It’s official. I’ve begun. After a year of false starts and fun, excursionary tangents into scripts and stories that, while interesting, were not engaging me, I finally landed on something I like. My agent has been hammering me for new material. New material is essential in this business to entice the powers-that-be; PTB that keep changing jobs and positions, falling in and out of networks and studios. So, going public here, I’ve got 8 weeks to get this new piece finished and shipped. Onward. Keep you posted.
Warehouse 13 writer Bob Goodman has written a fantastic essay on the discovery process he discovered working on a hit TV show. It’s about writing and working and fun and imagination and why this job is great. So of course the Writers’ Guild magazine Written By rejected it for publication. io9’s gain. See you at the office, Bob. And, to get even more Warehousey, check out Saul Rubinek’s (our Artie) video interview.
The Unofficial Apple Weblog links to some insanely great promotional footage regarding the original Macintosh. I’m misty-eyed. A big thank-you to Greg Pruss for introducing me to his Mac Plus in 1988.
I couldn’t have been more than 12 or 13 when I found a copy of Joseph Wambaugh’s novel, The New Centurions, on my mom’s nightstand. Read it. Then saw the movie with George C. Scott and Stacey Keach. Loved it. More than anything, I was intrigued with Joseph Wambaugh. His cop tales were so much more than what Jack Webb was turning out. Wambaugh’s stuff was sexy and violent and for a kid in the midwest growing tired of “Just the facts, ma’am,” Wambaugh’s cops were the perfect antidote. David Gerber brought it to our living room. Cool.
Via CNET. Stephen Colbert, the comedian, political satirist, and host of Comedy Central's "Colbert Report," is funny on his show. The animated characters on "South Park," created by Matt Stone and Trey Parker, are hilarious.
But will they be as witty on the witness stand?
Colbert was recently questioned by Google attorneys during a legal deposition as part of Viacom's $1 billion copyright lawsuit against Google and YouTube.
Stop. Give it away. We’ll want it more. Lesson #1 from The Wire’s drug dealers.
For the last few days I’ve been slogging away at my first script for the second season of Warehouse 13. The first outline submitted to the network was justifiably returned stamped “Bullshit.” It was a clunky tale of weather gone mad. I’d been saddled with the truth of Toronto’s weather in March (snowy -- when the episode is slated to be shot). Knowing that, writing an episode about, well, snow, seemed... production friendly. And that’s about it. Thankfully, network heads prevailed and booted the yarn into the dumpster. A forced rethink resulted in a story I’m excited about. It’s got hardware, a mad genius (whom you’ve already met, sort of), and my love of tv and old movies amply represented. Enough said. Wait. One more thing. As an homage to a unique individual and a fortunate time in my life, the episode is called “Beyond Our Control.” And, just because I’m procrastinating (and yet feeling like I’ve earned it) I’m employing The Pomodoro Technique. 25 minutes on. 5 minutes off. Getting things done. Page by page. You should look into it.
Back to work. I’ve got Pete and Myka in a jam and I’m eager to see how they’re getting out of it.
Wait. What? People are watching TV shows on the internet? Who knew?
The Nielsen Company said Tuesday that its television measurement homes would soon be Internet measurement homes too, bringing the company a step closer toward providing the integrated ratings that media companies are demanding.
Every chance I get I look for some neat new way to help me get my work done in a timely manner. This is how I procrastinate yet feel like I'm actually doing something worthwhile. Well, this is my latest effort. It requires a cooking timer and the freedom to enjoy recess. I'll let you know how it's going.
I was the second female writer ever hired at Late Night. When I applied for the job in 1988, I had no way of knowing how much the odds were stacked against me. In 27 years, Late Night and Late Show have hired only seven female writers. These seven women have spent a total of 17 years on staff combined. By extrapolation, male writers have racked up a collective 378 years writing jokes for Dave (based on an average writing room of 14 men, the size of the current Late Show staff).
NPR's On the Media is a terrific weekly distillation of how the world was interpreted (with some snarky, wise-acre attitude) by our various news orgs. Recently, they devoted their hour to the trials of the music industry. In short order I expect a radio doc on the history-repeating-itself (or not) tribulations of the network TV biz. Here's the first 12 minutes of "The Future of the Music Industry." You can hear the whole thing from their site for free or via iTunes, also free.
A few years ago I was employed as a writer working on several Fox Network TV shows. Even then, while the paycheck was nice, I had some qualms about working for an organization whose news division was so... well, idiotic. And dangerous. Now Newsweek's Jacob Weisberg has a few thoughts.
That Rupert Murdoch may tilt the news rightward more for commercial than ideological reasons is beside the point. What matters is the way that Fox's model has invaded the bloodstream of the American media. By showing that ideologically distorted news can drive ratings, Ailes has provoked his rivals at CNN and MSNBC to develop a variety of populist and ideological takes on the news. In this way, Fox hasn't just corrupted its own coverage. Its example has made all of cable news unpleasant and unreliable.
My next job offer from Fox, if there is one, will be met with some serious consideration.
And weepy Glenn Beck has begun to exhibit a Strangelovean concern about government invading our bloodstream by vaccinating people for swine flu. With this misinformation campaign, Fox stands to become the first network to actively try to kill its viewers.
The Warehouse 13 writers' room is slated to start up on November 2. In addition to many of our returning Season One staff (Jack Kenny, me, Drew Greenberg, Bob Goodman, Deric Hughes, Ben Raab, Tamara Becher) we have some new faces at the table. Mike Fox and Ian Stokes (last season's script coordinator and writers' assistant) have joined the ranks. Also on board are Andrew Kriesberg and Nell Scovell. It's a great group. The goal is to get as many scripts written as possible before production starts (in Toronto) in early spring. We're trying to avoid the snow. And the cold. And the snow. Did I mention the snow?
We've got a lot of story threads to address and, just like you, we've got plenty of ideas toward ramping things up, keeping things fun and thrilling. We've have spent the hiatus chilling, digging into artifact research and ruminating on Pete, Myka, Artie, Leena, Claudia, Mrs. Frederic and MacPherson. They're a great, dysfunctional family full of hopes, secrets, lies, loyalties and betrayals. Can't wait to dig in.
And if anybody's noticed (probably not) I took myself off Facebook and Twitter. Both venues were weighing on me. Keeping up, keeping clever and keeping my mouth shut was just too difficult. Apparently, I'm in good company: Miley Cyrus also canned Twitter.
Eighteen months ago my wife was pregnant with twins. I wasn’t working. Well, not “working” working but there was a lot of baby-prep going on. Dan Myrick, a good friend, approached me with an idea for a movie. We kicked it around some and, since I had a little time before the baby shoes dropped, I wrote it. He produced it. Ben Rock directed it. Julia Fair did a terrific production rewrite when the twins arrived and I was pulled into two wonderful other directions. Here’s the trailer for ALIEN RAIDERS.
Strange, this writer’s life. The only time I feel like I’m actually writing for television is when I’m on the set, the scene to be shot sucks, bad dialog is actually rearranging the actors’ teeth it’s so clunky and we’re losing the light. Then, when I have to whip out the pencil I never seem to have (“Hey, who’s got a pencil?!”) and grab the back of an envelope to try and work out, untangle, cut and recreate the moment, the nut of the scene that worked so well three, five, ten months prior in a first written-in-the-heat-of-creation draft... where was I? Oh. Right. Short version: I like bad scenes because they give me something to do. They fill me with nostalgia for what might have been.
They’re like suddenly discovering you’re riding a tiger (that’s been gnawing your leg) when all along you thought you were on a horse and now, hey look, who’s got a tourniquet?! As much as I dread on-set rewrites I also welcome an actor coming to me and saying, “Um... huh?” Once I get past the “how dare they” moment it’s kind of interesting (see tiger). One of the best experiences I’ve had working with an actor was with Paul Blackthorne on THE DRESDEN FILES. Before each week’s work he would call me from Toronto (where the show was shot) and we would go through the script, page by page (and not just his scenes) working out the truth of the moments. Paul was always looking for a way to say less and mean more. What a blessing. I vomit words sometimes just to see if there are any bits of goodness worth the effort. If an actor can come along and keep me from puking by simply making my point with a smile, a look, an eye roll or a drop of the head then please, God, eye roll. Sometimes... well, most times great writing is not writing. Great writing is setting up a thought-circus then opening the gates and letting the audience in to wander at will. Actors are those midway barkers. But they’re not barking if they’re doing their jobs right. They’re winking or hooking a finger. “C’mere. Something to show you. No pressure.” You look. Without comment from the writer, actor or director. You simply see and the real circus happens in your head. Later, if the circus is revealed to be a little flat, someone will come along with the “perfect” score to shove you into phoney-emotionville or wow-wasn’t-that scaryland? But sometimes (see THE WIRE) the circus is perfect. I’ve yet to build the an even close-to-perfect circus but it’s great fun trying.
So, anyway, the vacuum thing. I’ve been working on a pilot for the Sci Fi Channel. WAREHOUSE 13. And this week, as the cut was being prepared for audience testing (yikes) I’ve been working on a story for a possible episode should the series get ordered. The story hits the beats promised in the pilot’s premise. Characters behave consistently (well, more consistently once the actors wrangle them). And, to toot the horn, I think it’s a pretty good yarn. But I dunno. I never know. For so long now I’ve let other people define what’s good and bad about my writing that I’ve sort of taken my ego out of it. Kind of have to to make a living doing this. Does it fit the container the network is trying to sell or doesn’t it? But for now this outline is finished and it’s been handed in for review and criticism. So it’s time to go get some fresh air.
My friend John McNamara emailed me a few weeks ago to give me the news. Julius Carry had died of pancreatic cancer. Julius was 56 years old. In the early 1990s I was five years beyond the one film I’d written and had produced. It was a lean time. Then I got a call that two producers, Carlton Cuse and Jeffrey Boam, were looking for a little help in scripting a western tv series for the then-fledgling Fox Broadcasting Network. Carlton and Jeffrey gave me the concept, the setting, and the names of the characters. Brisco County, Jr., Socrates Poole, John Bly and Lord Bowler. We worked out the story and I wrote the pilot. Fox approved and we made the series “The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr.” It was an adventure for me as well. It started my tv career. Working with Bruce Campbell was a trip. But working with Julius was something special. Julius was a big man. Intimidating at first glance. But the actor I knew was one of the funniest, kindest and quick-to-laugh men I’ve ever met. His character alongside Bruce’s Brisco was designed to be insecure, violent, sensitive, full of bluster, bravado, irrational fears and untapped courage. It was a tough thing to embody that character and to also be the comedy relief to Bruce’s deadpan (and very funny) straight man. But Julius did it terrifically well. Miss you, Bowler.
Suffer the musings, ramblings and occasional shameless self-promotion of a toiler in the screen trade.
I've been producing and writing for television since I was thirteen. Began getting paid for it at 28. I wrote about a babysitter's night on the town for Disney then shared some adventures with Brisco County, Jr. and Lois and Clark before heading off to work with three witches, aliens in Roswell, a Dark Angel, a vampire, a wizard and at a warehouse in South Dakota. For a bigger bio hit IMDB.com.