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INTRODUCTION
WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW FROM THE GET-GO
Shortly before I turned sweet sixteen, I begged my mother to take me on a trip to Los Angeles. Most girls my age had their sights set on the junior prom. I was thinking about my future career as a TV writer.
Why my mother actually agreed to this crazy cross-country jaunt is still somewhat of a mystery to me. Whatever her reason, a few months later we left our small Cape Cod town, hopped on a westbound 737 and headed for Southern California. Once there, we drove along the Sunset Strip, strolled the Hollywood Walk of Fame, and marveled at the footprints outside Grauman’s Theatre. A few days later, we took the Universal Studios tour. I remember standing in the hills above the studio, looking down at the glimmering soundstages through a thick haze I would later come to know as smog. I was in heaven. “Some day I am going to work here,” I declared.
“Are you?” she asked in a way that said “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Thirteen years later, I was back at Universal on Stage 42, this time as a writer, watching my first show, an episode of Charles In Charge being taped. The dream had come true.
If it sounds like becoming a TV writer was easy, the truth is, it was anything but. In the 13 years between high school and the sale of my first script, I worked harder than I have ever worked in my life. I went to college, earned a degree, moved 3000 miles away from family and friends, and got my foot in the door by working entry-level production jobs at Columbia Pictures and Universal Studios. For six long years, I paid my dues: getting people coffee, taking phone messages, fetching lunch, Xeroxing, and typing. And that was just to pay the bills.
In order to get my writing career up and running, every day my alarm would blare at 5:00 a.m. I’d stumble out of bed in the early morning darkness, turn on my computer and write for two hours before going to work. On weekends it was more of the same. I turned down invitations to beach parties and barbecues and instead drove to my office where I wrote and rewrote, feverishly perfecting script after script in hopes of catching the attention of producers and agents. There were days — lots of them — when I thought I would never catch a break.
If it was hard to find work as a television writer then, it is, perhaps, 1000 times more difficult now.
You may be wondering, how can this be? Gone are the dinosaur days of television in which there were three networks that produced limited programming, and therefore comparatively limited opportunities for TV writers. Today, cable television is exploding, and it’s all about original programming. Companies like HBO, Showtime, Lifetime, and A&E are churning out series after series, movie after movie. All of these programs have to be written by someone, right? The answer is yes, and that’s the good news.
The bad news is, that while the need for television writers has dramatically increased, the competition for jobs has never been so fierce. Enter the office of any agent, producer, or studio executive on any given day and it is almost certain to be piled floor to ceiling with scripts from writers hoping to find work. This should come as no surprise. Television writing is both lucrative (a 1-hour network script currently goes for over 35 grand) and fun (who hasn’t secretly fantasized about putting words into Don Draper’s mouth?).
And let’s not forget the fame factor. Not so long ago, TV viewers didn’t give an owl’s hoot who wrote the shows they watched. Today, writers like Larry David, Joss Whedon, and Shonda Rhimes are as much household names as the actors who bring their characters and dialogue to life. Add to this the fact that, when done well, television writing actually looks easy. Thus hoards of people, from the recent college graduate to the YouTube fame and fortune seeker to the untrained couch potato think they can do it.
In addition to the inexperienced writers, the industry is also overcrowded with established writers who have long lists of credits and accolades. When hit series like Breaking Bad and 30 Rock go off the air, the writers from those shows almost always move on to other programs. If that weren’t horrible enough, feature film writers also now hunger for a piece of the television pie. Once upon a time, television writing was considered inferior to feature film writing. TV writers were quietly — and sometimes not so quietly — thought of as hacks, while feature film writers were put on pedestals and branded “artists.” Today the barriers between the two are almost nonexistent. Mega-talents like Aaron Sorkin (The Social Network) think nothing of picking up an Oscar and waltzing off the stage into series television (The Newsroom). This is partly because companies like HBO and Netflix have become well known for producing programs that are innovative, groundbreaking, and more often than not, oh so risqué. TV has also developed a reputation as a place where writers can actually get projects made. Impossible as it may be to get a new TV series off of the ground, it’s still a heck of a lot easier than getting a feature film produced.
What this all boils down to is that television writing has not only come into its own, it’s become downright hot. Writing for the small screen has suddenly become the cool thing that nearly everyone wants to do. However competitive you imagine it to be, it is probably a hundred thousand times more so.
But, there is more good news. Despite the intense competition, Hollywood is always open to — make that searching for — a fresh voice with a cutting edge point of view. And the truth is, new writers break into the TV industry every day. So how do you bull your way through all of the competition and stand out amongst the pack? First, you must master your craft. You must learn to create dynamic stories that border on the outrageous rather than the bland, while at the same time are character specific and match the feel, style, and direction of the show. Next, you must come to realize that in today’s competitive marketplace, it is not nearly enough to just be a great writer. In order to get work produced, you must also develop a keen understanding of the business side of television writing.
In the pages that lie ahead, I will teach you how to craft smart, original scripts and teleplays. I will educate you in how the TV business operates, and I will offer proven tips on how to best get your work off of your computer and into the hands of agents, producers, and executives. Like an Olympic coach trains a prizefighter, I will push you to your outer-most limits. The journey will be difficult. I will sugarcoat nothing. You will probably get frustrated many times along the way. And when we are finished, the only thing I can promise in absolute good faith is that, script in hand, you will be ready to step into the ring. Beyond that, there are no guarantees. Lesson Number One: The industry is full of really great writers, most of whom are out of work.
Now, that we are clear on what I bring to this relationship, let’s talk about you. In order for us to succeed, there are things you must bring to the table as well — things I cannot teach you. First, you must reach into the very depths of your soul and come up with an unfailing commitment to both yourself and to your TV writing career. Here and now, you must promise to write every day, even if it’s only a page. Excuses don’t interest me. We can all find a gazillion reasons not to write. At the end of the day, excuses only stall the dream.
Next, you must vow to live life to its fullest. On one hand, the TV industry reaches out to young writers — on the other hand, young writers are often criticized for churning out scripts that are void of emotion and lack a definitive point of view. To truly be a successful television writer you must extend your scope and vision further than your own backyard. You can’t write what you don’t know. So get out and explore the planet. See firsthand how other people live. Volunteer at soup kitchens, hospitals, homeless shelters, nursing homes, and crisis centers. It may not be glamorous, but it will make your writing rich.
You must also develop a strong sense of self. Writing, like all art, is subjective. The plain and simple truth is that not everyone is going to love everything you write. Sometimes the criticism will be valid, sometimes downright ridiculous. Either way, it’s not going to feel good. As you put your work out there, you may knock on a hundred doors, and they may all slam in your face. At a core level, you must believe in yourself and in your talent with such vigor that you are able to pick yourself up, brush yourself off, and find the courage and confidence to knock on door number one-oh-one.
As much as you will need your ego to succeed, you must also keep it in check. TV writing may be fun, and if you achieve any kind of success, people will probably fawn all over you. But when all is said and done, you must remember that it is, after all, only entertainment. Lesson Number Two: Writing for television is not nearly as noble as finding a cure for cancer or stomping out world hunger, or a whole bunch of other things.
You may be scared, wondering if you can actually do this. I don’t have the answer to that. I can only say that you won’t know for sure unless or until you try.
A week after I was hired to write the episode of Charles in Charge I ran into Bill Greer, the show’s supervising producer and head writer. Standing outside the Universal commissary in the blinding California sun, he asked me how the script was coming. “Okay,” I told him, hoping he didn’t notice that my nose was starting to grow. The reality was, 7 days into script, and I was still on page 1. My moment of truth had finally arrived, and I was paralyzed by self-doubt and an overwhelming fear of failure.
“I hope I can do this,” I remember muttering. “I’ve never really written anything before.”
Sensing my apprehension, Greer quietly put his arm around me, smiled reassuringly and replied “Neither did Shakespeare…until the first time.”