always interested in how the writing process works for each individual writer. Can you describe your writing routines and rituals, and also talk about your writing environment?

Well, my writing routines and rituals were pretty much blown to hell when my wife gave birth to our daughter almost three years ago. Since then I’ve learned to basically write whatever I can, whenever my can – at five in the morning, during my lunch break at my day job, ten o’clock at night, you name it. I’ve sort of trained myself to get as much done as I can in the time that I’ve got, figuring that even a semi-coherent handwritten page of dialogue that I can revise later is better than nothing at all. I’ve technically got an office in our house, but I never actually write there; I usually set up my laptop in our kitchen or pull out a spiral notebook and write on the floor while my kid colors next to me.

Everyone basically is on their own when it comes to learning the craft of screenwriting. Can you trace your own education in the craft? What was helpful? What lead you down the wrong path?

My education pretty much began when my dad bought me Syd Field’s Selling a Screenplay: The Screenwriter’s Guide to Hollywood for Christmas shortly after my Halloween epiphany. I then picked up the other Field books and Lew Hunter and Richard Walter’s respective screenwriting tomes. I think I checked Michael Hauge’s first book out of the library and Xeroxed the pages about script formatting. And that was about it; not too many screenwriting books out there in the late ‘80s/early ‘90s. At college I would buy scripts at those giant poster sales that would occasionally take place in the student union. The Media Study department didn’t really have a formal screenwriting class, but I did take an independent study with an English professor in which I learned exactly nothing but at least got the chance to write my first feature-length script for credit. Basically I was completely self-taught until I met the writer Tim Albaugh, my instructor at UCLA, who forced me to unlearn various bad writing habits and showed me how you should properly structure and write a screenplay. If it weren’t for Tim, I would never have made it this far in the business. I guarantee it.

You have achieved what is essentially the goal of every aspiring screenwriter. The film you wrote is premiering on the Big Screen tonight. What’s it feel like to have a dream come true? Is it completely surreal, or has this become just one more step in a long journey?

When I stop to think about it, it really does feel completely surreal, but it’s been such a long process that it usually doesn’t seem as monumental as it should. I came up with the idea for the movie in the fall of 2004, I finished writing the script in the summer of 2005, it was optioned in 2008, purchased and shot in 2010 and now in 2011 the finished film is finally making its debut. The whole thing seemed to unfold in such slow motion that I never seriously believed it would ever happen until the very first day of filming, and even then I wasn’t sure.

I’ll never forget when I got the check for the script sale. It arrived via Fedex at the post office box we rent; I signed for the envelope, returned to the car, opened the envelope and my wife and I sat there for a moment, staring at the check in my hand. And all I could think was, “Huh.” It wasn’t until later when I realized, Idiot, you basically just won the lottery. So yeah, pretty weird.

Those of us who weren’t lucky enough to be born here in Southern California face the difficult task of deciding if and when to make the move to Hollywood. As someone who began about as far away geographically from Hollywood as you can get, please talk a bit about how you reached the tipping point of knowing it was time to make the big move.

I always knew that I would end up out here in Southern California. I learned pretty early on that Lucas and Carpenter went to USC, so that was always the dream. There was always the film industry in New York City; given my Scorsese obsession at the time, that kind of made sense, but Manhattan scared me — I feared I’d take the wrong subway one day and never see the sun again. And after four years of brutal Buffalo winters, I was ready for an environment in which I wouldn’t have to help dig somebody’s car out of a snowbank every time we wanted to go to the supermarket.

But grad school didn’t happen and I wasn’t sure what the next move to make would be. As I mentioned before, after graduation I was living back home with my folks – in the basement, which seemed weirdly appropriate – and at some point I heard about UCLA’s Professional Program. I realized that not only might this be a good on-ramp to getting into the MFA program, but if nothing else it would be a good excuse to move out west. The notion of just emigrating to L.A. without any kind of game plan was overwhelming, but if I had a class as my anchor, things seemed slightly more doable. So I worked nights in the local cable station, saved up my money, got a loan from my grandmother, convinced a buddy to accompany me on the drive across the country and pulled out of my parents’ driveway in August of 1997. I’ve been a west coast resident since the day I finally pulled into Westwood.

Is having a rep essential to selling a screenplay? You made a tough call at one point to let go of your manager and fly solo. What advice to you have, looking back on your own experience, for those who seek representation? Would you have done anything differently?

I’ve had two managers and I don’t regret either experience. It was the second manager who submitted my script to Fortress Features, who optioned it and ultimately got the movie made. That manager and I did part ways shortly thereafter; it was the right decision for a number of reasons but we’d had a pretty good run. Early on, he did open many doors for me.

I know people sell scripts and land assignments without reps, but I don’t know how they do it. In my experience, having an agent or manager in your corner is absolutely essential. It’s ridiculously hard to find somebody, of course; I’m in the middle of it right now. As for what I’d do differently, this time around I’m trying to sign with somebody who really gets who I am as writer. That sounds stupid and obvious and kind of like saying, “I’d like to date a girl with arms and legs”, but all too often you’ll meet a manager who’s interested in you as the potential writer of movies that they want you to write, rather than what you’re personally interested in. It kind of flattering, but at this point I’d rather write one of my own ideas on spec than spend 3-6 months on somebody else’s. Unless somebody else’s idea is a slam dunk that’s going to sell for seven figures in which case, oh, okay.

Thanks to social networking sites, blogs, Wikipedia and IMDb, screenwriters are no longer the shadow-dwellers they once were. How prepared are you for fame in the digital age? You’ve dipped your toe in the waters of Twitter, and done some blogging. Will social media play a role for you as a writer?

I’d prefer that it wouldn’t, but I suspect social media is just one of those things that I need to get used to, like middle age or traffic on the 405. I’ll continue to be dragged, kicking and screaming — or maybe just bitching and moaning — into the 21^st century. Damn it.

Balls to the Wall, like many screenplays, took an indirect path to the Big Screen. Can you give us a brief chronology of the journey, from that first spark of an idea and including the twists and turns and surprises you encountered along the way?

Well, like I mentioned earlier, I had the idea in 2004 – I’d just gotten engaged to my then-girlfriend and the glow of “hey, we’re gonna get married!” had just worn off, replaced by the dread of “hey, we gotta figure out how to pay for this shit!” One day, while we were trying to sort things out, I joked that I could moonlight as a stripper and my fiancée said, “That would actually be a funny movie. You should write that.” Slow learner that I am, I replied, “Why the hell would I want to do that? I can’t write a movie about a male stripper.” And I moved on to whatever other dumbass script idea I was toying with at the time. A couple of months later, though, I started taking notes on the stripper story – ideas just sort of came to me, and before I knew it, I had an outline that I shared with my writing group. Then I was suddenly writing the script, then it was done, then I was revising it. At no point did I ever say, “Yes! This is the script that will help me break in!” It just sort of happened.

I’d made a friend at a production company via an earlier script. I gave him a draft of the stripper script – then titled WEDDING RINGS AND G-STRINGS – and he passed it on to a friend of his, the manager who then signed me. In the fall of 2005 he went out with the spec and everybody passed. I got a couple of meetings, one production company gave me some notes that I incorporated, but that was it. I had a dead spec on my hands. I moved on, wrote another spec that almost sold, tried to keep things moving. In the spring of 2007 my manager submitted WEDDING RINGS as a writing sample to Brett Forbes and Patrick Rizzotti of Fortress Features. I met with them to discuss a project they needed a writer on, but during the meeting, they mentioned that they could see WEDDING RINGS being made with a certain actor. Pretty soon we were in regular contact about my script and before I knew it, they were developing it with me and shopping the project around under a few different titles – though they didn’t officially option the script until a year later.

What happened from there could fill a book and I won’t bore you with the details. (These are just about the only details I don’t seem to be boring you with.) But actors came and went, potential directors came and went, co-producers came and went, but Brett and Patrick stuck with my stupid script, clinging to it like a couple of pit bulls chomping down on somebody’s leg. Much to their credit, they wouldn’t let go, and in the spring of 2009 they somehow got the script to Penelope Spheeris, who was interested. The four of us began intensely developing the script – I can’t tell you how many drafts I churned out over that summer and fall. They found independent financing, assembled a cast and crew and the production company finally purchased my script in March of 2010, shortly before shooting. They made the movie and here we are.

Since the movie is an indie, we don’t currently have a distributor in place. The financier has recently been screening the movie for various distribution companies and hopefully things will come together soon. Maybe a positive reaction at the Newport Beach Film Festival will help. We’ll see.

Probably few screenplays make it to the screen unchanged. What are your thoughts on the final product and how does it compare to your original intent?

I’m pretty happy with how it turned out – even though many of the details have changed, for better or worse it’s essentially the movie that I envisioned when I came up with the original story. Penelope, Patrick and Brett were amazing collaborators; there were definitely some bumps in the road and there are a few things in the movie that I would have done differently, but that’s par for the course. And many times, somebody would give me a note that I initially resisted, then later realized would actually work really well. For the notes that I really didn’t care for but was outvoted on, I made it my mission to try to implement them in a way that would please everybody without making me want to blow my brains out.

Working with Penelope was like film school. Even if this movie had died in development, at least I could have walked away with what she’d taught me about scene economy and pacing and writing for a low budget. Despite the occasional frustration, it was a really incredible learning experience.

Most of us don’t get to choose when lightning strikes. When your writing career suddenly gained traction, you had a day job and a family to juggle in addition to your writing duties. How did you manage?

It was really difficult sometimes. Not only did we have a newborn at home, I’d just started a new day job around the same time my daughter was born. Juggling work, the movie and the insanity of parenting was occasionally rough. The script money was great, but not enough for me to write full time – and it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, since I didn’t get paid until right before production began. My wife knew how much this meant to me and was incredibly supportive, but only up to a point; listening to me have a script conference on my phone as we walked through Disneyland was not her idea of a Kodak moment. I don’t think she ever expected the endless phone calls and endless rewrites, especially in the few months leading up to production. She began referring to the director as my “other wife.”

On the one hand, I was totally living the dream and loving it – I wouldn’t trade that experience for anything. On the other hand, it was totally not what I imagined writing a movie would be like. There was a lot of delicate time management involved, and sometimes things would just go kaflooey at once. But whatever – I was lucky to have such problems!

In what ways did you get pushed outside of your comfort zone in the course of seeing this movie to fruition and how did you handle that?

Learning the art of collaboration and compromise was the biggest obstacle. It was no longer my script – it was OUR script. And then when it was optioned and bought, it was THEIR script. And if I wanted the movie to be made, I had to learn to play along and play nice. I’m a pretty mellow guy to begin with, so it wasn’t that hard, but it was the first time that I had someone telling me what to do and I had no choice but to make it work. So yeah, I guess becoming a professional writer was one of the ways that I was pushed outside of my comfort zone.

What has been your low-point in the whole writing journey so far? How did you survive it, and how do you handle the darker days in general?

So many low points, so little time… I guess my all-time low point was around 2003-2004, when I decided to give up on writing. I was in a bad spot personally to begin with – it was before I’d met the woman who would become my wife and my job situation was tenuous. I was unhappy with my writing – there was one screenplay in particular that I just kept rewriting and rewriting because I felt obligated to make it work for some reason. And it sucked. And I realized that if I wasn’t enjoying the act of writing, then why was I even bothering? So I stopped. That was it. I was done.

… At least until I started writing again a couple of months later. And that was when I realized that I couldn’t stop. As cheeseball as it sounds, I suddenly understood that being a screenwriter was who I was. I deep-sixed the lousy screenplay – it wasn’t like Wonder Boys when the manuscript goes fluttering away in the wind, but it might as well have been. And things somehow got better in my writing and my life.

As for how I handle the darker days now, I suspect I’m still the same old hand-wringing neurotic. The difference now is that I’m a hand-wringing neurotic who has been through enough to know that nothing is permanent, not even failure. For every blown opportunity, there’s always going to be a new one as long as you’re willing to look out for it. Also, I have my wife to keep things in perspective for me, call me on my bullshit and occasionally hold my hand when it really is warranted. And she’s an amazing baker; funny how things seem less dire after a couple of freshly baked cookies.

What’s next for screenwriter Jason Nutt? What does the future hold for you?

Excellent question. Right now I just want to get through the rewrite of my latest spec, land a kick-ass agent and/or manager and try to make writing my full-time gig. In the immediate future I’ll probably read this over and wonder why I tried to answer your questions at one in the morning. Sorry for babbling. Who the hell do I think I am, Robert Towne?!

UPDATE: After the writing of this post, and after a storm of controversy, Amazon has instituted options to allow writers to bar others from editing their work.

Hold everything. Before you go rushing off to upload your script to Amazon Studios, there are a few things you should know. Like that the prize money can be divided up amongst multiple participants. It all depends, you know, on who made your script better.

That’s right. Your script can be reworked by other contest entrants. You don’t even need an original screenplay to enter, you can just go about revising other entries. It’s crowd-sourcing for screenplays and it deserves some careful thought. Oh, and I should mention that you are giving Amazon a free option on your material for 18 months. More on that in a bit.

Let’s take a look at some interesting snippets from the Amazon Studio FAQ:

The essence of the Agreement is that if you upload an original script or movie (thereby starting a new project), Amazon Studios gets three important things with respect to your work:

• The exclusive right to buy it (and its associated rights) during the 18 month term of the option, for $200,000 plus other possible bonuses. We can extend this option another 18 months by paying you $10,000.
• The exclusive right to develop it during the option term (for instance by putting it up at Amazon Studios and inviting people to review it, to make movies based on it and to revise it).
• The right to show and distribute it (and scripts and movies based on it) forever. We do not have the right to show it or movies based on it to people in theaters, or on DVD or Blu-Ray, or via linear broadcast or cable TV or a la carte sales or rentals online, except for short clips, but we can keep it up on our website and otherwise distribute it without exercising our option. There is no “delete my stuff” button.

So for 18 months after you create a project at Amazon Studios, you cannot display, sell or license your script or test movie elsewhere, or withdraw it for any reason. However, when the option term ends, if we haven’t exercised our option and purchased your work, you will get back non-exclusive rights to your original material.

Amazon owns your material for 18 months for free and you can’t withdraw your entry or change your mind. I’m not even sure how a “contract” like that is enforceable, since nothing of value has been given you in return. In any event, it ought to give even the iron-bladdered amongst us serious pause.

More from the FAQ:

Who else can revise my work?
Any participant at Amazon Studios can revise a script or test movie. But, as explained above, revisions do not replace each other; they are simply alternate versions.
Can I make it so that no one else can revise my original work?
No. But if someone makes changes that are bad, their version is not likely to get a lot of attention. And if someone comes along and makes your work better, you’re more likely to win a prize and get your project made. Sometimes other people can bring a different viewpoint or a different set of skills that take the story in a new direction or add new elements that make it even more compelling. The Amazon Studios process is designed to facilitate and reward these contributions.

Once you donate your script to Amazon for 18 months, anyone can have their way with it. And grab some of that $100,000 contest money. Your artistic vision? Just so much clay for others to mold.

This is definitely a different approach to making movies. But is a screenplay just a piece of code that benefits from open-source development, like an Internet browser or a smart phone operating system? What does this approach really say about writers and writing?

Honestly I haven’t had time to absorb all of this. My initial thoughts as a writer?

Fuck you, Amazon.

That might change.

What are your thoughts?

But there’s really no real trick to writing a screenplay fast. Not any that are worth a $50 cover price, anyway. Honest. I’ve written piles of screenplays, most of them in under ten weeks when I was a grad student at UCLA. Trust me on this, just having a first draft is only the beginning of the process and it’s no great feat.^[1]

I’m contemplating a series of posts that will be accessible here for free which will take everyone through a ten week screenplay writing process.^[2] Or maybe twelve weeks or sixteen. In any event, it won’t cost a thing and if you want to get a screenplay written, you will. Happens all the time, so I know you can do it.

In the meantime, as promised, here’s a few tools to help you get through that first draft, just in case you’re hung up and need a little help now. I like to think not in terms of writing fast, but in terms of keeping momentum. The idea is just to keep moving forward. That’s what these tools are designed to do — get you over the rough spots so you can keep going.

Timed Writing

I didn’t say any of these “tools” were new.

This one goes by many names, but I like to refer to it as THE EGG TIMER OF DOOM!

Got three hours to write? You’re screwed. That’s a long stretch. Too long to stay focused. You need to break that down into shorter sessions. Get a kitchen timer, one that goes tick-tick-tick is good. You know, like a bomb. You want to feel like something’s at stake. Like, when the bell rings, you are gonna die. Okay, maybe not to that extreme, but the idea here is to put just enough pressure on yourself that you shut down the inner critic and just fly.

You only have to follow one rule — as long as the timer ticks, you keep writing. No stopping until the alarm sounds. No matter what.

Only you can tell what amount of time works best for you. I would start with shorter amounts and increase the time in successive back-to-back sessions. Write for five minutes, take a breather, then set the timer for ten and go again. I would say twenty minutes is the probably the most you could get away with and still feel the pressure to write.

You can’t, or at least shouldn’t, write like this all time. But if you find yourself avoiding a difficult scene, or you have trouble just getting started, or you find yourself distracted and not getting any work done, consider a timed writing session to help you snap back into focus.

List of 20

I used to call this the list of five, but I modified it after I heard Bill Marsili talk about basically the same idea at a screenwriting con.

This tool is best for those times when you arrive at one of those “I’ll figure it out later” moments in the outline — only later is now. An outline can’t contain all the details of your script, after all, and sometimes you just have to gloss. But sooner or later, you come to a chasm that must be crossed and you still have no idea how to get to the other side.

Right there on your writing pad or your laptop screen, brainstorm twenty ideas. Don’t judge, just list. How can my protag escape a prison cell with no doors or windows? Or survive a fire that kills everyone else in the warehouse? Or convince his girlfriend that he really changed this time, honest? List twenty ideas, no matter how implausible or goofy they are.

You know why this works. Once you get your brain a-problem solvin, it won’t be long before a good solution shows up. After all, it’s hard to come up with twenty bad ideas all in a row. You’re bound to hit on something workable, even if it’s by accident. You probably won’t even get to twenty.

Write the Bad Version

What if you really can’t think of a workable idea, even after you tried writing with a timer and brainstorming twenty ideas? What if you totally suck and all you have right now are bad ideas?

Go ahead and write the bad version. On purpose.

Why do that? Because you are taking control instead of being the victim. Instead of another day of getting beaten down and having nothing to show, you will have taken a stand and demonstrated your commitment to yourself and to the craft.

And because it’s really hard to be consistently bad on purpose for any significant length of time. Like brainstorming, once you get the juices flowing, you’re bound to hit your stride — even if you stumbled around a bit out of the starting blocks.

And finally, because it’s only a draft, no one else will ever see it, and once you have something down on paper, you can start making decisions about it. It’s impossible to edit, rewrite and improve a scene that’s still in your head. So don’t wait for it to be perfect. Get it down on paper. Even if you have to be the worst writer in the world in that moment.

Write it anyway.

1. In fact, I much prefer to skip the first draft altogether and start with the second draft, but that’s a different post.
2. Depends on if there is any interest at all, and if I have the time.

Long, long ago, back in the day, I touched off a bit of a meme when I placed a screenplay progress meter in my sidebar. Everyone had to have one, and the Internet beat a path to my blog looking for the code. Back then, it was all HTML and CSS. The source code had to be edited everytime I wrote a few pages and wanted to update my progress. That was especially a pain when I was on Blogger.

Blogging software has come a long way since then, and WordPress in particular has become both incredibly robust and much more user-friendly. Thanks to WordPress’s Widget API, I’ve now been able to do what there was little hope of me doing a few years ago — I’ve transformed my screenplay progress meter into a plug-in widget for WordPress users.

Introducing Dave’s Whizmatic Widgulating Calibrational Scribometer^TM (it’s pronounced scri-BOM-eter). All you have to do is install and activate the plug-in (whizmatic!), drop the widget into your sidebar (widgulate!), fill in a few simple options at the widget control panel (calibrate!), and abrakadoodle: your very own Scribometer^TM screenplay progress meter is now yours to display and you didn’t have to touch a single line of code.

That is, when I get around to releasing it. If you can’t wait, you can email me for the alpha release. Otherwise, wait a bit until I get something I can reasonably call “documentation” done. Then it’s all yours for the taking.^[1]

1. Um, donations accepted, of course.