My incredibly long journey to NOT writing River City

In August 2011 I delivered the first draft of my first commissioned script for River City, a weekly sixty-minute drama on BBC1 in Scotland. All being well, my episode was scheduled to broadcast on Tuesday January 17, 2012 - that didn't happen. Alas, my writing didn't match the expectations of River City and another scribe was allocated that particular episode. Out of historical interest, here is the original blog I posted after submitting my first draft - marvel at the hubris...

Getting to this point has been an incredibly long journey, full of raised hopes and dashed dreams. Plenty of times I despaired of ever reaching where I am right now. Here’s a blog post about all the steps on the way. Warning: this is not brief or pithy.

2006: In February that year I went to a seminar run by Edinburgh writer-director Adrian Mead. By chance I sat next to Louise Ironside, who’d just been taken on as a writer by the BBC Scotland continuing drama series River City. I nabbed her contact details and got in touch in the following week, asking how she’d gotten on the show.

The procedure seemed straight-forward. Watch the show for at least six weeks, then write a two page critique. Submit that to the script office with a sample of your writing. In 2005 a bunch of likely candidates had been selected from the pile of unsolicited, unagented submissions to attend a weekend workshop about the show. Louise went this route and impressed enough to earn a live commission. She aced that, and one script led to another.

I followed the procedure, submitting my critique and a sample by the end of March. [The sample was a ten-page short film script, the first thing I wrote for my MA. At that point I was still in the first year of two on the course, as a part-timer.] Then, I waited. Little did I realise this would be my default setting with River City for the next five and a half years!

Fast forward to August: I hadn’t heard anything but the show’s then executive produce, Sandra MacIver, was a guest speaker at the Edinburgh International Film Festival. I went along, listened carefully, and introduced myself after. She was sorry to hear about the lack of response, and suggested I submit an updated critique. So I did.

September: producer Amanda Verlaque invited a bunch of writers to try out for the show over successive weekends, including me. We were emailed storyline documents for half an episode and given three days over a weekend to turn these into script pages. River City was 30 minutes per episode at the time, so we were writing 14 minutes. Deadline was midday Monday, come hell or high water, with the promise of feedback within a week.

I did my best and submitted the results on Monday morning. Got an acknowledgement by email immediately, promise of feedback to follow. End of that week, I got an apologetic email – feedback was coming, but might be another week. And that was the last I heard without chasing the production office for an answer. Every month I’d get them a nudge.
Sometimes I got an apologetic response, mostly I heard nothing back at all. Round Christmas I gave up hope altogether and stopped watching the show. Why bother, right?

2007: I had an meeting with Sandra in May, trekking out to the Dumbarton studios where River City is filmed to talk about the possibilities of shadowing someone in the storyline or script editing department. Sandra was very welcoming, gave me 45 minutes of her time – but it all came to naught. Couple of months later I got a gentle ‘sorry, no’ email.

Fast forward to September: Twelve months on from being promised feedback within a week, I received a polite rejection letter. I checked round the other people I knew who’d taken the trial, they were all getting the same letter. A guy called Danny Spring was given the job of welcoming everyone to Dumpsville, population: us. I left it a few days, then phoned him to ask for further feedback. He was full of apologies, but my writing from a year earlier had been merely competent. [To my utter mortification, he’d also dug out the original writing sample from March 2006!]

I pointed out I’d finished my screenwriting MA in the meantime, had a play on Radio 4, won an international screenwriting prize, taken workshops in storylining and script editing. In short, I’d been working hard to better my craft skills and writing. Any chance he’d read work more up to date than a script written over a weekend 12 months earlier? Danny was kind enough to agree, so I sent him in my pilot script Families At War. Three months later Danny left River City and I was back to square one. Again. Sigh.

2008: I hadn’t let the grass grow under my feet, writing a successful trial script for another BBC continuing drama series called Doctors. A few days after getting the news I was now approved for submitting story of the day pitches to Doctors, I got a letter from River City. A new arrival in the script department had found Families At War and wrote to tell me all the things that were wrong with it. River City would not be taking on any new writers for at least a year, but I was welcome to have another try then. I wrote back, politely thanking them for the feedback.

I’d stopped watching River City altogether by this point. It underwent internal regime change, moving from two 30-minute episodes to a single 60-minute episode a week, not without hitting a few bumps along the way. I dipped into watching the show occasionally, but with limited enthusiasm. Get your heart broken often enough, you try to stop caring.

2009: Fast forward once more, this time to November. The BBC Scotland drama department had its first open opportunity for what felt like years, a scheme called Scotland Writes. A winner and runner-up got cash prizes, another 20 people got a one-day workshop with the drama department. There was talk of a River City shadow scheme as well for those who got short-listed. I entered – and didn’t make the cut. Such is life.

BBC Scotland’s then-head of drama Anne Mensah had an open Q and A session at Pacific Quay as part of the Scotland Writes initiative, and I went along to introduce myself. To my surprise, she recognised my name from having been a judge for the Red Planet Prize [Families At War was a finalist in the contest that year]. She suggested I talk to River City’s then current executive producer, Morag Bain, about writing for the show.

In fact, I’d already talked to Morag that evening. She said the show was definitely running a shadow scheme soon but I was too late to get on that. Sigh.

2010: Fast forward yet again to February. My first ep of Doctors was broadcast on BBC1. I’d been busy watching River City for the past three months. Striking while the iron was hot, I emailed Morag, citing my first broadcast credit on Doctors. Any chance of River City giving me another look now that Doctors had given me some added legitimacy?

Morag got straight back, said I’d been on her radar a while [news to me!] and passed my details to one of her producers, Jonathan Phillips. I sent in my samples, and waited...

Fast forward to April: all change [again] at River City. By now I knew the drill. When an ongoing series [or a small nation] undergoes regime change, all new business gets put to the bottom of the priority pile. Everyone’s figuring out how things work, so they don’t have time for those knocking on the door from outside.

Fast forward to October and another Adrian Mead seminar. Yes, in a delightful piece of symmetry, I’m right back where I started. This time I went along specifically to meet one of River City’s regular writers, Rob Fraser. Could he suggest who I should be targeting at the show? Rob kindly pointed me at a script editor who’d been at the show all the years I’d been trying to find a way in.

Remember that massive, week-long snowstorm that brought much of the country to a standstill in December 2010? That happened the day I was due to meet the series script editor in Glasgow. After so many years trying to get a foot in the door, I was determined to get to my meeting, even if it meant re-enacting large chunks of The Day After Tomorrow while driving in a Toyota Yaris on roads that best resembled the Cresta Run.

Amazingly, we both made it to the meeting and had a lovely chat in the BBC canteen. The script editor would see what she could do, but could make me no promises. None the less, I went home happy [just as well, the journey back took another three hours]. After so long and so many near misses, this felt like some sort of progress.

By this point I had two eps of Doctors under my belt, another imminent, a London agent, another BBC radio play for the BBC, and was scripting five eps of Nina and the Neurons for CBeebies Scotland. In short, I’d been busy paying my dues and learning my craft.

2011: Fast forward to July, and a meeting with River City’s producer Graeme Gordon and series script editor Ciara Conway. In view of my credits and experience, there was no need for me to complete a shadow script. But they did want reassurance I could write for the show before risking a straight commission. So I did a trial scene by scene, working from story documents for an imminent ep. Playing with live ammo, you might call it.

Fast forward to August. Five and a half years after I starting this incredibly long and frequently strange journey, I have just signed contracts to write an episode of the sixty minute BBC Scotland drama River City. Feels like it has taken me forever to reach this point. Four words keep ringing in my head: don’t fuck it up. Don’t Fuck. It. Up. [Alas, I fucked it up.]

So, what lessons – if any – can be extracted from all of these experiences?

TIMING IS EVERYTHING. That’s not just about submitting at the moment when they happen to have an opening. Unless you’ve got someone on the inside, you’ll probably never know if it’s that moment. No, this is about not submitting before you’re ready. My 2006 try-out was competent at best. I was able to turn storylines into script efficiently enough, but lacked the boldness to transform the stories, make them my own, transmute base metal into golden dialogue and scintillating transitions.

REGIME CHANGE WILL HAPPEN. All continuing and returning drama series undergo some sort of regime change every few years. If you’re not already in the room when that happens, you may be as well to hang back for a while. Yes, this could be the golden opportunity to get a foot in the door while everyone’s looking the other way. But it could also be the worst of times to join the show. New leaders like to impose their stamp on how things are done. Let the dust settle before you dive in.

VALIDATE YOURSELF AS A WRITER. You cannot depend on the approval of others for all of your emotional well-being as a writer. That is asking to get your [metaphorical] teeth kicked in on a regular basis. You will be miserable most of the time because writers get rejections all the time. You have to validate your own worth as a writer. How? By constantly striving to do better, challenging yourself. By learning and, most of all, by writing. Otherwise you’ll become a right moody bastard. Fact.

DON’T TAKEN REJECTION PERSONALLY. I got rejected again and again by various people within BBC Scotland, but I got over it. Most of the times, I wasn’t ready. Other times, they didn’t like my writing. Tough. If luck is where opportunity meets preparation, it’s your job as a writer to be ready when an opportunity does arise. Keep learning, keep improving, keep going. They aren’t rejecting you, they’ve rejected whatever piece of writing you submitted. It happens. Stop whining. Move on.

SUCCESS IS THE BEST REVENGE. When you do get rejected [and you will], turn that negative energy into a desire to be even better – and to prove them wrong. Look for other opportunities. Don’t give up too easily. As a wise man once said, brick walls lets us prove how badly we want things. I didn’t crack River City until after I’d proven myself at Doctors. One success leads to another. So make it happen.

POSTSCRIPT: While nearly all professional TV writers will face reversals at some point in their career, what happened at River City was made all the more gutting by the epic journey that preceded it. But this helped demonstrate the continuing drama was not what I needed to be writing. Just wish I happened spent quite so long chasing the wrong dream! Live and learn...

It's official: My first 60-minute TV drama commission

It's official: I've been given my first 60-minute TV drama commission. I'm writing an episode of the BBC Scotland weekly drama River City, due to tx Tuesday 17th January, 2012. Right now I'm in first draft mode, so best get back to that. There's a looooong post coming about my epic journey to reach this point. In the meantime: Onwards!

Always dubsteppin' in the same car

There's a certain who professed ignorance of dubstep yesterday. Since Lucy likes NIN, here's a dubstep take on Me I'm Not. No doubt she'll hate it! For those less aware with the NIN canon, a couple of other dubstep interpretations of familiar tunes.

'Dear John' - another great slice of kiwiana

Cracking NZ TV ad from the 1980s [sadly, one of the few].

Phillip Schofield: The Wonder Years

Before he became a fixture of sofas and skating rinks, British TV presenter Phillip Schofield spent a few years hosting pop music shows in New Zealand. Here's a very scratchy video of him in 1985. Not many men wear a pink shirt well. You be the judge!

Industrial Australian Gothic at its finest

This is 'Talking to a Strangers' by Hunters & Collectors. Turn it up.

Flashmob opera in a supermarket: La Rondine

The Opera Holland Park Chorus staged a flashmob performance of this lush piece from Puccini's La Rondine. [Watch the poor checkout girl's face, she doesn't know what to do!] Hummed along in a chorus of this very tune during last year's Biggar Little Festival. To my shame, I only ever managed to learn the final phrase: 'Con Fiore!'

'Jay, I told you to clean the garage!' [Duct Tape Tron]

This amused me. Never did understand some people's love of Tron.

When Muppets Attack: The Count - he loves to ****

Today I shall mostly be writing a first draft

Got the go-ahead to first draft for a new project yesterday. About to create a new file in Final Draft and commence writing. It's that scary moment when the whole thing is a perfect concept with no reality attached. The moment before I actually start writing and all my flaws slap me in the face. [Gits.] It's the moment...

So, that's my weekend sorted [plus the next week and a half day after that as well]. So, what are you guys doing with your weekend? Once I get the contract I'll be happy to wave it from the rooftops. [Translation: burble about it here on my blog.] In the meantime, enjoy the sunshine that seems to be falling from the sky. Onwards!

Burnistoun: Do the Hustle!

Three songs live on bFM by Rosy Tin Teacaddy

Got besotted with this duo while on holiday in New Zealand. This clip shows them performing three songs - All Mountains Are Men, Pretty as a Picture, Telegrams and Ashes - live to air on bFM, the country's most famous student radio station. All three songs are available on the All Mountains Are Men album via iTunes UK/NZ etc. Enjoy!

Genius: Cookie Monster versus Tom Waits

NSFW: 'The Sun' by The Naked and Famous

Another day, another video from a Kiwi band. The Naked and Famous are an electropop outfit who seem to be making some impact globally. [Wonder if they've ever listened to NZ original flavour 1980s electropopsters like Danse Macabre or Car Crash Set?] Apparently this video's been banned from YouTube. Too many nipples, I guess. Enjoy.

'Tell Me What You Want' by the Pajama Club

Love this low-fi, down and dirty track by the Pajama Club, it was a real highlight of the band's set at Oran Mor in Glasgow last month. Yes, that's Neil Finn on the drums. The Pajama Club is the brainchild of Neil and Sharon Finn [on bass], ably assisted by SJD and Alanna Skyring. Album due out next month, already got it pre-ordered. Enjoy!

Kiwis shocked by snowfall in Wellington's Cuba Mall

It rarely snows in many parts of New Zealand. Much of the Southern Alps and parts of the South Island get it, some high altitude parts of the North Island. Snow in Auckland all but never happens, Wellington's much the same. Witness what happened in the latter's Cuba Mall yesterday. Film by Ro Tierney.

Genius: Kirk/Spock animated slash video

Featuring Pulp's Common People, as performed by William Shatner and Joe Jackson, produced by Ben Folds. Utter genius all round. Enjoy!

Spoiler alert: he gets in the back of the van

Here's a back catalogue classic from the SwedeMason people that brought you the immortal Masterchef mashup Buttery Biscuit Base. It's one of the all-time great lines from Withnail and I, from a film that spawned dozens of catchphrases. In case you're wondering, that's Anthony Wise as Policeman Two. All together now...

"Literary fiction ... nothing more than a genre itself"

Great interview in today's Observer with writer Neil Cross, who was Booker Prize long-listed in 2004. He's also the creator of smash hit TV drama Luther. My favourite quote: "It's perceived as an accolade to be published as a 'literary' writer, but, actually, it's pompous and it's fake. Literary fiction is often nothing more than a genre in itself." Couldn't agree more. Read the whole interview here. Onwards!

Groovy new Doctor Who trailer

Clash of the Britons: what UK foreign office staff do

Don't Even Think of Committing a Crime, Creeps!

Apparently you'll soon be able to buy adult replica costumes of Judge Dredd and Psi-Judge Anderson from Planet Replicas. [These are the classic comic uniforms, not based on either film incarnation.] Hmm, my psychic powers sense geekgasms from 2000AD fans contemplating a special purchase for their partners... Worrying!

Not a single f**k artist revealed!

Last week I was enthusing about the joyful sweariness of the delightful image above, wondering who created it. Thanks to Twitter, I've discovered the artist is Li Chen, who lives in my old hometown of Auckland, New Zealand. Li is the creator of web-based Extra Ordinary Comics, also known as exocomics. Go check it out!

Now this is something you don't see every day...

...a Mariachi band performing for a Beluga whale. Kind of genius.

An Inspector calls: Morse returning to TV in 2012

It's official: Oxford's most beloved fictional detective is returning to TV next year in a brand new drama. Endeavour will be set in 1965, near the start of Morse's long career as a policeman. The one-off special is being filmed this summer for broadcast early in 2012, to celebrate Morse's 25th anniversary on screen.

Russell Lewis has written this prequel to the BAFTA-winning crime series, which was based on Colin Dexter's novels. Shaun Evans [pictured above] has been cast in the lead role, given the job of emulating the late, great John Thaw. But instead of a legendary chief inspector, Endeavour will see him as a lowly detective constable.

Many of the team behind the Morse series are involved with the prequel. Indeed, Russell Lewis wrote for Morse and scripted the Lewis spin-off's pilot episode. Only time will tell whether they can re-create some of that Morse magic, this time in a period setting. Should certainly make for interesting viewing.

For me, it means some hasty last-minute revisions to a new edition of The Complete Inspector Morse, published this autumn by Titan Books [see cover at right]. I thought this fifth incarnation might be the final, definitive version. I even included a section on last year's stage incarnation of Morse, starring former Doctor Who Colin Baker as the most irascible of inspectors. But ITV have other plans. I guess it means there could well be a sixth edition of The Complete Inspector Morse at some point in the future. Onwards!

Writers' Festival 2011: Holby City - script to screen

August already? sigh. It's been weeks since the BBC writersroom staged the 2011 TV drama Writers' Festival and I still haven't typed up my notes. So here's the first in an occasional series, assuming I can decipher my very, very, very rusty shorthand and scribblings. Today: Holby City - script to screen.

“A nuts and bolts works on the story process from inception to execution with series producer Justin Young [JY], and script producer Simon Harper [SH].”

SH: There’s been a reshuffle at Holby. Justin was head writer, now series producer. [This change is about] making shows more writer-led. As story producer, I’m responsible for all scripts. On Holby we look for four things – head, heart, hooks and humour. I give out straight commissions to experienced writers, people who’ve written hour-long TV.

JY: Holby is an aspirational show about surgeons, ranging from very smart to smart in a different way. Subtext is crucial. A bad hour of Holby is the longest hour of TV of the week. You need a keen sense of structure. We look for really sharp, witty dialogue.

SH: Holby is so different to Casualty. It can be much more heightened, what we call 110% reality. Know and be passionate about the characters. There’s no emergency medicine, Holby doesn’t go outside the wards.

It’s elective surgery, so it’s seen through the eyes of the regulars. We’re trying to escape an hour of talking. We’re really driving incident and action.

I’ve just given out six straight commissions in a row [to writers with experience on one-hour dramas]. If a writer only has half hour experience, there’s departmental money to do shadow schemes.

On a shadow scheme, six writers spend a day at Elstree learning the structure of the show, about the world. We divide our show into A story [50%], B story [30%] and C story [20%]. More often than not, the story’s are all in different wards.

Shadow scheme writers are given six weeks to write a strand from a script. They go through three drafts, getting notes on each draft. Four of the six writers from last year’s scheme are now doing commissions for Holby.

The BBC Writers’ Academy has helped drive Holby [JY is a graduate of the academy]. But the academy isn’t the only way into Holby. I always have gaps, I’m always looking for new writers. Writing for Holby is about being good and passionate.

Holby isn’t a soap. We want you to write it as your hour, a crafted piece of drama – not just three strands of soap, bubbling away.

JY: It’s a remarkably authored show. You really can own your hour.

SH: Your guest story is very important to that. It can’t be superfluous. That’s a tricky balance to get right. I’m constantly liaising with agents, meeting people.

JY: We hold long term conferences for blue sky insanity, with the core writing team. Everyone pitches ideas. We’ll split into groups to tackle individual characters.

SH: Holby works in series, even though it’s on air all year round. Series 13 is on screen at the moment . Writing for series 14 is happening now, starts on TV in October.

We divide each series into quarters, with each quarter like a mini-series with its own arcs for all the regular characters. The story department, core writers and others will create a serial document for each quarter of a series. Then I book suitable writers for each ep.

JY: Each ep is a link in a larger narrative chain. The job of an ep writer is to craft their story link in the most interesting way.

SH: Once writers are contracted, they start talking about guest stories with the script editor(s). We keep an eye out for replication or duplication. Hold planning meeting for the whole quarter, everyone round a big table. That gives writers a sense of their ep within the larger arc. We thrash things out. When the commissioning doc is locked down, eps roll out in blocks of two e.g. 1 & 2, 3 & 4.

JY: The two day commissioning conference – two days locked in a room. Two eps, one script editor, looking at how the eps, the stories, the guest stories integrate. This gests writers tuned into the show’s characters, their specifics at that moment. I still get to the second draft of my own scripts sometimes and realise a character’s superfluous.

Day one focuses on ep 1 of the pair, but both writers are there to create a sense of continuity. Each story gets broken into beats, quite specifically.

SH: We’ll ask questions like why is that happening in the guest story? How is that relevant? Writers get research on medicine, it’s the writers job to make it sexy and interesting. Holby City is not a soap, it’s a medical drama. Medicine is the sword our characters wield.

The writer writes up their episode pitch over three pages. Gives it a title, outlines the thematic elements, breaks each story into five acts. Shows how guest stories play into the serial. What’s the big curveball that sets protagonist up for the day? Identify ad breaks.

JY: It’s really rigorous. Writers often comes to us with a character idea, not a story idea.

SH: You have got three serial stories, maybe an also story [like a D story, but deep in the background], and three guest stories. There can be up to ten strands, twisting and turning. It’s really challenging. We talk a lot about the four Hs of Holby City – Head [intelligent, smart writing], Heart [emotionally involving], Hooks [turning points that help drive the narratives] and Humour [sharp, snappy dialogue]. It needs erudition, smartness.

JY: Every scene should end on a question.

SH: The Holby City songtage [where an emotionally resonant song plays over a montage of the day’s storylines, often near the end of an ep] – that puppy dog moment is needed.

Holby used to be angsty, humourless, competitive. It needs banter and joy.

JY: Getting the tone right is very hard. It’s heightened but still needs to be real. Sexy and smart but still real.

SH: I teach the show quite regularly to new writers. There is a guest story formula.

After the 3 page document, writers move on to their scene by scene. There’s no virtue in rushing. You have to pin down the choreography of your story.

JY: An average script goes through five drafts. Sometimes you effectively end up writing three first drafts as part of that process.

SH: The US TV drama Grey’s anatomy is a wonderful model for aspirational and emotional appeal. Here’s a rough guide to have five act structure works in Holby…

Act One: set-up serial of protagonist’s wants and needs
Act Two: an explosive medical case comes through the doors
Act Three: coming as your medical case emotionally compromised by your situation
Act Four: it all goes tits up – emotionally, medically, etc
Act Five: Symbiotic resolutions – one plays into the other – resonance, not resemblance

JY: There really doesn’t always have to be resonance.

SH: In a spec script I need to see smartness, funny, a lightness of touch.