The 'Stuff To Do' pile

My extensive research for the Writers' Academy is underway. This will mean watching and analysing all the shows, and I also plan to follow up my successful spec script exercise writing a modern Doctor Who episode, with a similar exercise for the show Doctors. Plus the day job, and some other writing bits and bobs (see below). And, you know, eating and sleep. So, posts might become a bit sporadic around here for a bit; because of this, I am doing a catch-all update of what I've got on the go, which will hopefully serve until I can next give the blog some TLC.

'Santa Baby', the Christmas TV project I'm working on with Colin Stevens of Deep End Films, is at the treatment stage; Colin is preparing some notes right now, after which there will no doubt be a new draft.

'Life Support' has just been reworked (it was the example script I sent with my Academy application). There were still a couple of flashback sequences sticking to the previous draft like barnacles, but I've scraped them off, and now it's pretty much the straight narrative I set out to write initially (though it took me a very circular route to get there).

Following the lead of the mighty Stack, I am seriously considering a self-produced short film. I have a short screenplay called 'The Last Intake' that, once it's had a polish, needs to be made and seen. This will definitely be something for the Autumn, but I shall be considering the logistics and doing that polish sooner than that. I'll also be thoroughly digesting the recent filming diaries of both Danny and Dan Turner to get some tips.

Plus, as most of the stuff I've been working on lately has been straight drama, I'm doing the first draft of a genre feature script, working title 'The Late Shift': no fuss, no over-thinking, just adding to it whenever I get a spare moment on a commuter train: getting it written rather than getting it right. And having fun. I outlined it a long time ago, and have been looking for a chance to get it drafted ever since. I've so far done 5 pages, and reading them back is definitely making me laugh. Shame about that, really, as it's a horror script. (I'm pulling your leg, it's actually a comedy horror and is supposed to make you laugh. Tee hee.)

Finally, if I get a moment between all that lot, this competition that Laura has posted about is very tempting too.

The Continuing Drama

As the world and her husband will already know - the BBC Writers' Academy 2009 is open for submissions. It's a great opportunity, and the eight places per year are hotly contested; but, it's only open to those who have previously been paid for their work (full details of entry requirements, as well as much other useful info, is available via the BBC Writers' Room blog).

The way it works as I understand it (and these things could well be liable to change, so don't take my word for it) is thus: to enter, one needs to provide evidence of a professional commission, a sample screenplay as an example of one's work, and a completed application form (which includes a few '500 words or less questions' to answer just like any other big corporation's application forms). A long-list of applicants is invited to a second round of workshop-style interviews, then a shortlist is invited back for a more traditional interview, before the final eight are chosen.

No one outside the Academy knows quite which criteria are used to judge. No doubt it's important to perform well on an application form and in an interview. But, like any other big corporation's application process, there may well be people more 'in the frame' than others because of their progress in writing (for any medium) to date. All those submissions have got to be set against one's track record. So: 'write well and get noticed' would seem to be the best advice. Which is useful, as it's the same advice required to get any other screenwriting gig, not just the Academy.

I've been doing my best to write well and get noticed, as ever, but I'm not exactly holding my breath this year. My work is good enough, but I don't feel I've proved myself sufficiently in 'der industry' yet. Having got peer feedback on my TV drama pilot script 'Life Support' recently, I'm now reworking it for possible use as a sample script for the Academy. But I'm still undecided about whether to enter or not, even now with the deadline fast approaching (May 5th is the final date for submissions).

I'm lucky/unlucky enough to have a day job that pays well; all things being okay, there will be a new member of the Perry family arriving just before the Academy starts in September; and, there's a worldwide recession. It may not be the best time to be taking up a trainee position which then leads to work by commission (and that's what it is: a job, a fantastic job, but a job nonetheless and it should be considered as such). Yes, I am suffering the usual permie person's anxiety/wish fulfillment fantasy about going freelance. I probably wouldn't get it, but I don't want to get it and then have to turn it down.

Now, most people are probably wondering why I'm worrying about this stuff now. And they are probably thinking 'Nothing ventured...' and 'It doesn't cost anything to enter'. But this is not true, alas. It costs you time. To be prepared for the Academy, a person needs to be watching all those shows. Now, that's 375 minutes per week as as starter, and it's not passive viewing, it's study: working out the format, the structure, the character arcs, what's happening, what's not happening, and why. Getting hold of scripts and series bibles would also be useful, if you can.

On top of that, there's anything else you might be wanting to watch on TV that helps put the Continuing Drama shows into context (it's probably good to have a wide and current experience of other BBC drama productions, and continuing dramas on other channels minimum). Then, there's reading the trades to keep up with industry goings-on, and doing your own writing to hone your talents and get towards that magic 10,000 hours. Then there's the day job, if you have one, and the family commitments you might have. And – you know – eating and sleep, and all those other things that fill up the day. It is a killing schedule. I know – I've done it twice now in 2007 and 2008, and neither time did I feel I'd done it justice.

So, it's not exactly free to enter. But all that research will undoubtedly make you a better writer, so it's never wasted. But maybe there are better ways to use this knowledge, rather than going for the Academy. The training is of a very high standard, and you're paid to do it. But there are many other routes that other people have taken to get their work on TV. Of course, they're still open to you if you apply and don't get in. And there's no guarantee the academy will run indefinitely. This could be the last one, for all I know. As you can tell, I've gone back and forth about this one. I remain undecided for now.

For different takes on this subject, check out some of the screenwriters on my blog roll, who have gone through the selection process to different stages, and have written about it: Paul Campbell, Danny Stack, Michelle Lipton, Piers Beckley to name but four.

And - good luck!

Sixty Minutes

After multiple distractions working on other things, I finally completed the retooled version of the 'Life Support' pilot last week. All the fantasy sequences are gone, as are most of the flashbacks and voice over. I have set myself strict rules about how the 'story within a story' aspect works, and it no longer seems overdone. The first ten pages are tighter and get to the point quicker. All in all, I hope I've learned a bit from crashing-and-burning out of Red Planet at the first round. Whether it's a saleable commodity or not, only time will tell - it's very bleak and not very high concept, not the best combo in times of recession, so says Conventional Wisdom (but I prefer his brother Norman).

Talking of RP, I assume the word will be out soon as to who's got the glittering prize; good luck to those still in with a chance! I'm glad I did it - definitely a worthwhile exercise, and now I have a hard-earned pilot script for an hour-long drama series. Everybody wins. Interestingly – alright, semi-interestingly – a 60-minute script is harder than anything else I've tried to write, much harder than 10, 30, 45, 90 or 120. I don't see why this would necessarily be, but I've heard it from other writers too (so it must be true!). Now I know why Holby City has a musical montage at the beginning and the end of every episode!

Since completion of the script, I have done another half draft tidying things up, and the script is at exactly 60 pages, which is probably a little too long for a broadcast slot, so I'll review with a mind to cut two or three minutes of dead wood. Then, it will be ready for a good duffing up's worth of peer feedback before I rewrite it again. Hooray! Onwards and upwards...

New Year, New Meme

Happy New Year! I didn't expect to stay away from the blog for the full twelve days of Christmas, but it was a fantastic and furious time: lots of fun, lots of relatives visiting, lots of damn-the-recession fine food and wine, and my son (two and a half years old, so just this year getting what the season means) is still not sleeping properly at night because he is still so excited. I'm exhausted.

It's been mostly a holiday: I've nibbled at various pieces of script work over the last two weeks, but not chomped down hard on any one thing yet (this is a nice analogy isn't it?! Erk!). So, there hasn't been much to post about really. I've produced a whole five pages to reach 25 out of 60 on the Life Support pilot. So, I'm buckling down (or buckling under - whichever's good) to do a bit more before the big bad day job starts again on Monday (when, no doubt, my screenwriting effort will go up, but then I'm a contrary bugger, clearly).

Anyway, Piers has memed me with the 'what are you good and bad at' question: I'd say, from all the feedback so far that I'm better (I wouldn't claim to be good at anything necessarily) at characters and dialogue. I need to work harder on pitching my work, and on handling notes better in a rewrite. I won't pass the meme on, as I think everyone I know has already been passed it by someone else I know. Hello all of you people I know, by the way; you're looking well - is that top new?

P.S. A nice bit of luck - I was one of fifteen Shooters picked out of the hat for the Screenwriters' Festival launch party next Tuesday. Anyone else attending?

Winter Bits and Bobs

Not much to report from the last week: the day job, which you'd think would be winding down, is just getting busier. The last three working days before Christmas, and I'm working all of them, alas.

I took the decision a few months back to keep going to the wire, and shift all my days off into 2009. So, I'll be able to have a bit of a rest, watch 'The Next Doctor', and – if Santa brings what I'm keeping my fingers crossed for - I'll go to The Wire again, and enjoy the box set of Series 4, and maybe even Series 5 (I have been very good this year!!).

And I'll do some screenwriting work too, of course. I suppose being busy at the day job is a good sign recession-wise, and it's keeping me in pads and printer ink and netbooks and Wire box sets (you see - I'm already expecting to only receive socks and have to buy them for myself in the online Sales). But I'm looking forward to some days where I can get stuck in to some glorious writing.

I've finished a major restructure of the 'Life Support' pilot episode, and am now producing the pages afresh as a top-down rewrite. So far, I'm on page 20 of 60. I'll keep the blog updated with my progress, more to keep myself going over the holiday period than for any other reason.
I have mused and written and mused; and I've decided to follow up the BBC Writers' Room Invite Next with another feature script: I don't want to rush 'Life Support' out there before I've got some extensive feedback. I'll keep the blog updated with progress on that score too.

I recently spoke to another writer who questioned the value of sending material to the Writer's Room slush pile. I can see what he means to a certain extent, but I'm getting good responses from them, so I'm just going to keep sending material as long as they keep asking for it. Another resolution for next year, though, has to be to start sending some of my amassed spec material to agents and producers. Phew! That's enough to be getting on with...

Televisual Autopsy - Part 2

So, I was writing a 6 x 60 minute drama about people in an evening class, all trying to write their first novel. My aim was to produce something without any formal shenanigans or fantasy elements (good for the competition, and good for me). I liked the idea, and I was excited to be exploring it.

I spent most of my time for the next few weeks building up characters, their back-stories, how they interacted with the rest of the group, what their arc was going to be, and so on; but, I didn't write a word of screenplay. Perhaps I spent too long on this stage, given the constraints I was working to (although it's very useful material to have now I'm rewriting). A self-imposed deadline was approaching fast: I had to complete my first ten pages soon, as a number of writers, including myself, were taking part in a peer feedback exchange at the end of August.

Just before I started on the script proper, a thought occurred. The format of the show was that each episode concentrated on a single character - would it work if each episode covered roughly a week of their life, the week that their novel would be the focus of the group's attention, being read out and criticised by everyone else? And how about the theme of each character's novel in some way mirroring their main story? This tickled me. I had turned the idea of peer feedback into the structure of my Red Planet Competition entry. Mild worry: was I falling into the trap of making a post-modern joke of this work, already?

I decided not: if you're dealing with characters that are facing some sort of conflict or crisis (and of course I was), and these people are aspiring writers then whatever they are writing is going to – in some way – be affected by what's going on in their life. It was psychologically true enough for me to be satisfied, and it gave the work a Unique Selling Point – each week, a new character, a new story, a new book: nothing over the top, but the character writing the spy story is living a double life, the fantasy author is off in a world of their own, and so on. I was keen to have a USP, as I had remembered the Channel 4 Series The Book Group from a few years back, and wanted to make sure my pitch wasn't too similar.

Still, I didn't want to overdo the literary angle, or else I'd risk creating the over-structured style of story I was trying to avoid. So, I set a rule – you would hear the 'story within a story' occasionally, but only when a character was genuinely reading out a section. Sometimes it would carry on in voice over through the following scene to give an ironic juxtaposition. But nothing more – no fantasy sequences, no sections of adaptation, and no scenes of people at typewriters or computer keyboards if I could help it (that's always death).

My first ten pages and series outline were put together quite quickly, and sent off to a number of very knowledgeable and helpful people. I then carried on working on the remaining 50 pages, but they were basically in a very sketchy outline form at that point, when I was asking for my first ever feedback. So, this is probably where klaxons are sounding in your head. In a perfect world, I would never have sent out the first ten pages of anything, if I hadn't finished it, as things in those first ten pages were bound to change as I kept working. But it isn't a perfect world. And besides: I wanted some feedback on the premise at least. I wanted to see if people said “Is this too much like The Book Group?” as that was obviously a slight concern (no one did).

I got very good feedback and lots of potential notes from people who are out there making a living writing. As usual, I looked for any points that three or more people picked up on. There was one biggie: three people all said (I paraphrase): “Based on your outline, I thought there would be more of the literary genre stuff: fantasy sequences, that sort of thing – you should go for it”. I became very worried that I was being too tentative in my first draft, avoiding the main thrust of what I should have been doing, because it might upset a reader. But with 20:20 hindsight, I now see how I could easily address this threefold note:

Change the outline.

Get rid of the 'story within a story' from the outline as it's distorting people's expectations. But, I did not change the outline, I went against my initial instincts, and embarked on a rewrite of the script, dialling up the literary style and emphasising the ironic counterpoints between the lives the writers lived in reality, and the lives they lived in their prose. And - to be fair - it could have worked. But it was preventing me from doing what I should have been doing, which was finishing the next 50 pages and rewriting to make it more like the thing I set out to write. By the time I submitted them, the first ten pages had voice over, flashbacks, and fantasy sequences; this, as well as introducing my ensemble and setting up the first focus character's plot. I hadn't a chance in hell, frankly.

I still hadn't finished the remaining 50 pages to my satisfaction when I submitted to the competition. I really shouldn't have sent anything in at all, as I didn't have faith in the material. But it's easy to say that now. After submitting, as I kept on writing, I desperately wanted to fix things in those first 10 pages, but obviously I couldn't.

So, I didn't win a competition with material I wasn't happy with: in some ways, this has to be better than not winning with material I am happy with. Plus, I've learned (or relearned) some lessons. I shall publish them here, so I can look back in a year's time before I enter the Red Planet Comp 2009:

1. Keep hold of your project's core idea or ideas. Work out in your mind what you're okay to change, and what you'd fight like hell to keep. Don't be inflexible, but don't let the rewriting process tear your idea part either.
2. Don't get seduced by a new direction if it takes you too far from that core idea.
3. Try not to get feedback until you're finished.
4. Consider not sending something in to the competition at all if you aren't happy with it: hard, I know, but if you don't feel something's ready, chances are a reader won't either. And there will always be other opportunities.
5. Consider all notes carefully. Don't rush in to a rewrite: the most obvious way to solve something isn't always the best.

Televisual Autopsy - Part 1

There's a book by Douglas Hofstadter called Le Ton beau de Marot. It covers verse and verse translation, amongst other topics, and uses examples of poems written by Hofstadter himself (an academic, but hardly a poet) to illustrate the creative process. I remember the Poetry Review being very sniffy about this at the time of its publication: the level of detail gone into was, the reviewer felt, unseemly for poems which were previously unpublished and produced by not much more than a hobbyist. I suppose it was a fair enough point, as Hofstadter was probably more surprised at some of the mysteries of the writing process he uncovered than his readership were likely to be, given that they were inevitably poets and writers themselves, and would be engaging in that process every day, for their jobs and everything. It's still a good read though.

I preface today's post with the above tale, because I am aware that it might seem odd to go into detail about a work of mine that has proved a bit of a failure. But I am going to go ahead anyway, and explain what I felt went wrong with my Red Planet script, Life Support. I hope this is useful as an example of things it's probably best not to do. If I'm teaching you all to suck eggs, please forgive me: mine is a cautionary tale, that - no matter how many times one's been told the pitfalls - it's still easy to come a cropper. To put in context exactly how this came to be, I need to talk about the genesis of the idea.

And just in case this seems like me self-administering a public whipping, let me reiterate: I'm not giving up writing. Danny's latest post in his wonderful sequence on professionalism says it all: you have to deal with rejection, and learn from it. Read on for what I've learned this time...

The Red Planet competition was launched at this year's Screenwriters' Festival, and I started working immediately. In a rare quiet moment later that day, I sat on my own and started a mental inventory of possible ideas, but I didn't like any of them. I knew I wanted to do something naturalistic and straight. There were many reasons for this: partially it was inspired by The Wire's brilliant wonderfulness, but mainly it was because most of the longer example scripts in my portfolio have some fantasy elements, or voice overs, or tricksy structures. I was getting a bit tired of that kind of stuff and wanted to do something purer. Plus, all those things can put off a reader unless they're done really, really well.

I also knew I wanted to do a series in a character anthology style (i.e. the genre with no name). I like those kind of shows, and - as this was the first TV drama series I was to write - I thought it might be a more gentle learning curve to start with a structure that allowed me to write six mini-movies, one for each of my characters. I also thought it was a good thing to concentrate most of my time on creating the ensemble and let the plots arise from their characters. After watching all the BBC continuing dramas for so long, I'd firmly decided that characters, and in particular regular characters, are all. A good guest plot is a bonus, but people tune in to watch people, people they know and love.

I needed a linking device to bring my characters together. The idea finally came from one of the speakers at the Festival. There had been an infamous session with a life coach (she of the 'Baby steps, baby steps...' comment). I was musing on this afterwards, and it tickled me to think of what happens to you if you're going through life coaching, and your coach dies. Bing! Light bulb moment.

I still had problems to solve, though: was this a realistic precinct to get my characters together? This was important, as I was going to explode the precinct in episode one, by killing off the mentor character, and then explore whether the group dynamic could come back together and function again. So, it needed it to be a solid and realistic group to begin with; but, life coaching is usually a 1-on-1 activity. Though I did check, and you can get evening classes where groups go through something like life coaching, I didn't know if an audience would buy that.

Did it have to be life coaching? Surely any evening class would become some kind of support group after everyone's been going there for a while. How about a writing group? Write what you know, and all that. It gave me wonderful opportunities for conflict - in life coaching each person's goals would be different, so there would be no real room for jealousy at that level; it would be hard to dramatise 'you're getting yourself together faster than I am' but 'you've got published and I haven't' - everyone can understand that.

This was something I was wary of, though: some readers and script consultants will advise against anything that involves writers or writing: too in-jokey and incestuous. But, as I was avoiding screenwriting and concentrating on wannabe novelists (most of the general public don't think they have a screenplay in them, in fact they probably think the actors and director make it up as they're going along), and as I was working hard to make a distinct group of characters (different ages, different goals, inner and outer, i.e. it wasn't just going to be a bunch of arty twenty something media types), I thought I could get it to work.

In fact, this is the one thing that I'm not attempting to change in my rewrites - I like the novel writing class idea. It may well prove that it's a hard sell, and might not have been the best choice for a competition entry, but I'm sticking with it. Besides, the script had greater problems than that. I'd already sown the seeds of my own destruction (okay, okay, really I'd only sown the seeds for not getting into one competition and having to do a major rewrite - but that doesn't sound so good).

Next: how really really not to deal with peer review feedback...

Stock Taken

Well, I have to keep being a scriptwriter to a bit longer. Firstly, because otherwise Jason Arnopp will burn me and Phill Barron will kick me in the nuts; but also, I'll have to keep going until at least October now, 'cos they've changed the dates on next year's Screenwriting Festival. See Martin's blog for a summary. A festival? In a ladies' college? I can't miss that.

Some of my regular correspondents have taken slight exception to my last post. Yes - it was a bit of a vent; for that, everyone has my apologies. But I stand by the thrust of it: there's no point in immediately believing that the work just wasn't right for the reader or the competition. You've got to review the script entered, pull it apart and see if it's as good as it can be, even if this autopsy can be pretty depressing and make you feel like you should give up. And the honest-to-goodness reaction to not getting through in a competition is that it hurts like hell, and I wouldn't be a truthful writer if I pretended otherwise.

In this case, I know the sensibilities of a good few of the authors, and was privileged enough to see a few of the entries at points in their development before being submitted: I know that the subject matter and overall tone of what got through was very varied, and not a million miles away from the stuff I'm doing. So, what more can I have done? It may be nothing. Perhaps I was trying to do too much. Or too little. It may well be that the style I'm going for (white collar versions of Raymond Carver short stories but with more jokes, and on telly) isn't really suited to the schedules of today. Or it could be the kind of thing that's being done too much already. Or maybe it was just a rubbish idea.


Anyway, I'm not giving up, so I've been doing a few things over the last couple of days to make me feel more like a writer, to whit:

• Analysing new dramas: just caught up with the first two episodes of Survivors. Quick capsule review (warning: very light spoilers): I'm liking it, after a questionable first half an hour where the build up to the apocalypse was a bit slow, and the logic of the contagion/poison was undermined - if it takes a different length of time for different people to die, why did everyone on the final day die overnight, no matter what their symptoms were like before? This is a dramatic virus, methinks. I shall catch up with Wallander tomorrow, and The Devil's Whore soon-ish.
• Reading 'How to Guides' on writing: the Guardian gave lots of pamphlets away a month ago, on writing lots of different things: comedy, journalism, etc. and someone kept them for me. They make interesting reading. I'm saving 'Plays and Screenplays' until last. Yes - that's right: they're both covered together in one pamphlet. Like they're the same. Twelve pages to cover comedy was ambitious, but six to cover screenplays is just insulting. I'm looking forward to violently disagreeing with it, already.
• Writing: I'm doing a big rewrite on the Life Support pilot. This isn't a kneejerk reaction to its not being selected. I think the idea has merit, but I've made a few mistakes which I want to rectify. I'll try to share some of that process over the next few posts, as - who knows - it might be useful.

Nobody on their deathbed ever regrets not spending more time at work

Worry not, Phill – I'm still alive! But my computer isn't quite yet. After getting a new desktop to replace my ever malfunctioning old one, I was in the middle of rebuilding it from various back ups and other sources . This took quite a while, and some things are possibly lost for good. I had to type the pilot episode script for my Red Planet entry in from scratch, copying from a paper copy, because the last time I backed things up, I'd hardly started it.

It was quite amusing: after having desperately searched every scrap of paper in my office, finally finding my activation key code, then chatting to a Final Draft support techie in the U.S. using some rather nifty InstantService web-chat instant messenger doodad, and getting the software un-registered from the broken down PC, and re-registered to my new one, I then copied the backup files from my portable hard drive, and – trembling,and with bated breath – clicked to open the file marked 'Life Support – Episode 1' . This is the extent of what I'd written before backing up:

INT.


That was it. Thank the Great God Aethismo I'd printed it out, that's all I can say. Except to add: if anyone who gave me notes has still got a copy of my one page series outline, could they send it to me, please? Don't seem to have that at all, any more. Do regular backups, ladies an gentlemen: learn from my stupidity.

Anyway, I was in the middle of rebuilding the computer when my monitor stopped working. I couldn't afford to replace it until pay day (this Friday just gone – it arrived today) and before that I was making do, using my old RGB projector hooked up to the PC and blasting the screen image all over one wall of the room – it's hard on the eyes (and the screenwriting process: see your script's faults writ large!), so progress has been slow.

I had the natty new netbook too, of course; but, enter another thief of my time: the day job. Don't get the wrong idea - I love my day job. But this time of year is always frantic and fraught. I work as a project manager for a team designing web sites and web applications. It's work I like, and I always find that the writing I do is better when I have a stable and enjoyable job of work to pay the bills; so, it contributes to my proper job too.

And, despite working for a financial institution, my day job seems for now to be unaffected by the credit crunch - fingers crossed. Certainly there's a lot of work coming in for the team. Too much. The problem is that big institutions, even in the web technology area, err on the side of caution (except, obviously in the area of mortgage lending, but let's not go there) and a change freeze operates throughout December when I can't put any websites live.

So, the year end rush of projects happens in November as people use up their budget, instead of in December when people want to be on holiday. It's nice in a way. But it means that round about now I'm horribly busy. It was the same last year too – I had a working computer then, but I was also writing a feature; I seem to remember a November of the comments section bursting with chides for my not posting enough. Plus ca change.

Anyway, all is fixed up now, and by the end of Friday the day job will have settled down too. Expect more blather here then.

A post a day...

As I am often criticised (in a friendly manner, mind) by my blog-o-peers for the somewhat sporadic nature of my posting, I set myself a challenge recently to do a week straight of daily posts, without skimping too much on content. Hooray! I managed it. Well, you can make up your own mind about the content: without days and weeks to ponder, I do tend to rant on occasion, apologies for that.

The interesting thing about this is that I have done more and more focused writing during the week I was strenuously blogging than I have for a while previously. It might well be coincidence, or something to do with having a birthday, but I seem to have upped my game a little. Does this mean that I can't use being busy as an excuse anymore? Well, no...

As I'm doing a script report on two Red Planet entries, brainstorming some ideas for 'Santa Baby' and continuing my work on 'Life Support' I am going to revert to posting every couple of days. But please feel free to drive by and blog-o-insult me if it all gets too quiet round here again.

Bits and Bobs

Yesterday: I completed the first 10 pages of the pilot script and one page outline for 'Life Support' according to deadline. The writers' group will now provide feedback on each others work: one person facilitates, by randomly selecting which scripts go to whom. So, I will have one or two sets of feedback to do this week, and will get one or two sets of feedback on my own work in return. I'm looking forward to trying this approach - it might not be as comprehensive as Power of Three, but it is probably more applicable at times where everyone in the scribosphere is maxed out working to the same competition deadline.

Today: Had a meeting with Colin Stevens of Green Steven Films, where we signed the option contract for my screenplay 'Santa Baby'. Lovely! Great discussions were had about possible additions, which I'm going to brainstorm over the next two weeks. This is a short live-action project that has got good responses from everyone who's seen it, and Colin and I think it has great potential to be a seasonal TV offering. Here's hopin'. And do watch this space - I'm looking forward to keeping the blog updated about this one.

Tomorrow: I'm sending off another script to the BBC Writers' Room, which I'm printing tonight. I'm trying to get three or four pieces to them per year, depending on quality and suitability of what I have to submit. This should hopefully keep my name in the frame without constituting a bombardment. 

That's all for the mo'. Hope everyone is having a productive time right now. Hey - when did it get to be September?

Room Meme

About seventy-four years ago, Sir Jason of Arnopp he done memed me, to post a picture of my work area. Now my computer is all fixed, I can post it. Some points of note:

1) Creative mess = genius.

2) Hint of further large number of DVDs just out of shot gives an inkling of exactly how much money I've wasted over the years.

3) Ergonomic desk and seating desperately required (all donations welcome).

4) Lack of impressive board on the wall adorned with many Post-It note plot points. I was going to prepare one for the photo, but I was too busy writing.

5) That's "Life Support" on that screen there, that is.

6) My valiant attempt at redecorating my study has stalled at the 'strip wallpaper' stage, and proceeded no further. We moved at the end of November 2007.  There's no excuse...

Life Support Progress Report, and sad news

I'm surprised at how very energised I'm feeling to be working on a TV project. Maybe this is vindication for my decision to concentrate on non-film work from now on, or maybe it's just the freedom of working just for myself (for now) on spec work; whatever it is, I'm enjoying myself.

Progress so far: my computer is fixed, I've developed lots of background material on characters and world, and I've plotted out my pilot episode.  So, finally, I get to do what I've been putting off, and start producing some pages.  Sitting down and writing a draft can be fun, as Jason and Danny have posted about, most informatively and entertainingly, recently.

And, as part of a writing challenge with a group of other writers, I'm going to complete the first ten pages (and one page series outline) by the end of August, and get feedback from the group, as well as give feedback on other people's scripts.  To be honest, it's probably a bit early for my script, but a challenge is a challenge; and all notes can be useful, one way or other.

ADDITIONAL: I've just read the very sad news that Geoffrey Perkins has died in a car accident at a ridiculously young age.  I'd never met him, but his name was on the credits on pretty much every comedy programme that meant anything to me in my youth. A terrible shock.

Character Options

I'm doing something in the development of 'Life Support' that I've never done before: I'm casting it. I don't mean that I'm organising a table read (although, thinking about it, that's a bloody good idea). No, I'm putting an actor to each of the regular characters in my head. 

I know I'm late to this party, and everyone probably already does this: with feature scripts, I've often been asked 'Who do you see playing this part?' and I've never before been able to answer definitively. But now, if asked, I could tell you my whole cast.

I haven't cheated either: I've refrained from using Hollywood A-listers, or casting myself, or anyone dead or otherwise unavailable. It's a plausible ensemble, with one role written for a non-famous actor friend, and the rest going to TV actors of whom I'm fond. One cameo has been written with a legend in mind. But it's only a day or two's of filming, and a vital and interesting role, so it didn't stretch the bounds of the possible.

Of course, when it gets made (well, why not?) I will probably not be consulted that much, and even if I were, I wouldn't get my dream cast. For this reason, I'll be superstitious and not name names. 

It has certainly proved a very useful exercise in helping me to find a unique voice for each of my characters, and I've tried to avoid the obvious pitfall of limiting any creative choices based on whom I've got in mind. But anything that concentrates on character, to my mind, can't be going too far wrong.

This thing I'm writing... what the hell is it, exactly?

I'm glad to end the radio silence of the last week or two; there was a good reason for it - I was hard at work on my series pilot, which I'm planning to enter into the Red Planet competition. In fact, I don't know why I'm being so coy about it: it's called Life Support, it's a 6 x 60 minute contemporary drama TV series and it's one of those thingummy types of one that there isn't a proper term for, or at least not one I know.

I recently met up with a bunch of writers and bloggers for a few drinks in that London. I canvassed opinions then, and no one there could think of a convincing moniker either. This is my personal view on how the categories break down:

Soap (Coronation Street, Eastenders, Emmerdale) - in it's purest form a soap opera has a group of characters, each of whom will take the protagonist role in a running plot line, several of which will be running at one time, overlapping, and they'll never all end at the same time. Programme runs till it gets canned (and if they see it coming far enough in advance there might be closure, like Brookside or Eldorado managed). There are no guest protagonists coming in for one or more episodes. Corrie occasionally doles out guest roles for multiple episodes (e.g. Ian McKellan's stint) but they won't be protagonist of a plot in the same way as the guest(s) of the week in a Casualty episode.

Precinct drama (Holby City, Casualty, The Bill in most of its incarnations) - has running soap plots for its main cast ongoing, but also has guest protagonists coming in for an episode or more. These guest plots might well reflect on or complicate a main character's ongoing soap plot. Can be running all year round, or can run in series with breaks, like Heartbeat for example.

Drama series (Bonekickers, Ashes to Ashes, Doctor Who) - do often tell one loose story over a series, or one story over all their series, but each episode stands on its own merit, more or less. Might have guest protagonists, but will definitely have one or more regular main characters. Obviously it's a broad spectrum - some series' episodes will be more self-contained than others.

Series where one year's run equals a serial (The Wire, 24) - special case of the above, quite popular nowadays. Each episode of a series can't be taken on it's own, but there's closure for some plots every year, and something of a jumping on point at the beginning of any new series. Some UK drama series are experimenting with this form for their latest runs (Torchwood, Spooks).

Anthology Series (Tales of the Unexpected, The Twilight Zone) - Diametrically opposite to a soap, I suppose. No running protagonist, new guest plot every week. Not that fashionable on British television at the moment. Unless I've forgotten a really obvious example, which I might well have done. I'll kick msyelf, I'm telling you...

Drama serials (Criminal Justice, Burn Up). One off multi-episode dramas. Could be multi-protagonist, but is the most likely of any of these to be single protagonist, as they are generally shorter and more focused.

Telenovella (the original Ugly Betty) - a long serial with soap style plots for its protagonists, but it eventually will come to a definite end.

But what I'm writing isn't exactly any of these. It's another type of beast, something like The Street, currently, or historically Boys from The Blackstuff as well as many others. It's a series of linked, sole protagonist episodes, based around a connected group of people, one of whom is centre-stage each week. The leads of other episodes might be in the other stories, substantially, or as walk-ons, or not there at all (in Life Support, I've taken the decision that they will all appear in every episode, the continuation of their individual plots still hinted at in the background.)

So, what I'm writing isn't totally unprecedented (phew! I'd be worried if it were) but what's it called? Is there an industry or academic standard term? The best the London Meet could come up with is Character Anthology, but that doesn't encapsulate the connectedness of the protagonists. And does it really matter? Suggestions to the usual address.