Thursday was a hard day. There was a doctor's appointment, which wasn't that hard in and of itself. But then traffic was a bummer. Then there was a long bank line. And then a conference call basically imploded a script I worked very hard on.
These are the things that happen; nothing to be done about them. But part of working for yourself and largely by yourself is listening to the rhythms of your heart and body and mind, and following them.
Knowing that next week's plate involved a fairly major rethink and reimagining, I decided that this long weekend would be about servicing the other tendrils of my life. My parents have returned from their Snowbird perch in Florida, so Easter Sunday will be built around dinner there. It's also Little Sister Number One's birthday, so familial celebrations abound.
The rest is reading and grocery shopping and trying to free my mind (so my ass can follow.)
There's also a comical cat-and-mouse game that involves dodging emails and calls from my partner in the above-mentioned project. "I need not to think about this this weekend" should be a clear enough request -- but it isn't. If I do manage to keep my vow and not work this weekend, it'll be only the third weekend in two years I haven't worked. There's always pressure to keep working. And when you know you need a break, sometimes the only thing to do is unplug the phone and ignore the email.
(Aside: I remember so well the first apartment I had without roommates, the first time I ever lived alone. For about two months I'd get home from work and sit down on the couch and just marvel at the fact that if I didn't want to see anyone or talk to anyone, I didn't have to. And I'm an extrovert. Or I mostly am. But maybe even then I was a writer.)
I do all these thigns knowing that they are, in a sense, doomed to fail. Because amidst the not-thinking-about it and ignoring the hectoring emails and phone calls, there are things that creep in, unbidden. There's the start awake at three a.m. where you realize you're thinking about your characters. There's the moment watching Red Eye -- a movie that could not be further away from the genre and story that I'm working on, where I realize I need to rewind the DVD because something got sparked and I've gone somewhere else for two minutes: thinking about story.
I call this churn. Churn is the thing that all writers have to endure and embrace in loving and loathing moments. It's the thing that gets you over the hump, and it's the thing that makes taking the weekend off well nigh impossible.
Churn has ruined relationships. It's made me seem distant and disinterested. There's time when I think Churn is almost a low grade mental illness. But it's not. It's simply process. But try explaining to your spouse or lover that that faraway look in your eyes is just you working when you're not working. Writers who are in happy, functioning relationships fascinate me. They really do. I can't help but feel that half the day I walk around with this look on my face like a toddler who's making dookie. I know. Nice image. Pretty hot.
Anyway, amidst the not-thinking-about- writing, there's the oh- God-you-haven't- started-your-taxes (April 30 is the magic day in Canada.) Then there's little other things like the paper. I had a funny thought reading the Arts Section in the Globe & Mail today. It was very unsatisfying -- it has been the last three weeks running... and it occurred to me why.
Flipping through, every article in the Globe Review is about the Establishment. The Canadian Establishment. There's Atom Egoyan. There's Don McKellar. Another profile on Bonnie Fuller -- Jesus. (Nice language for Easter, I know, but c'mon.) When I read the NY Times Arts & Leisure section on Sunday, there's always a profile of someone interesting who's unknown to me. An up-and-comer. I read The Playlist and learn about musicians I haven't heard. I read a profile of a writer I don't know. I don't know why the Times can do it, but Canada's National Newspaper can't. Maybe because they're too busy taking articles from the New York Times. Sigh.
Anyway -- the coffee is gone. The paper is dull. The sun is shining and it's a beautiful clear day, so it's probably time to get out and not work some more.
One other thing happened this week. And this one was pretty good. I was on a panel at a University writing class. The three of us (another writer, and an agent) were critiquing the graduating students' writing project, which was a bible and scripts for an original series. There were about five groups, and they all had strengths and weaknesses in their work. But as the class was coming to a close, I said something to them that I really believe. I told them that as writers, the one thing that they had to offer was whatever made them unique. It wasn't knowing about pop culture. It wasn't being clever or funny or even a good writer -- though all those help. I said that the thing that mattered most was that they looked at the world like no one else. And so the best thing they could do was go out and live an interesting life; to get outside their wheelhouse and comfort zone, go places you never thought you would go, listen to music that you've never heard before. Read books blindly. And love the same way.
After the class was over, a couple of students came up and thanked me and asked if I knew that this was their last class. I shook my head 'no.' And one of them, kinda choked up, said that that advice was the last thing they learned in University.
That was pretty cool. Now I guess I gotta get out of this condo, and practice what I preach.
Hope you're enjoying your weekend. Happy Easter, Happy Passover, Happy Spring to all.
Saturday, April 15, 2006
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Fred Goss Speaks! Re: Sons & Daughters
But not to me.
Diane Kristine is the kind of fan you want to have. Her blog, Unified Theory of Nothing Much (it's in the sidebar) is a consistently good read by a sometime writer, journalist and fan. Diane is a self-admitted House obsessive, and her posts on each episode are invariably entertaining -- a superior mix of practical analysis and sheer delighted crushing.
She also shows the gumption to go out there and get the kind of interviews that might seem self serving if she was a baby writer or screenwriting aspirant. I learn a lot from these periodic interviews and I'm sure you will too.
Her latest is with Fred Goss, co-creator and star of Sons & Daughters. There's some great insight into how the show works, where he comes from (he's an editor; I knew it!) and a few choice thoughts about the show's reception and future. He sounds like an extraordinarily evenhanded bloke. I hope his show gets another shot.
Diane has generously and lovingly posted the full Fred Goss interview here.
You may notice I've been jazz-handsing the last few days. It's been extremely busy. I'm juggling the work on my new show, ATR, as well as doing a writing room on another project (which was loads of fun! Seriously!) and today, I spoke as part of a panel to a very fresh-faced, kind, and remarkably frightened-looking group of graduating University TV writing students.
I hope once I get tomorrow's banking, conference call, doctor's appointment and errands out of the way, I'll regroup and have more to say. As me Ga once said, "all in good time."
I know someone else said that first -- but she's the one who said it to me.
Diane Kristine is the kind of fan you want to have. Her blog, Unified Theory of Nothing Much (it's in the sidebar) is a consistently good read by a sometime writer, journalist and fan. Diane is a self-admitted House obsessive, and her posts on each episode are invariably entertaining -- a superior mix of practical analysis and sheer delighted crushing.
She also shows the gumption to go out there and get the kind of interviews that might seem self serving if she was a baby writer or screenwriting aspirant. I learn a lot from these periodic interviews and I'm sure you will too.
Her latest is with Fred Goss, co-creator and star of Sons & Daughters. There's some great insight into how the show works, where he comes from (he's an editor; I knew it!) and a few choice thoughts about the show's reception and future. He sounds like an extraordinarily evenhanded bloke. I hope his show gets another shot.
Diane has generously and lovingly posted the full Fred Goss interview here.
You may notice I've been jazz-handsing the last few days. It's been extremely busy. I'm juggling the work on my new show, ATR, as well as doing a writing room on another project (which was loads of fun! Seriously!) and today, I spoke as part of a panel to a very fresh-faced, kind, and remarkably frightened-looking group of graduating University TV writing students.
I hope once I get tomorrow's banking, conference call, doctor's appointment and errands out of the way, I'll regroup and have more to say. As me Ga once said, "all in good time."
I know someone else said that first -- but she's the one who said it to me.
Sons & Daughters: Another View from South Dakota Dark
I've been reading and enjoying Todd's blog, South Dakota Dark for a while now. He thinks a lot about TV. There should be more of us who do that. Check out these thoughts on Sons & Daughters. His thoughts about the use of improv in the show, and how it may have been ill-served by ABC's promo department are right on the money.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Canada-Russia '72
To any Canadian alive at the time, it's as iconic (and a lot more pleasurable) as "where were you when Kennedy was shot?" Here the question is "Where were you when Paul Henderson scored against the Red Army team in Game 8 in Moscow?"
Okay, not as catchy. But it's a revelatory moment in Canadian history and nationhood, believe it or not. As well as one of the few common touchstones to span about three generations.
There have been documentaries galore on the Summit series of 1972, which pitted Canadian-born NHL all stars like Phil Esposito, Bobby Clarke, Henderson, Ken Dryden et al vs the Russian national team -- but there has never been a movie or miniseries on the event.
It's a daunting prospect, to be sure. You're venturing into the land of cherished myth. There are people who obsess over what the sticks and the skates look like, what every play looked like. The DVD of all 7 games, in their grainy videotape glory, is a top seller here in Canada. (I even got it for my birthday last year.)
So? How'd it do?
Pretty good, all told. Canada-Russia '72, which aired Sunday and Monday nights on CBC in Canada, took a fly-on-the-wall documentary style to explore the background and foreground stories of the 8 game series that shook up sleepy Canada and the Soviet behemoth. The details were right, and the drama was there. Surprisingly -- for a story where everyone knows how it's going to turn out -- the whole thing was tense.
Plus, the series (and the series) reveals to me something profound about the Canadian character that screenwriters here ignore at their peril.
In the series in 1972, as the series shows, the Canadian team went in heavily favored, and was quickly shocked and humbled by the speed, seriousness, and skill of the Russian players. The first few games in Canada went so roughly that by the time the team stepped on the ice in Vancouver for the last game, the mostly-Canadian crowd cheered the Soviets and booed the Canadians.
The Americans reading this just went, "wha?" That's right. They booed the home team.
It's only in Russia, when the Canadian squad became the underdogs, that Canadians rallied 'round the squad, as they went on to win the last three games straight, despite constant bad talk, and worse officiating.
Being the underdog is an essential component of Canadian storytelling. Canadians tend to despise people who make too much of themselves, who talk too loud and claim too much. Canadians are far more fond of Conrad Black now that he's disgraced than they ever were of him at his peak of power. The series also subtly makes the point that hockey is working class: the middle class, one character says, will never forgive the Canadians if they win -- because they're loutish and rough in play. But the working class -- that's another story.
We don't talk a lot about class in Canada. Mainly, I think, because those of us who are in the media elite certainly aspire to, if not always achieve -- a kind of bourgeois membership in the club. And that's where our disconnect comes.
A cherished part of American myth -- and sadly, it seems more and more of a myth these days -- is that anyone can make it. Americans venerate and lionize the little guy who works himself up, who never gives up and thinks he can get to the top. But Canadians have always been more pessimistic. That's why they got behind nationalized health care. The mentality here is more accurately: sometimes the deck is stacked against you and you can't win, and the real victory is to survive and provide for yourself and your family while maintaining your dignity. (Peace order & Good Government vs. Life, Liberty & the pursuit of happiness.)
Geopolitically, that kind of reflects the relative positions of the two countries next to each other. Besides the excitement of the story, Canada - Russia '72 ultimately worked, I think, because it understood that. It got something about the character of Canadians that the rich kids and middle class types trying to make Canadian stories don't always get.
It's no surprise to me. One of the creative forces behind the miniseries, Barrie Dunn, is also one of the leading lights behind Trailer Park Boys -- another shaggy Canadian hit that celebrates working class people. Corner Gas, too, when you think about it, has very little highfalutin content or character.
I haven't seen any overnight ratings for the miniseries, which makes me worry that it didn't do too well. I hope that's not the case. I think there's a lesson to be learned from this miniseries: not just by CBC who paid for it and showed it, but by all who try to create cultural products in this country.
CBC's two for two in their recent miniseries: Tommy Douglas and Hockey. Who says national mythologies can't sell?
Okay, not as catchy. But it's a revelatory moment in Canadian history and nationhood, believe it or not. As well as one of the few common touchstones to span about three generations.
There have been documentaries galore on the Summit series of 1972, which pitted Canadian-born NHL all stars like Phil Esposito, Bobby Clarke, Henderson, Ken Dryden et al vs the Russian national team -- but there has never been a movie or miniseries on the event.
It's a daunting prospect, to be sure. You're venturing into the land of cherished myth. There are people who obsess over what the sticks and the skates look like, what every play looked like. The DVD of all 7 games, in their grainy videotape glory, is a top seller here in Canada. (I even got it for my birthday last year.)
So? How'd it do?
Pretty good, all told. Canada-Russia '72, which aired Sunday and Monday nights on CBC in Canada, took a fly-on-the-wall documentary style to explore the background and foreground stories of the 8 game series that shook up sleepy Canada and the Soviet behemoth. The details were right, and the drama was there. Surprisingly -- for a story where everyone knows how it's going to turn out -- the whole thing was tense.
Plus, the series (and the series) reveals to me something profound about the Canadian character that screenwriters here ignore at their peril.
In the series in 1972, as the series shows, the Canadian team went in heavily favored, and was quickly shocked and humbled by the speed, seriousness, and skill of the Russian players. The first few games in Canada went so roughly that by the time the team stepped on the ice in Vancouver for the last game, the mostly-Canadian crowd cheered the Soviets and booed the Canadians.
The Americans reading this just went, "wha?" That's right. They booed the home team.
It's only in Russia, when the Canadian squad became the underdogs, that Canadians rallied 'round the squad, as they went on to win the last three games straight, despite constant bad talk, and worse officiating.
Being the underdog is an essential component of Canadian storytelling. Canadians tend to despise people who make too much of themselves, who talk too loud and claim too much. Canadians are far more fond of Conrad Black now that he's disgraced than they ever were of him at his peak of power. The series also subtly makes the point that hockey is working class: the middle class, one character says, will never forgive the Canadians if they win -- because they're loutish and rough in play. But the working class -- that's another story.
We don't talk a lot about class in Canada. Mainly, I think, because those of us who are in the media elite certainly aspire to, if not always achieve -- a kind of bourgeois membership in the club. And that's where our disconnect comes.
A cherished part of American myth -- and sadly, it seems more and more of a myth these days -- is that anyone can make it. Americans venerate and lionize the little guy who works himself up, who never gives up and thinks he can get to the top. But Canadians have always been more pessimistic. That's why they got behind nationalized health care. The mentality here is more accurately: sometimes the deck is stacked against you and you can't win, and the real victory is to survive and provide for yourself and your family while maintaining your dignity. (Peace order & Good Government vs. Life, Liberty & the pursuit of happiness.)
Geopolitically, that kind of reflects the relative positions of the two countries next to each other. Besides the excitement of the story, Canada - Russia '72 ultimately worked, I think, because it understood that. It got something about the character of Canadians that the rich kids and middle class types trying to make Canadian stories don't always get.
It's no surprise to me. One of the creative forces behind the miniseries, Barrie Dunn, is also one of the leading lights behind Trailer Park Boys -- another shaggy Canadian hit that celebrates working class people. Corner Gas, too, when you think about it, has very little highfalutin content or character.
I haven't seen any overnight ratings for the miniseries, which makes me worry that it didn't do too well. I hope that's not the case. I think there's a lesson to be learned from this miniseries: not just by CBC who paid for it and showed it, but by all who try to create cultural products in this country.
CBC's two for two in their recent miniseries: Tommy Douglas and Hockey. Who says national mythologies can't sell?
Damnit.
A whole post on Canada-Russia '72 -- the miniseries, didn't get posted.
Blogger, you suck.
Hopefully it's on my other computer and I'll try to get it up later.
In the meantime, anyone have a good recipe they'd like to share?
Blogger, you suck.
Hopefully it's on my other computer and I'll try to get it up later.
In the meantime, anyone have a good recipe they'd like to share?
Monday, April 10, 2006
Dead Things Blind Item
Guess what? Your intrepid Stickster has some good news. I have, through that long and winding, thorny, professional road, been privileged to watch almost the entire first season of a new Canadian TV show that will hit air this fall.
It's good. Actually, it's pretty great.
Add to that a couple of shows that I've read scripts for, or helped out on. One's on the verge of a pickup, (C'mon already. Brilliance is like a flower...water it with your greenlight!) and the other's in active development. All three are actually no-bullshit, promise ya, cross my heart and hope to spit laugh out loud funny.)
In other words, there is the potential for at least three -- count'em -- three good original comedies on Canadian airwaves later in 2006 or 2007.
Could it be so? Could it be?
It's good. Actually, it's pretty great.
Add to that a couple of shows that I've read scripts for, or helped out on. One's on the verge of a pickup, (C'mon already. Brilliance is like a flower...water it with your greenlight!) and the other's in active development. All three are actually no-bullshit, promise ya, cross my heart and hope to spit laugh out loud funny.)
In other words, there is the potential for at least three -- count'em -- three good original comedies on Canadian airwaves later in 2006 or 2007.
Could it be so? Could it be?
Sunday, April 9, 2006
Does Scrubs Point The Way?
Interesting article by Joe Rhodes in Sunday's New York Times about Scrubs.
A few edited excerpts:
Scrubs would probably be canceled except for two things: it does well in 18-49 viewers, and NBC is dead last (which is why they're taking chances on shows like Earl and The Office.)
The continued, unlikely-as-it-is tenacity of Scrubs raises, at least to me, a tantalizing possibility: have we seen the end of the search for the broad-based comedy? Are even Networks like ABC, NBC, and CBS going to start putting up shows that are designed to draw loyal and intense viewers rather than lots of eyeyballs?
Comedy has always been the hardest genre to sell to a wide audience, and these days it's well nigh impossible, because the fractionilaztion and fragmentation of culture means no one is playing with a common cultural mindset anymore.
Meanwhile, in Canada, we're trying (and failing) to capture that big broad-based comedy flag.
The question is -- is it a completely quixotic quest? Are we all seeking out the wrong thing, and chasing a model that no longer exists? Something to chew on, certainly.
A few edited excerpts:
"In the beginning we felt a lot of pressure to seek out mass appeal, which was tough," Mr. Lawrence said,...The article goes on to point out that Scrubs is an anomaly for another reason: since the relaxing of rules about Networks owning part of shows on their own networks, (Another gift from the U.S. government to big media companies... Gee swell, thanks guys) Scrubs is one of the few shows on NBC that NBC doesn't have a stake in: it's made by ABC, which means ABC reaps DVD sales money and NBC only makes money off ads.
"This year we decided to stop obsessing about how we can bring new people to the show," he continued. "We decided that this year, we'd just do what we wanted and hoped we would at least be proud of it, even if it never saw the light of day." ... The result is that "Scrubs," always a schizophrenic mix of cartoonish jokes, surrealist fantasy sequences and genuinely poignant life-or-death moments, has become even weirder, thick with inside jokes, psychotic monologues, a cappella singing in the elevator, bizarre secondary characters like the High-Fiving Surgeon, the Sweaty Lawyer and the Absent-Minded Morgue Attendant, and the continuing adventures of a megalomaniacal maintenance man who has crowned himself the King of Janitoria...
"Rather than trying to seek out new viewers, our survival technique was to try and hold on to the old ones," Mr. Lawrence said, acknowledging that the sudden switches from Looney Tunes to pathos can be jarring. "So now we do stuff that we know will make real fans of the show laugh, assuming they can find us. We're like 'The Simpsons' in that every episode has jokes that are only going to be funny to people that have watched at least 20 or 30 episodes of the show. We aren't writing for people that have turned this show on for the first time."
Curiously, this strategy appears to have brought in new viewers. After being held out of the NBC fall lineup (in spite of its four Emmy nominations last year), "Scrubs" returned in January, and in its first weeks had some of its highest ratings, averaging nearly 8 million viewers on Tuesday nights. And now against the daunting challenge of "American Idol," it has managed to maintain numbers comparable to last season.
Scrubs would probably be canceled except for two things: it does well in 18-49 viewers, and NBC is dead last (which is why they're taking chances on shows like Earl and The Office.)
The continued, unlikely-as-it-is tenacity of Scrubs raises, at least to me, a tantalizing possibility: have we seen the end of the search for the broad-based comedy? Are even Networks like ABC, NBC, and CBS going to start putting up shows that are designed to draw loyal and intense viewers rather than lots of eyeyballs?
Comedy has always been the hardest genre to sell to a wide audience, and these days it's well nigh impossible, because the fractionilaztion and fragmentation of culture means no one is playing with a common cultural mindset anymore.
Meanwhile, in Canada, we're trying (and failing) to capture that big broad-based comedy flag.
The question is -- is it a completely quixotic quest? Are we all seeking out the wrong thing, and chasing a model that no longer exists? Something to chew on, certainly.
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