Nope, I'm not at this year's Screenwriters' Festival in Cheltenham. Wish I was, especially now the event's closer to the town centre, but commitments elsewhere precluded me attending. I've papers to mark for the creative writing MA, lectures to plan, a script to polish, and pitches to develop for Fantomen and Doctors. Instead of talking about writing, I'll actually be writing.
So, for all those people who wish they could be at SWF 09 but aren't, here's a behind the scenes peek at the long process by which I got my first TV drama screenwriting credit. Way back in 2002 I met a writer who was then a regular Doctors scribe. He encouraged me to try out for the medical drama series, promising to put a good word in for me with his script editor. Shame I wasn't ready.
I did have the good sense to watch the show, get to know the cast. Nailing the regulars is essentially on a continuing drama like Doctors. Stories of the day may be the show's bread and butter, but it's the trials and tribulations faced by the regulars that keep viewers coming back. Anyway, I made a classic blunder - I wrote a Doctors spec script and sent it in to Doctors for their consideration.
For a long time the spec script was a well worn path into US TV writing, but even there you never send a House spec script to the House script team. You send them a spec for another procedural show, to demonstrate you can write, plot and structure. [These days spec pilots are emerging as good calling cards across the Atlantic, but a good spec script still has its merits in the US system.]
Nobody wants to read a spec script for a UK show. You get invited to write a trial script, but that's a later stage in the process. First you have to impress somebody with your own, original writing. Sending a Doctors spec script to a Doctors script editor? Pure amateur hour. Unsurprisingly, it got ignored for months. But I was giving up on it, not just yet. [I'm nothing if not persistant.]
I schlepped all the way from Scotland to Leicester [not easily done in a day] for a 90-minute roadshow by the Doctors team. I introduced myself to the relevant script editor afterwards, and asked about my script. I even got the professional writer who'd first fired any interest to nag the poor script editor. Eventually, I got a response - a two line rejection letter. Not what I was hoping for.
I waited 48 hours, and phoned for more feedback. I needed more experience, come back when I'd got some. The script editor was absolutely right, but it wasn't easy to hear - especially when Doctors was [and still is, to some extent] to means by which many writers get their first experience of TV drama. If I couldn't write for Doctors, how was I supposed to get the necessary experience?
Fast forward to September 2007. I'd just finished my screenwriting MA, concentrating on TV drama. I'd also undertaken a clutch of courses to expand my skillset beyond what was taught on the course: TAPS script editing workshop; storylining for continuing drama workshop at the Script Factory; nine months being mentored by writer-director Adrian Mead; storylining workshop at the Emmerdale script department.
I'd also had a play broadcast by BBC Radio 4, a dozen audio dramas produced by Big Finish, numerous novels published and won an international screenwriting award for my short film script DANNY'S TOYS. In short, I'd gone away, got some experience and worked to improve my screenwriting craft skills. It was time for another letter to the same script editor at Doctors [fortunately, they were still there].
This time I knew better than to enclose a script. I simply asked for the chance to submit some of my original writing for consideration. The script editor replied, offering to pass this request down the food chain to an assistant - fine by me. I duly got an invitation to submit and sent in the script for my MA final project, FAMILIES AT WAR, along with a copy of DANNY'S TOYS.
They were well received and I was invited to write a trial script. The onset of Christmas meant my try-out got pushed to early 2008. [Patience and persistence are worth a lot, nothing happens quickly.] For the trial script I was given serial material from an old episode [not one I'd seen, as it happened, though I was watching the show faithfully in preparation for my trial script].
The serial contained the beats for my B and C stories, comprising about 30% of my script. My job was to blend that into a story of the day I'd invented, hopefully finding some resonance between them. For the Doctors trial script I was given ten calendar days from start to finish. Alas, none of my stockpiled A stories fit well with the supplied serial. Time to find another A story.
The trial script process is a great test of your ability to work fast and think faster. Normally each story of the day [SOTD] is developed over time. You get feedback from your script editor and it only gets to a commission if a series producer has approved it. Even then, you produce a scene by scene demonstrating how the SOTD works with supplied serial. On a trial, that's all down to you.
Despite having only ten days, I decided to follow the processes used to create a real episode. I choose my SOTD, researched the medical background and wrote it up into a two-page pitch. Next I worked on a scene by scene, integrating my SOTD with the serial material I'd been given. Only then did I dive into writing my trial script. I got that to a polished first draft, then sent it out for a quick read.
Feedback from fellow scribes helped smooth out a few lumps and bumps. One of my guest characters arrived too late in the script, but I couldn't find a good fix for that. The serial featured a regular whose voice I'd never managed to capture, but there was nothing I could do about. One final polish and off the finished script went. Happily, I didn't have to wait too long for an answer, maybe a week or three.
The news was good, my trial was enough to get a foot in the door. I'd earned the right to submit SOTD. But I was told in no uncertain terms this was just the beginning of a much longer journey. Getting an SOTD approved [a process known as being 'banked'] could take months, even years. There would be little or, more likely, no feedback on why pitches were rejected. Sheer weight of numbers precludes that.
[In a delicious irony, a newcomer at the script office BBC Scotland soap River City stumbled across FAMILIES AT WAR in their slushpile that same month. It had been submitted the previous September, around the same time I'd written to Doctor. The River City newcomer wrote me a rejection letter dissing my script. I wrote back with news of my successful Doctors trial. A nice moment.]
I started submitting SOTD pitches to Doctors, getting a few of them on the series producer's reading pile - but none were cutting the mustard. My handler in the script department took pity, getting me an invitation to the July 2008 Doctors mini-academy, a shadow scheme whereby eight writers spent five days in Birmingham learning how to better write for the show. This culminates in solo pitches.
There were no guarantees we would get a commission from these pitches, but it would help introduce us to the production team and might improve our chances in future. A golden opportunity, I was chuffed to bits. I resolved to have twelve brilliant ideas ready and select the best three for pitching. In the end I only managed nine before heading south to Birmingham, some stronger than others.
The mini-academy was a great experience, and a big boost for my confidence. Come the final morning I was pitching to the assistant who'd shepherded me through the system, the script editor who'd suffered my 2002 efforts and a producer. I pitched my best two ideas first, and got lots of positive comments. Feeling bullish, I pushed my luck with a third idea with the working title A PILL FOR EVERY ILL.
It was less developed than the others, needed more work done on it. As a consequence it got pulled apart, but there were some positive noises too. I decided to put that one on the back burner and concentrate on my two favourites. Once home, I rushed to submit full SOTD pitches for those two, confident at least one of them would hit the target. [The series producer had other ideas. Such is life.]
In September I submitted A PILL FOR EVERY ILL as a formal SOTD pitch. This featured tow regulars on the series clashing about how best to treat a patient, divided by their different medical ideologies - one old school, one more New Age. But cast changes had overtaken my pitch, the New Age character was leaving the show. Time for a rethink and a massive rewrite. Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.
Submitted a revised version of PILL in October 2008, swapping out one regular for another but keeping the essentials of my story intact. Still not quite there, more tweaks needed. The final version of my SOTD got added to the series producer's reading pile in November 2008. By this point my two favourites had been rejected and several other pitches were falling by the wayside.
Fast forward to February 2009: still no word on PILL, but more SOTD pitches get read and rejected. One year on from my successful trial, and I don't feel much closer to getting that elusive first pitch banked. Feeling a bit down, especially as others from the mini-academy are celebrating their first commissions. Tell myself patience and persistence will win the day - eventually.
June 2009: email from my champion inside the production office, who's now a fully fledged script editor. Good news, PILL has been banked. There's no guarantee that will lead to a full commission [and no money until that happens], but it's a step forward. My SOTD was on the reading pile for seven months, an indication of how much material the production team must wade through to fill 230 eps a year.
August 2009: get a phone call, PILL has been plucked from the story bank and paired with serial material for what will be Episode 199 of Doctors Series XI - am I up for writing a scene by scene? You bet. Do I mind shifting the action from one location to another? Not at all. Can I rewrite my SOTD so it's an entirely different doctor? Gulp! Yes, absolutely, of course I can. I've got a week to deliver.
This is it, the last stage at which I can fail and end up with nothing. I submit my effort a day earlier, and nervous waiting begins. I fully expect to asked for a rewrite of my scene by scene, the chances of nailing it first time - especially with so many changed elements from the original SOTD - seem remote. This is the moment of truth, where I could attain my first TV drama writing credit.
A week later I get my call, and the news is good. I've got to cut a fistful of scenes and there's plenty of nips and tucks to be made - but no need to revise my scene by scene. It's straight to script, a formal commission. Can I deliver my first draft within a week? I wheedle an extra day because I'll be spending the original deadline running a workshop at the Edinburgh International Book Festival.
But I didn't need that extra time, and deliver my first draft a day ahead of the original deadline. More anxious waiting. Lots of notes come back, but nothing major. Seems I've captured the regulars well, even two semi-regular characters who hadn't been cast yet. My response gets delayed as I'm away on a residential course for two days, but I still manage to deliver my second draft early.
Further drafts follow, honing and refining, but the bulk of my script remains exactly as it was in the original draft. I caught most of the target first time of asking, which makes everyones job that bit easier thereafter. Deliver my final draft before the end of September, by which point the director is about to start prep for the block of three eps that includes A PILL FOR EVERY ILL.
One month on and filming is complete. Post-production may already be underway. The end results of all that effort are due for broadcast on Wednesday, February 10th, 2010 - almost exactly two years on from my successful trial script. I was warned it could be a long journey to my first commission, and so it proved. Let's hope the journey to my second commission is a little less lengthy...
Monday, October 26, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Going on location with Doctors
It's been a madcap few weeks, and I can't see things slowing down for a while yet. Since this is one of my rare days at home without a screaming deadline [plenty of deadlines, just none of them screaming yet], thought I'd say hello and tell you what I've doing lately. Teaching, lots of teaching. Writing, plenty of that too. Polishing my submission for the Scotland Writes opportunity, especially.
But I spent the weekend away, most of it in That Fancy London. Had a reunion dinner with almost everyone from the Lighthouse TV drama team writing project, lovely to catch up and see how people are doing. Since we last met in April there's been a marriage in the ranks, and a new baby is imminent. Lots of writing, plenty of successes, more to come. Rest of weekend with friends, and saw Zombieland. Aces.
Sunday I headed into the Midlands and spent the night with Quakers. [They really are the friendliest of people.] Monday, I was on location watching filming for my first ever TV screenwriting commission. It's an episode of medical drama Doctors, due to be broadcast by BBC1 on Wednesday February 10, 2010. [Contract obligations preclude me telling you anything about the plot, especially serial elements.]
So what can I say? The day was spent shooting at two locations, both privately-owned homes. First thing was three scenes at a home in Bournville, the suburb built by Lord Cadbury for his workers. [Appropriately enough, the owner left out a massive bowl of chocolate buttons which were happily consumed by cast and crew. As a consequence this residence is nacknamed the Chocolate House.]
Two of the three scenes called for an infant actor, which creates it own problems. Doctors is shot on a tight, tight schedule. That means there isn't much time for the toddler to do what's needed, and infants don't always perform upon demand. Tricky! Having completed that sequence, it was into the vans and across the suburbs to another location. Two exteriors were needed, before heading indoors.
The first was an establishing shot, which looked beautiful. The second proved tougher, with dialogue, plus characters coming and going, all of which needed to be captured from different angles. Doctors doesn't have permission to shut down streets, so it can be at the mercy of passing pedestrians, planes flying overhead - and, especially, traffic. Challenging is not the word for it!
Despite all these factors, the final exterior for the day was completed before lunch. [Just as well, since a day that started beautiful turned grey after lunch with sheets of rain lashing past at times.] After a pub lunch, it was indoors for a plethora of scenes from my story of the day - and another infant actor. The wee mite was a star, but filming round a toddler is never straight forward.
I stayed till late afternoon, but had to leave before five. The cast and crew still had hours of week ahead of them, but were remaining remarkably good humoured. They made me very welcome and I managed to keep out of the way 99% of the time. Spending a day on set certainly gave me new found respect for how hard a throwaway sentence in a script can make life for those shooting your story.
So, what did I learn from my day on location with Doctors? Having one infant in your story is asking for trouble - having two is verging on sadism. It's not enough to think about your scene to scene transitions, you also need to think about transitions within each scene; how the balance of power shifts between characters, how the energy rises and falls, how to find the best endpoint.
Having been to plenty of recordings of my work, I wasn't surprised to hear my words sound very different when acted by professionals. I'd a fair idea how the regulars would say their lines, but the guest actors for my story of the day found new angles and corners I hadn't noticed in the script. Suspect I've lucked out with them. All in all, a fascinating glimpse behind the scenes for me.
The experience has left me more determined than ever to get more scripts commissioned. I've two pitches lurking in the big pile, waiting to be read, but nothing in the story bank. Need to get more proposals into the works. I've broken my duck, but now I need to prove that wasn't a fluke. One broadcast credit proves I've not a total novice, but it's credits two, three and four that show you're a professional.
But I spent the weekend away, most of it in That Fancy London. Had a reunion dinner with almost everyone from the Lighthouse TV drama team writing project, lovely to catch up and see how people are doing. Since we last met in April there's been a marriage in the ranks, and a new baby is imminent. Lots of writing, plenty of successes, more to come. Rest of weekend with friends, and saw Zombieland. Aces.
Sunday I headed into the Midlands and spent the night with Quakers. [They really are the friendliest of people.] Monday, I was on location watching filming for my first ever TV screenwriting commission. It's an episode of medical drama Doctors, due to be broadcast by BBC1 on Wednesday February 10, 2010. [Contract obligations preclude me telling you anything about the plot, especially serial elements.]
So what can I say? The day was spent shooting at two locations, both privately-owned homes. First thing was three scenes at a home in Bournville, the suburb built by Lord Cadbury for his workers. [Appropriately enough, the owner left out a massive bowl of chocolate buttons which were happily consumed by cast and crew. As a consequence this residence is nacknamed the Chocolate House.]
Two of the three scenes called for an infant actor, which creates it own problems. Doctors is shot on a tight, tight schedule. That means there isn't much time for the toddler to do what's needed, and infants don't always perform upon demand. Tricky! Having completed that sequence, it was into the vans and across the suburbs to another location. Two exteriors were needed, before heading indoors.
The first was an establishing shot, which looked beautiful. The second proved tougher, with dialogue, plus characters coming and going, all of which needed to be captured from different angles. Doctors doesn't have permission to shut down streets, so it can be at the mercy of passing pedestrians, planes flying overhead - and, especially, traffic. Challenging is not the word for it!
Despite all these factors, the final exterior for the day was completed before lunch. [Just as well, since a day that started beautiful turned grey after lunch with sheets of rain lashing past at times.] After a pub lunch, it was indoors for a plethora of scenes from my story of the day - and another infant actor. The wee mite was a star, but filming round a toddler is never straight forward.
I stayed till late afternoon, but had to leave before five. The cast and crew still had hours of week ahead of them, but were remaining remarkably good humoured. They made me very welcome and I managed to keep out of the way 99% of the time. Spending a day on set certainly gave me new found respect for how hard a throwaway sentence in a script can make life for those shooting your story.
So, what did I learn from my day on location with Doctors? Having one infant in your story is asking for trouble - having two is verging on sadism. It's not enough to think about your scene to scene transitions, you also need to think about transitions within each scene; how the balance of power shifts between characters, how the energy rises and falls, how to find the best endpoint.
Having been to plenty of recordings of my work, I wasn't surprised to hear my words sound very different when acted by professionals. I'd a fair idea how the regulars would say their lines, but the guest actors for my story of the day found new angles and corners I hadn't noticed in the script. Suspect I've lucked out with them. All in all, a fascinating glimpse behind the scenes for me.
The experience has left me more determined than ever to get more scripts commissioned. I've two pitches lurking in the big pile, waiting to be read, but nothing in the story bank. Need to get more proposals into the works. I've broken my duck, but now I need to prove that wasn't a fluke. One broadcast credit proves I've not a total novice, but it's credits two, three and four that show you're a professional.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Belated happy birthday for this blog
Vicious Imagery turned four on Saturday and I forgot. Too busy engaged with manual labour elsewhere - totting that barge, lifting that bale. Got the aches and strains to prove it, too. Bent over like an enfeebled question mark as a consequence. Being a writer prepares you for many things in life, but physical labour isn't one of them. Still, I should recover by the end of today.
This blog was launched as an online journal for the screenwriting MA I'd just started at Screen Academy Scotland. By happy coincidence I spent Friday night socialising with several students from my academy days. Each of us has followed a different path since completing the course. Some have abandoned screenwriting altogether, others are keeping their dream alive but mostly writing for other media.
Nobody said it would be easy [in fact, almost everybody told us how hard it would be]. Common wisdom seems to suggest it takes five to ten years to make it as a screenwriter. I can't claim anything close to having made it, but I can see signs of progress. Next Monday I'll be in Birmingham to see my first TV drama being filmed, an episode of Doctors for broadcast on BBC1 next February.
Today I've got a couple of meetings about projects [no names, no pack drill available]. Will anything come of them? I've no idea. Just as I'm terrible at taking a compliment, so I always guilty of lowering expectations whenever possible to shield myself from disappointment. But deep down inside, I dearly love these projects to happen. For now, as ever - onwards!
This blog was launched as an online journal for the screenwriting MA I'd just started at Screen Academy Scotland. By happy coincidence I spent Friday night socialising with several students from my academy days. Each of us has followed a different path since completing the course. Some have abandoned screenwriting altogether, others are keeping their dream alive but mostly writing for other media.
Nobody said it would be easy [in fact, almost everybody told us how hard it would be]. Common wisdom seems to suggest it takes five to ten years to make it as a screenwriter. I can't claim anything close to having made it, but I can see signs of progress. Next Monday I'll be in Birmingham to see my first TV drama being filmed, an episode of Doctors for broadcast on BBC1 next February.
Today I've got a couple of meetings about projects [no names, no pack drill available]. Will anything come of them? I've no idea. Just as I'm terrible at taking a compliment, so I always guilty of lowering expectations whenever possible to shield myself from disappointment. But deep down inside, I dearly love these projects to happen. For now, as ever - onwards!
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
Go read Michelle's post
The wonderful Michelle Lipton has made life easy for me this morning, posting an intelligent and empowering blog about the difficult pathway to becoming a full-time, freelance writer. Since I agree with everything she's written, I suggest you go visit her blog and read what she has to say. That is all.
Monday, October 05, 2009
"Crime and football" - pull the other one, STV
[Another rant - sorry.] STV's director of content Alan Clements has fessed up that dumping most of ITV's dramas from the Scottish broadcaster's schedule is all about money. He told industry trade paper Broadcast last week that shedding the likes of Lewis, The Bill and Doc Martin was saving STV £4.5 million. The company was cutting its cloth sensibly, making a profit while ITV posts losses.
Compare this to what STV said after refusing to show Lewis in March: "We plan to opt out of the ITV Network more frequently, taking control of our schedule and introducing more Scottish-produced programmes and acquired series that will hold wide appeal across the country. We will be rolling out more exciting stv programming initiatives in the next few months, which we hope you will enjoy."
Clements also admitted dropping The X Factor or Coronation Street was out of the question, while dumping factual shows saved too little money to be worthwhile. But not all of his reported statements hold water. According to Broadcast, Clements said: "We know what our audience likes - crime and football. We have to create a relevant and affordable and informative schedule for Scottish viewers."
If STV viewers are so fond of crime, why has the broadcaster dumped long-running police drama The Bill? Or murder mystery series like Lewis? Or favourite whodunnits like Marple? Or crime thrillers like The Fixer? If STV viewers like football, why does the broadcaster show so few lives matches? Pull the other one, STV, you're not fooling anybody with your feeble attempts at misdirection.
Here's the most telling comment in Clements' interview with Broadcast: "We have to create a relevant and affordable and informative schedule for Scottish viewers." One word stands out amongst all of that, doesn't it? AFFORDABLE. That's the real reason. Everything else is just window dressing, wrapping a kilt around content in a transparent attempt to please jingoistic numbskulls.
"What we are doing is good for us and good for Scotland," Clements reportedly said. Well, he's half right.
Compare this to what STV said after refusing to show Lewis in March: "We plan to opt out of the ITV Network more frequently, taking control of our schedule and introducing more Scottish-produced programmes and acquired series that will hold wide appeal across the country. We will be rolling out more exciting stv programming initiatives in the next few months, which we hope you will enjoy."
Clements also admitted dropping The X Factor or Coronation Street was out of the question, while dumping factual shows saved too little money to be worthwhile. But not all of his reported statements hold water. According to Broadcast, Clements said: "We know what our audience likes - crime and football. We have to create a relevant and affordable and informative schedule for Scottish viewers."
If STV viewers are so fond of crime, why has the broadcaster dumped long-running police drama The Bill? Or murder mystery series like Lewis? Or favourite whodunnits like Marple? Or crime thrillers like The Fixer? If STV viewers like football, why does the broadcaster show so few lives matches? Pull the other one, STV, you're not fooling anybody with your feeble attempts at misdirection.
Here's the most telling comment in Clements' interview with Broadcast: "We have to create a relevant and affordable and informative schedule for Scottish viewers." One word stands out amongst all of that, doesn't it? AFFORDABLE. That's the real reason. Everything else is just window dressing, wrapping a kilt around content in a transparent attempt to please jingoistic numbskulls.
"What we are doing is good for us and good for Scotland," Clements reportedly said. Well, he's half right.
Friday, October 02, 2009
Movement, progress and momentum
The results of this year's Page International Screenwriting Awards are in and THE WOMAN WHO SCREAMED BUTTERFLIES didn't win a prize. Such is life. I'm proud my script was one of ten finalists in the short film category, even if TWWSB couldn't repeat the success of DANNY'S TOYS in 2007. The Page Awards received nearly 4400 scripts from 58 countries this year, so getting as far as I did in my category is still noteworthy.
The upside is that two different parties are keen on developing TWWSB. Perversely, not winning anything at the Page Awards makes it easier to press on. No hands have been shaken or deals struck yet - but I've more hope of this script being made than I did for DANNY'S TOYS. That required animation and was going to cost a bomb. TWWSB has its challenges, but could be made relatively cheaply. Time will tell.
What else? My first script for Doctors is pretty much done and dusted. Not sure if it's been absolutely, formally locked, but everyone seems happy with my efforts. The director for the block has already started prep and filming's scheduled for later this month. I'd love to pop down to Birmingham for a day to observe, but that will require the alignment of many different planets. Keep you posted.
Once my script has been locked, it's back to the blank page for me at Doctors. I don't have any more story of the day ideas already approved and in the bank, waiting for a slot. Two of my pitches are lurking in a pile, waiting to be read, but it can take months [and months sometimes] before I'll hear back about them. So I need to develop and submit some more fresh ideas, building on what I've learned.
Despite being back at zero in some way, I've achieved two significant things with my first Doctors script. Getting that first broadcast credit makes me that little bit more credible as a TV drama writer. I'm not just talking the talk, I've taken my first baby steps on the career path. Now comes the even harder part - securing a second commission, and a third. Proving one wasn't a fluke. Can I build up some momentum?
The other achievement is less tangible, but perhaps just as important - performing as a professional writer. My scene by scene breakdown did its job well, even if I had too many scenes. My first draft nailed both my story of the day, and captured the voices of the regular characters. Continuing dramas like Doctors depend on their regulars to hook audiences and keep viewers coming back for more.
Most of all, I delivered all my drafts on deadline [ahead of them, in fact] and took on board notes. The latter statement isn't just implementing notes, it's about trying to make the script even better. Being professional is about making everybody else's job easier if you can. It's a collaboration, not an us and them situation. Always think to yourself, "How can we make this script better?"
In ten years as a comics editor, I worked with dozens of freelance writers. High maintenance individuals who needed their hand held through every single bloody stage of the process didn't last for long. Writers who argued over every notes were almost always more trouble than they were worth. I didn't want to work with writers like that. If I had to, I would minimize contact as much as possible.
When I went freelance, I made a vow not to become a high maintenance writer. All the talent in the world will only get you so far if you're a nightmare. Be professional and people will want to work with you again. Make their job easier by doing good work and they'll employ you again. If you can't be a genius - and far of us are - be a professional. That's how you progress your career. Onwards!
The upside is that two different parties are keen on developing TWWSB. Perversely, not winning anything at the Page Awards makes it easier to press on. No hands have been shaken or deals struck yet - but I've more hope of this script being made than I did for DANNY'S TOYS. That required animation and was going to cost a bomb. TWWSB has its challenges, but could be made relatively cheaply. Time will tell.
What else? My first script for Doctors is pretty much done and dusted. Not sure if it's been absolutely, formally locked, but everyone seems happy with my efforts. The director for the block has already started prep and filming's scheduled for later this month. I'd love to pop down to Birmingham for a day to observe, but that will require the alignment of many different planets. Keep you posted.
Once my script has been locked, it's back to the blank page for me at Doctors. I don't have any more story of the day ideas already approved and in the bank, waiting for a slot. Two of my pitches are lurking in a pile, waiting to be read, but it can take months [and months sometimes] before I'll hear back about them. So I need to develop and submit some more fresh ideas, building on what I've learned.
Despite being back at zero in some way, I've achieved two significant things with my first Doctors script. Getting that first broadcast credit makes me that little bit more credible as a TV drama writer. I'm not just talking the talk, I've taken my first baby steps on the career path. Now comes the even harder part - securing a second commission, and a third. Proving one wasn't a fluke. Can I build up some momentum?
The other achievement is less tangible, but perhaps just as important - performing as a professional writer. My scene by scene breakdown did its job well, even if I had too many scenes. My first draft nailed both my story of the day, and captured the voices of the regular characters. Continuing dramas like Doctors depend on their regulars to hook audiences and keep viewers coming back for more.
Most of all, I delivered all my drafts on deadline [ahead of them, in fact] and took on board notes. The latter statement isn't just implementing notes, it's about trying to make the script even better. Being professional is about making everybody else's job easier if you can. It's a collaboration, not an us and them situation. Always think to yourself, "How can we make this script better?"
In ten years as a comics editor, I worked with dozens of freelance writers. High maintenance individuals who needed their hand held through every single bloody stage of the process didn't last for long. Writers who argued over every notes were almost always more trouble than they were worth. I didn't want to work with writers like that. If I had to, I would minimize contact as much as possible.
When I went freelance, I made a vow not to become a high maintenance writer. All the talent in the world will only get you so far if you're a nightmare. Be professional and people will want to work with you again. Make their job easier by doing good work and they'll employ you again. If you can't be a genius - and far of us are - be a professional. That's how you progress your career. Onwards!
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