For a long time, I felt the BBC Writers' Academy would be the fast track to success as a TV dramatist in Britain. It's certainly the fast track to one high volume strand in UK TV - continuing drama. Get in the academy and you're all but guaranteed a crack at EastEnders, Holby City, Casualty and Doctors. If that's what you want - brilliant.
Many fine TV dramatists learned their trade in continuing drama, so I'm not knocking it as a training ground. But to write well for continuing drama you have to love those shows, or at least drink the KoolAid. If continuing drama isn't your first love, you face having to fake loving them for years on end to succeed.
In continuing drama, emerging writers can feel like servants to the machine. Some succeed and get to ascent the rank. Others get rewritten . Some simply get fired, either because they couldn't fulfill the exec's vision, or couldn't write within the show's tone and format, or simply couldn't cope with being a cog in a machine.
At one extremity, the writer's job seems little more than taking the storyline documents, adding structure and dialogue, and then outputting several drafts. [That's a gross overstatement for effect, I hasten to add!] At the other end of the spectrum is the delightful Doctors, where writers invent 60% of their episode from scratch.
Continuing drama execs talk about encouraging new voices - and many of them do. But the show always comes first. If you can't give them what they want on deadline, you will be fired. [That happens on plenty of other UK TV dramas, but the relentless machinery of continuing drama can be particularly crushing.]
The Writers' Academy was set up to counteract the problem of new scribes failing on Casualty and Holby. From memory, 4 out of 5 new writers used to get booted. The WA has made significant improvements to that, and deserves applause. [Holby or Casualty also run shadow schemes, if the academy route isn't for you.]
But I've decided not to bother trying for the academy again. Some 600 people apply annually and about 30 get invited to a workshop day. That leads to interviews, from which eight are chosen. Talent will out, but it's also a bit of a lottery. I know some very successful screenwriters who've failed with applications, so I'm in good company.
[Why haven't I succeeded? Partly the quality and volume of competition, but mostly it's the scripts I've submitted. Not distinctive enough, not enough individual voice shining through. Last year I made the longlist with a rough first draft. This year, a much more polished version of that script didn't even make the longlist - such is life.]
I've applied four times in six years and never made it to the workshop day. Even if I had, I doubt I would have gone further. Each time I applied, I felt obliged to watch Eastenders, Casualty and Holby in case I make the shortlist. That should be a joy - not an obligation. If I didn't enjoy watching these shows, why would I enjoy writing them?
While I haven't gotten close to the WA, I've written four episodes of Doctors broadcast by the BBC since 2010. Had my second radio play on air. Written ten episodes of Nina and the Neurons for CBeebies. Scripted an acclaimed computer game. Helped establish a groundbreaking Creative Writing MA at Edinburgh Napier University.
I'm enjoying my writing. It's not always fun, certainly not always easy, but I'm challenging myself. Yesterday I finished a first draft of my first feature film screenplay, written on spec. I've enough stories to write to last me a lifetime. So abandoning my Quixotic quest to get into the Writers' Academy doesn't feel like much of a sacrifice.
A tiny part of me feels making this decision is akin to Uncle Monty in Withnail and I, admitting he will never play the Dane. But my ambitions have certainly not ceased or diminished. If anything, not watching endless hours of hospital dramas should free up a lot more time for writing, reading and watching TV drama. Onwards!
Showing posts with label BBC Writers' Academy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BBC Writers' Academy. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 08, 2012
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Been rejected? Shrug, and move on...
[This is a re-post from elsewhere, as Blogger was unhelpful earlier.]
Got my BBC Writers' Academy rejection email yesterday, as did many others. I didn't progress from the longlist of 156 to the top 30 candidates. Bad news: there were at least 30 scripts entered that were better than mine. Good news: I can now make plans for September-December.
Curiously, I was less affected than when I last applied in 2008. Back then the Academy seemed like the be-all and end-all of my ambitions. I'd done a successful trial script for Doctors, but couldn't get a story of the day pitch banked to save my life. I didn't have an agent, didn't have many prospects. It was crushing.
Fortunately, I had the Doctors shadow scheme ahead to help quell my disappointment. That led to my first commission in 2009, and things have snowballed from there. I now have an agent, three eps of Doctors to my name and have written five eps of Nina and the Neurons, due for broadcast on CBeebies this year.
The Academy is no longer the sole focus of my ambitions. Getting in would be a brilliant turbo-boost, accelerating me from 30 minute to hour-long drama. It's a big leap, and one not easily made. The Academy would have helped with that transition, giving me direct access to the likes of Casualty and Holby City.
But the Academy is not the only way to make a great leap forwards. Writing a great, original spec script can get you noticed. If you live in Wales, Scotland or Ireland, you could target one of the drama series made locally. The BBC runs shadow schemes for all its continuing drama series, in addition to the Academy.
Don't forget radio drama, a great place to hone your craft as a writer. The BBC commissions dozens of new scribes every year for that medium. One credit there makes you a more credible prospect. And there are plenty of other schemes and competitions, like Get A Squiggle On and the Red Planet Prize.
If you pin all your hopes on a single opportunity like the Academy, it's like staking your mortgage on a longshot at the Grand National. A few people end up smiling, but most lost out. So for everyone who got their rejection emails yesterday, I know exactly how you feel. It's time to shrug, and move to the next thing.
Onwards!
Got my BBC Writers' Academy rejection email yesterday, as did many others. I didn't progress from the longlist of 156 to the top 30 candidates. Bad news: there were at least 30 scripts entered that were better than mine. Good news: I can now make plans for September-December.
Curiously, I was less affected than when I last applied in 2008. Back then the Academy seemed like the be-all and end-all of my ambitions. I'd done a successful trial script for Doctors, but couldn't get a story of the day pitch banked to save my life. I didn't have an agent, didn't have many prospects. It was crushing.
Fortunately, I had the Doctors shadow scheme ahead to help quell my disappointment. That led to my first commission in 2009, and things have snowballed from there. I now have an agent, three eps of Doctors to my name and have written five eps of Nina and the Neurons, due for broadcast on CBeebies this year.
The Academy is no longer the sole focus of my ambitions. Getting in would be a brilliant turbo-boost, accelerating me from 30 minute to hour-long drama. It's a big leap, and one not easily made. The Academy would have helped with that transition, giving me direct access to the likes of Casualty and Holby City.
But the Academy is not the only way to make a great leap forwards. Writing a great, original spec script can get you noticed. If you live in Wales, Scotland or Ireland, you could target one of the drama series made locally. The BBC runs shadow schemes for all its continuing drama series, in addition to the Academy.
Don't forget radio drama, a great place to hone your craft as a writer. The BBC commissions dozens of new scribes every year for that medium. One credit there makes you a more credible prospect. And there are plenty of other schemes and competitions, like Get A Squiggle On and the Red Planet Prize.
If you pin all your hopes on a single opportunity like the Academy, it's like staking your mortgage on a longshot at the Grand National. A few people end up smiling, but most lost out. So for everyone who got their rejection emails yesterday, I know exactly how you feel. It's time to shrug, and move to the next thing.
Onwards!
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Writers' Academy, Inspector Morse, other stuff
The good news is I'm on the longlist for this year's BBC Writers' Academy. From the 495 applicants, 156 made the longlist. These are selected after reading the first ten pages of every single applicants' writing samples. The bad news? There's a long way and many flaming hoops to get through before eight are chosen for this year's intake.
I wasn't expected an email about this yesterday. Without wishing to sound too cocky, I was pretty sure my first ten pages were good enough to get past the first hurdle. I knew those who didn't make the cut could expect a 'Welcome to Dumpsville, Population: You' email by the end of this week. I didn't know the longlist got a good news email.
So when the message turned up in my inbox, it created a few moments of oh shit angst. With a templated email getting fired off to so many people simultaneously, there's nowt to indicate whether the contents are good news or ill. I clicked through, heart in my mouth a little bit, and got the good news - I was on the longlist. Huzzah.
Several other people I know also made the cut - my fellow Doctors writers Denise Watson and Martin Day, along with a classmate from Screen Academy Scotland, Ronnie Macintosh. At this stage, I'd expect all of us to sail through, unless someone had a bad day or submitted a sample that didn't prove its worth in the first ten pages.
Now the hard work really begins for those selecting this year's applicants, as all 156 scripts get complete reads. You can write a brilliant first ten pages, but that's no guarantee the rest of your script will deliver on the promises made by that opening. The first ten pages need to set up the world, and pose the big dramatic question.
You expect them to introduce all the main characters, establish the tone and suggest the script's narrative position. If it's the pilot for a series, those first ten pages should also get the format locked down. The reader won't know everything yet, far from it, but they should have a sense the writer knows where this is all headed.
The rest of the script determines whether or not you can chew what you've bitten off in those first ten pages. Does the dialogue continue to spark and zing? Are the characters consistent and well observed? Does the ending pay off the inciting incident? Is it moral, or ironic? Central characters - do they change or learn?
Are the stakes big enough? Does the structure work? Does the writer have something to say? Is their script purposeful? Are they able to create a thematic structure that resonates through the whole narrative? Why should a reader care about anything that happens in the story? Do you want to know what happens next? Is it worth reading?
The Academy team now ploughs through all 156 writing samples from the longlist. From that somewhere between 20 and 30 people usually get invited to one-day workshops in London. After lots of collaborative and writing exercises, the shortlist is cut to between 12 and 16 people for the final interviews. From them, eight are chosen.
I last applied for the Academy in 2008. I made the longlist and was later told my writing sample was liked, but too soapy and not bold enough. [It was the pilot for a continuing drama about two families on a single street in Glasgow during the Second World War. Definitely soapy, and over-stuffed with characters. Live and learn.]
I'd love to go one better and be invited to the workshop day. Having written three eps of Doctors, I've learned an awful lot since 2008 and would like to believe that's reflected in my writing sample this time round. It's not perfect - there are some structural issues that need sorting - but still an improvement on my last sample.
Now the longlist of 156 has been announced, all goes quiet. We won't hear until late June at the earliest about workshop invites. So the best thing to do is forget about the Academy and press on with other writing projects. The next step is in the hands of others, nothing more I can do to influence its outcome. Shrug and move on.
Today's target is finishing my text for the fifth edition of The Complete Inspector Morse. The new version is with a new publisher, Titan Books, who took over the list of previous publisher Reynolds and Hearn. Happily, this edition offers me the chance to pull a lot of gaps I'd spotted in past volumes and bring it right up to date.
I wasn't very happy with the fourth edition, which sort of stumbled out after some miscommunications with the publisher. It included some new text, but only a fraction of all the material I had intended to add, amend or update. Happily, this new edition offers a chance to correct that and create was planned as the definitive Morse guide.
Well, it would have been. But the news that Colin Dexter and ITV are in discussions about a one-off, young Morse drama set during the character's time as an undergraduate at Oxford has opened the door for further updates. It remains to be seen if the proposed project happens. For a dead character, Morse does keep making comebacks.
One thing this new edition of The Complete Inspector Morse won't cover is the Lewis spin-off TV series, aside from the 2006 pilot. The adventures of Inspector Lewis and Sergeant Hathaway have now filled twenty episodes. There will soon be enough material for a standalone volume - The Complete Inspector Lewis, perhaps? Time will tell.
So today is about finishing off Morse. Then I need to be looking forwards. I've been neglecting several projects to concentrate on my Academy script and the Morse tome. After today I'll be able to shift focus to new areas. Plus I've got a holiday coming up, assuming volcanic ash clouds let me leave the country. Onwards!
I wasn't expected an email about this yesterday. Without wishing to sound too cocky, I was pretty sure my first ten pages were good enough to get past the first hurdle. I knew those who didn't make the cut could expect a 'Welcome to Dumpsville, Population: You' email by the end of this week. I didn't know the longlist got a good news email.
So when the message turned up in my inbox, it created a few moments of oh shit angst. With a templated email getting fired off to so many people simultaneously, there's nowt to indicate whether the contents are good news or ill. I clicked through, heart in my mouth a little bit, and got the good news - I was on the longlist. Huzzah.
Several other people I know also made the cut - my fellow Doctors writers Denise Watson and Martin Day, along with a classmate from Screen Academy Scotland, Ronnie Macintosh. At this stage, I'd expect all of us to sail through, unless someone had a bad day or submitted a sample that didn't prove its worth in the first ten pages.
Now the hard work really begins for those selecting this year's applicants, as all 156 scripts get complete reads. You can write a brilliant first ten pages, but that's no guarantee the rest of your script will deliver on the promises made by that opening. The first ten pages need to set up the world, and pose the big dramatic question.
You expect them to introduce all the main characters, establish the tone and suggest the script's narrative position. If it's the pilot for a series, those first ten pages should also get the format locked down. The reader won't know everything yet, far from it, but they should have a sense the writer knows where this is all headed.
The rest of the script determines whether or not you can chew what you've bitten off in those first ten pages. Does the dialogue continue to spark and zing? Are the characters consistent and well observed? Does the ending pay off the inciting incident? Is it moral, or ironic? Central characters - do they change or learn?
Are the stakes big enough? Does the structure work? Does the writer have something to say? Is their script purposeful? Are they able to create a thematic structure that resonates through the whole narrative? Why should a reader care about anything that happens in the story? Do you want to know what happens next? Is it worth reading?
The Academy team now ploughs through all 156 writing samples from the longlist. From that somewhere between 20 and 30 people usually get invited to one-day workshops in London. After lots of collaborative and writing exercises, the shortlist is cut to between 12 and 16 people for the final interviews. From them, eight are chosen.
I last applied for the Academy in 2008. I made the longlist and was later told my writing sample was liked, but too soapy and not bold enough. [It was the pilot for a continuing drama about two families on a single street in Glasgow during the Second World War. Definitely soapy, and over-stuffed with characters. Live and learn.]
I'd love to go one better and be invited to the workshop day. Having written three eps of Doctors, I've learned an awful lot since 2008 and would like to believe that's reflected in my writing sample this time round. It's not perfect - there are some structural issues that need sorting - but still an improvement on my last sample.
Now the longlist of 156 has been announced, all goes quiet. We won't hear until late June at the earliest about workshop invites. So the best thing to do is forget about the Academy and press on with other writing projects. The next step is in the hands of others, nothing more I can do to influence its outcome. Shrug and move on.
Today's target is finishing my text for the fifth edition of The Complete Inspector Morse. The new version is with a new publisher, Titan Books, who took over the list of previous publisher Reynolds and Hearn. Happily, this edition offers me the chance to pull a lot of gaps I'd spotted in past volumes and bring it right up to date.
I wasn't very happy with the fourth edition, which sort of stumbled out after some miscommunications with the publisher. It included some new text, but only a fraction of all the material I had intended to add, amend or update. Happily, this new edition offers a chance to correct that and create was planned as the definitive Morse guide.
Well, it would have been. But the news that Colin Dexter and ITV are in discussions about a one-off, young Morse drama set during the character's time as an undergraduate at Oxford has opened the door for further updates. It remains to be seen if the proposed project happens. For a dead character, Morse does keep making comebacks.
One thing this new edition of The Complete Inspector Morse won't cover is the Lewis spin-off TV series, aside from the 2006 pilot. The adventures of Inspector Lewis and Sergeant Hathaway have now filled twenty episodes. There will soon be enough material for a standalone volume - The Complete Inspector Lewis, perhaps? Time will tell.
So today is about finishing off Morse. Then I need to be looking forwards. I've been neglecting several projects to concentrate on my Academy script and the Morse tome. After today I'll be able to shift focus to new areas. Plus I've got a holiday coming up, assuming volcanic ash clouds let me leave the country. Onwards!
Tuesday, May 03, 2011
Blog Post #1981: The legacy of Hill Street Blues
If I could travel back in time to write for any TV drama, Hill Street Blues would be top of my list. Not that I'm anywhere near good enough for the US police procedural, but because I have such an abiding admiration for the series. It's been a major influence on my writing and is a big part of why I enjoy ensemble TV drama so much.
Hill Street Blues hit US TV early in 1981 to critical acclaim and audience apathy. It went against the grain by adopting documentary techniques - lots of hand-held camera work, overlapping dialogue and in your face narrative viewpoints - designed to give the drama immediacy, thrusting those watching into the middle of the action.
This was revolutionary 30 years ago, now it's become a style choice. But the reason Hill Street Blues endures [for me, anyway] is the writing and the characters. The sprawling cast, all with distinct attitudes and voices. The multi-stranded tapesty of plots woven by each episode. The willingness to show human flaws and frailties.
Plus there's a seam of dark, bleak humour that runs through the series [the David Milch factor, perhaps?]. My favourite Hill Street Blues sequence comes on the death of a series regular. The police spread the character's ashes on the streets, fulfilling their last wishes. Soon after a sweeping machine wishes the ashes down a drain.
Last Friday I submitted my application for the BBC Writers' Academy. My sample script was The Specials, an ensemble TV drama about special constables in Edinburgh. I won't make any claims of greatness [never invite yourself to a banquet of humble pie and hubris], but my pilot script tips its hat to the greatness of Hill Street Blues.
Applications for the academy close this Thursday. About 500 people apply most years. An initial sift will take those numbers down to around 150 by the end of May. In early July the top 30 or so will be invited for workshops in London. From these people perhaps 12-15 get interviewed for the eight places on this year's academy.
Get in and you undergo an intensive, 13-week experience learning to write for BBC continuing dramas Casualty, EastEnders, Holby City and Doctors. Survive the academy and you write one episode for all four shows in a twelve month period. You can get on each show without the academy, but it's the fast-track to tackling them all.
The fact I've written three broadcast episodes of Doctors is neither here nor there when it comes to selection for the academy. You need a professional writing credit to apply, but after that it's the quality of your writing sample that determines whether or not you at least make it to the workshop phase of the selection process.
I won't know about the success or failure of my application until the end of May at the earliest. In the meantime I'll be watching all four shows to immerse myself in the way they tell stories [plus the BBC Scotland continuing drama River City, which I watch every week anyway]. Good luck to all who apply for the academy. Onwards!
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
My report card for 2010 - part 2
There's a lot of things I didn't do, or choose not to do this year. I stopped writing prose fiction after getting mucked about royally for much of 2008 on two proposed novels. To be honest, I haven't missed it. Teaching has filled that space, perhaps. I still have novels I want to write, but for now I'm enjoying other media too much.
I've also gotten out of the comics writing habit. Must be nearly two years since I scripted a new adventure for the Phantom. It got lost in the shuffle, thanks to teaching and TV drama commissions. But I'm working on a couple of story pitches this week, so it's likely I'll be squeezing some comics writing into 2011.
Didn't do a lot of non-fiction during 2010. The publisher of The Complete Inspector Morse sold its list to another company and I've been in discussions with them about an updated edition. There's been a lot of Morse activity, with eight new eps of Lewis [plus four more next spring], and a Morse stage. So that's another project for 2011.
I started a new TV drama calling card script, but it got sidelined by pressing deadlines for paying gigs. That has to change next year. My present calling card isn't bad, but needs rewriting. Plus it's a period piece. Downton Abbey may have taken the curse off period drama, but only if you've got big name talent attached to it.
My new spec is a contemporary piece, a project I'm really passionate about. Being away from it for several months has given me a clearer perspective [as is often the case]. Suspect that when I revisit it, I'll find it's over-stuffed with storylines and needs paring back to give the characters some room to breath, to establish themselves.
I marked a lot of student work in recent weeks. Nothing like seeing the flaws in somebody else's story to make you think on the niggling issues of your own. When in doubt, I've a tendency to add extra plotlines and story threads, rather than digging deeper into the characters I've got, their attitudes, their needs, wants and flaws.
So I have to keep that at the forefront of my mind when I return to my spec. Happily, it's got no further than the scene by scene. I can take it back to treatment stage, strip away the extraneous crapola and get to the heart of my characters. That's where I need to make the writing shine for the calling card to work on my behalf.
What else didn't I do in 2010? Didn't apply for the BBC Writers' Academy. Agonised long and hard about that decision. I knew I needed a new writing sample and didn't have one that felt good enough to submit, for a start. My knowledge of Holby, Casualty and EastEnders was a bit rusty, so that was another factor against going for it.
Getting in the academy is one in 100 odds. In the unlikely event I ever did get in, it would mean three months living hundreds of miles away from home with no chance of commuting. It would mean giving up family, friends and teaching. It would mean writing Doctors, Holby, Casualty and EastEnders - and nothing else. Total commitment.
The academy route isn't the only way forward. I got on to Doctors without it, and am making progress with my career goals, my ambitions. But I'm taking the long, slow route. Getting in the academy effectively turbo-charges parts of your writing career, offers shortcuts that circumvent the long, slow route. It's an alluring option.
In the next month or two I need to make my decision again - go for the academy in 2011, or stick with my own path. Guess that's a watch this space not. In the meantime, I need to set myself some goals for the coming year. Can't guarantee they'll all be specific, measurable and the rest of the SMART acronym, but I'll do my best.
So, what are my key objectives for 2011?
1. Write a new calling card TV drama script.
2. Get at least one new commission for Doctors.
3. Secure a commission for children's TV.
4. Write a feature screenplay.
The calling card TV drama script and screenplay are done to me. The commissioned-based goals do rely on other people for the vital yes, but will only happen if I devote time, wit and creative energy to preparation and securing opportunities. All these are achievable, but require hard work and discipline. Twas always thus. Onwards!
I've also gotten out of the comics writing habit. Must be nearly two years since I scripted a new adventure for the Phantom. It got lost in the shuffle, thanks to teaching and TV drama commissions. But I'm working on a couple of story pitches this week, so it's likely I'll be squeezing some comics writing into 2011.
Didn't do a lot of non-fiction during 2010. The publisher of The Complete Inspector Morse sold its list to another company and I've been in discussions with them about an updated edition. There's been a lot of Morse activity, with eight new eps of Lewis [plus four more next spring], and a Morse stage. So that's another project for 2011.
I started a new TV drama calling card script, but it got sidelined by pressing deadlines for paying gigs. That has to change next year. My present calling card isn't bad, but needs rewriting. Plus it's a period piece. Downton Abbey may have taken the curse off period drama, but only if you've got big name talent attached to it.
My new spec is a contemporary piece, a project I'm really passionate about. Being away from it for several months has given me a clearer perspective [as is often the case]. Suspect that when I revisit it, I'll find it's over-stuffed with storylines and needs paring back to give the characters some room to breath, to establish themselves.
I marked a lot of student work in recent weeks. Nothing like seeing the flaws in somebody else's story to make you think on the niggling issues of your own. When in doubt, I've a tendency to add extra plotlines and story threads, rather than digging deeper into the characters I've got, their attitudes, their needs, wants and flaws.
So I have to keep that at the forefront of my mind when I return to my spec. Happily, it's got no further than the scene by scene. I can take it back to treatment stage, strip away the extraneous crapola and get to the heart of my characters. That's where I need to make the writing shine for the calling card to work on my behalf.
What else didn't I do in 2010? Didn't apply for the BBC Writers' Academy. Agonised long and hard about that decision. I knew I needed a new writing sample and didn't have one that felt good enough to submit, for a start. My knowledge of Holby, Casualty and EastEnders was a bit rusty, so that was another factor against going for it.
Getting in the academy is one in 100 odds. In the unlikely event I ever did get in, it would mean three months living hundreds of miles away from home with no chance of commuting. It would mean giving up family, friends and teaching. It would mean writing Doctors, Holby, Casualty and EastEnders - and nothing else. Total commitment.
The academy route isn't the only way forward. I got on to Doctors without it, and am making progress with my career goals, my ambitions. But I'm taking the long, slow route. Getting in the academy effectively turbo-charges parts of your writing career, offers shortcuts that circumvent the long, slow route. It's an alluring option.
In the next month or two I need to make my decision again - go for the academy in 2011, or stick with my own path. Guess that's a watch this space not. In the meantime, I need to set myself some goals for the coming year. Can't guarantee they'll all be specific, measurable and the rest of the SMART acronym, but I'll do my best.
So, what are my key objectives for 2011?
1. Write a new calling card TV drama script.
2. Get at least one new commission for Doctors.
3. Secure a commission for children's TV.
4. Write a feature screenplay.
The calling card TV drama script and screenplay are done to me. The commissioned-based goals do rely on other people for the vital yes, but will only happen if I devote time, wit and creative energy to preparation and securing opportunities. All these are achievable, but require hard work and discipline. Twas always thus. Onwards!
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