The Reality of Writing for Television: Scripts Are Kinda Important
I was graciously invited to write this blog for IFP and was told I should focus on my experience of writing for television. I was actually asked to write about writing. What a fantastic idea! So I gladly accepted. One problem. I forgot that I’d actually have to sit down and write it.
I can only approach this piece on a personal level and bring my own experience to it. I don’t know how else to do it. That said:
Writing is brutal. You may be one of those fortunate few who set your alarm for 3:30 in the morning so you can make sure it’s still dark outside as you hop, skip and jump to the blank page. I’m not that guy.
I find writing to be hard. You often hear how writers always start with that blank page and create something from nothing and if everyone thinks it’s so easy, let them do it. Whoever “these people” are, they’re right. The blank page staring back at you from your computer screen can be crushing. And to make the matter even more challenging, you are seldom writing for just yourself. You are writing for a ton of people. Network, Studio, Producers, Department Heads, Casting, Crew and Actors. And if you’re not careful, that can be a trap because you might find yourself second guessing yourself. “What will he think?” “What will they think?” “This one usually hates whenever someone is physically ill, so instead of pneumonia, I’ll have them go water skiing instead.”
My best work has always been when I was writing for myself. I created a show called Huff and it was on spec. (Speculative, as in for free.) I wrote it in Hawaii while on hiatus from another show, and sat on the floor in my boxers having a great time. I wrote it in three weeks. There was one scene I remember, which was two thirteen year old boys having a sleepover in a tent in the back yard. We cut into the scene to discover these two kids frantically masturbating in their sleeping bags. And when I finished writing it I literally laughed out loud and said “Like this will ever get shot!” Thank you Showtime. It got shot.
Showtime's "Huff"
The point of the story is I wasn’t writing for anybody but myself, because I never expected it to really go forward. It was just a spec. And I had to remind myself as I wrote, that I didn’t have to answer to anybody. To find that balance and freedom as a writer for a television show that’s on the air, takes an odd discipline and creative mind.
And, yes. The blank page on a laptop can be daunting, especially when there’s a little icon at the bottom of the screen that is a direct connect to the Internet. I did a lot of writing for that show. After finishing every scene I’d reward myself by signing onto Ebay and bidding on a piece of glass. Near the end of the first season, I had an office riddled with over a hundred red glass vases. I bid high. There were a lot of scenes.
One of the issues that I was asked to discuss are the day to day realities of working in television. Let’s get one thing straight from the very beginning. There is no “reality” in writing for television. And if I were to give a complete answer addressing the day to day realities of television we’d be here for days. I would also probably never get hired again.
However, I used this opportunity to click the Internet icon and go to dictionary.com. There, I hoped, I would find a definition of “reality” that would somehow trigger a response. Oddly enough I was taken first to drugstore.com/realities which hammered home the message of “free shipping” and then I was taken to freeforclosureslistings.com which boasted listings of properties that “must sell.”
And I realized that this is actually the reality of television. First, it must sell or you don’t have a job. And once it sells, it has to ship fast since there are always three scripts in the works all at the same time. One in prep, one shooting and one in post. Production devours scripts.
So I guess the first reality of television is you will be working approximately 480 hour weeks. You arrive at the office, sometimes before dawn, and you go home when it’s dark. It’s possible to even forget your dog’s name. So a major reality is you have no time. If you don’t have scripts, you don’t have a show. Period. That’s the major reality of television. You need scripts. There are a hundred and fifty people waiting for them every week, and that’s not counting the network and studio. If you don’t have scripts, someone will die. And you don’t want it to be you. So make your deadline.