I know! I shared that with my showrunner and my colleagues and we had a giggle.
I’m also amused at how he wants payment for his spec work if he’s gonna turn it around on a real schedule, how he wants special arrangements for his “very special real life” and how it appears that we need to pay him upfront. Sounds like he wants a contract, too. Funny, because I currently don’t have one. And, my pals at CBS? They’ve been working without one for a whole year… but because, you know, they’re whiny little writers, they chose to continue working under the basic agreement the union still had with CBS because they actually do love the work they do and the shows they work with and for.
As for Mr. Dio, I bet that if we paid him $1000 for his script, and then made a few hundred thousand dollars off it for the next ten years and he didn’t see a dime more, he’d be really pissed… But hey, maybe we don’t even need to pay him. We’re going to use it for promotional purposes, in the end, right? And it’s not like he owns the characters he’s going to write about anyway. That’s right, they belong to us, the studio. So, trust us, Dio, we’ll pay ya. And since you don’t HAVE a contract, you’re going to have to take our word for it, for now.
I’m an award-winning writer myself, yet I would never brag that I can whip up a production-quality TV script on the first try. Really good writers know their limitations, just as truly intelligent people do.
Besides, your earlier boast was that you could write a production-quality script on the grounds that (a) most people are idiots, and (b) you’re not. Moving the goalposts, are you?
BTW, one last thing… Declaring that most people are “idiots” isn’t very becoming. Have you ever stopped to think that you might be overestimating your own abilities? Have you ever considered that your comment might be overly harsh? To say that the vast majority of people are not merely unintelligent, but outright idiots… Well, I think that perhaps you should reconsider your estimations – not only of yourself, but of the rest of mankind.
Between me and you, I’ve taken to reading Dio’s posts in the voice of Comic Book Guy. It makes it so much more pleasant to read him. It’s like watching a “Simpsons” spinoff. Hey! You don’t suppose…
Anyone who isn’t busily engaged with dashing off a brilliant piece of writing in a brand-new format on the first try would do well to read this blog entry by the executive producer of Criminal Minds explaining from his point of view why the strike is not just necessary but basically obligatory. It sums up the major issues in an easy-to-digest style, and will be illuminating to anyone who’s still confused about what’s at stake here.
In the midst of all this, I think one thing should be clarified. The AMPTP is mis-named. It should be the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television FINANCIERS - not Producers. Most of the actual Producers in this business are folks who work obsessively and single-mindedly to get the product out there. For this, they make almost nothing up front and take a small percentage of the back end. The entities who are being struck are NOT Producers, they are almost entirely huge, faceless multi-national corporations that exist solely to accumulate more money and power. The suits that work for them are not lauded and given promotions for helping to create artistic successes, they are lauded and promoted for helping the corporations accumulate more money and power. Actual Producers have as little in common with these people as a midwife does with the Board of Directors of Kaiser Permanente.
I say if Dio wants to take 3 times as long as your average production script, the result should be 3 times better than average as well. I realize that’s a highly subjective measure, but I think we should at least expect something much more riveting than Everybody Loves Raymond.
A few years ago I won a pretty big emerging screenwriters award. Besides a huge chunk of change, the reward was getting doors opened to the industry. And now that those doors are opened, a small part of me regrets ever writing that script. As evidenced by this thread, writers are treated like shit. It’s like one constant first date where you’re trying to get into bed with someone who doesn’t really like you. Even if you’ve had a hit, you’re only as good as your next work. Everyone’s a critic, and few appreciate the skill it takes. Go ask a random person who their favorite actor is. Then ask them who their favorite screen/TV writer is. If you get something besides a blank stare, you win the prize.
Writers don’t produce anything? That’s like saying architects don’t produce anything. You can’t build a structure without blueprints. And like an architect, the writer is the first to blame when something goes wrong. Go into a Heroes or Lost thread and see who the criticism is aimed at. Yes, TV writing can be horrible, but that’s not necessarily due to the writers, it’s because of everyone who won’t leave the writers alone. Not enough romance for our women demographic, turn that character into a lady and have her fall in love with the protagonist. Can someone lose their house to a hurricane? Global warming is a big hot topic in the news, we need to seem relevant. Sam is demanding more air time, we need to work him in. Oh and make sure a Pepsi bottle is featured heavily in the plot, they’re sponsoring us this week. And so on.
If you want to give Dio the real experience, make him work with a team of a dozen other Dopers. Then give him “notes” that he must abide by. Then more notes after he’s done. Then watch him bitch when he says that it didn’t work out the way he wanted. And really, of all the writing tasks, you’ve probably given Dio the easiest. Write a script about an established show without any scrutiny. Well he’s right, anyone can do that. Now selling it, that’s the real test. Even if it turns out he’s a writing genius and creates great art, he’s only done one tenth of the work. You’re not making art here, you’re making a product. Even if you think it’s brilliant, it doesn’t mean it’ll sell. That’s why writers are demanding so much, because it’s such an uphill battle that when lightning strikes they want to cash in as much as possible. And tell me, if writers are so useless and ancillary, then why are we still producing Shakespeare?
Please move this to the Pit so I can say what I really want to say.
Sounds about right. My brother in law is trying to break into screenwriting. He and his friend were insanely busy working on perhaps a couple dozen revisions for the script of a pilot episode that ultimately was never made. They managed to get back the rights so they could pitch it elsewhere, which I understand is a relatively rare occurrence.
Why not give Diogenes 2 weeks, or something around that? He is right, it isn’t his job, he has other things to do.
I’m rather interested in how this turns out. To me, the writing of many shows seem rather lousy, and easy to equal, but I’m willing to consider that there is something I’ve missed. And Dio is even willing to write a script of House, which I think is one of the shows that has the best writing these days.
I’m still not sure he can write a script based on an established show. People guilty of narcissistic intellectual masturbation give me enough cause to wait and see. My idea was then to take his script, go through it like a network/marketing exec, go through it again like a story/continuity editor, hand him a pile of notes and have him rework it. Obviously, he doesn’t get a “real” timeline, because he has already stated he can’t do that. So, no reworks in 3 hours for him, I guess.
(Sidenote: How many of us write damned good scripts only to see something totally different after the director and the actors are done with it? Seriously. And you’re right, the freaking notes are enough to drive anyone to leave the gun and take the cannoli.)
Most people remember movies by who directed them and who starred in them. Few remember who wrote them. Seriously, most people out there don’t remember who won the Oscar for best screenplay last year and I’m pretty sure no one has any clue who fared well at the WGA awards.
I think he’s afraid you’ll pay what the script is worth.
The link in Cervaise’s post (#125) provides the most succinct explanation of residuals, I think:
Back in 2000/2001 when the Diamondbacks were making their (successful) world Series run, both the big guns, Curt Schilling and Randy Johnson, agreed to defer part of their astronomical salaries. Being hungry for a WS ring, they agreed to it to free up cash to bring in better players to back them up. The ploy worked, the 'Backs won the Series, but it is still being paid for. Same thing.
A little surprised Dio took the bait on that one…but should be fun to watch.
I can’t say I’m thrilled with the writers’ strike, but that has to do with an anti-union bias more than anything, really. But, since it doesn’t affect me one iota in my daily life (new episodes of The Office are a luxury, not a requirement, and I can finally catch up on my DVR, and then, maybe, that stack of books that mocks me), I can’t say I really care one way or the other.
I do have a couple of questions that I don’t think has been specifically addressed:
I assume the WGA has a fund for strike wages, although I can’t imagine it’s overly large at all. What happens to all the other jobs that end when production shuts down? Do the, say, camera operators and grips and whatever have a recourse for the money they’re now not making? Since they’re not “officially” on strike? Do their unions and guilds pick up the tab some? Is there hard feelings on the part of these workers towards the WGA because of this?
Also, and this is where my happily admitted absolute ignorance of How It Works In Hollywood comes in, is there any real reason why writers can’t negotiate individual contracts? Or would that pretty much cause the whole system to come crashing down?
All major producers have long ago agreed only to hire Writers Guild members. Remember, the Writers Guild is a guild, not a union. The difference? In order to work regularly, you need to join the Guild (A writer can get a small number of credits without being a Guild member – that’s how new people join – but after about three (or less), they are required to join if they want to do any more work).
Why did the producers agree to this? Because all the writers who can write good screenplays (or TV scripts) are in the guild. Without them, you’re stuck with amateurs and wannabes. And while you can probably get a good script or two out of those over the course of a year, they can’t produce the scripts in the quantity or quality needed for an entire TV season. Similarly, you might get a good script somewhere, but not enough for a full production schedule, and with no guarantee the writer could rewrite things on demand as necessary.
If the studios threw out the agreement and decided to hire on an individual basis, they’d be stuck with the writers who aren’t good enough to join the guild (Guild writers wouldn’t agree to it).
Great minds think alike: I was considering doing exactly the same thing. Assuming he writes an Office script, it would be stuff like:
“(1) Your cold open is too long. Shorten by half. (2) You go to the B plot too much in the second act. Restructure to include more A plot. (3) Also, the end of the second act is weak. Need more punch on the exit to commercial. (4) The exposition in the car scene in act four isn’t redundant. If we cut that scene in editing we’ll miss that plot point. Repeat the exposition somewhere else. (5) Ed Helms has a movie gig and is only available for half a day during our production week. Rewrite the B plot without him in it. (6) We like your idea for the Creed gag but we want to expand on it in a later episode. Come up with something else. That’s it for now, but we may have more in a bit. Get started and plan to have the rewrite done by 7:00 tomorrow morning.”
It would be even more realistic if all three of us did it, especially if the notes contradicted each other.
The number of times I’ve heard “I could write THAT” is staggering. Strangely, when challenged, I’ve never seen anyone rise to the occasion. And I’m generally talking single poems here, not a year’s worth of scripts.
And that’s just for a half-hour comedy, not an hour-long drama! Oh oh oh! Can we also make it so that we have a huge ensemble cast and our producer/production manager runs the ship in such a way that we shoot in tandem? Just to make it true to life, the producer/production manager also fails to advise the writers about who will truly be available when? Oh boy oh boy oh boy!
Let us also make sure that the network gets into a catfight with one of its product partners (think NBC and Apple) and suddenly half of your usual nifty props and tools aren’t available for a few weeks while we seek replacements.
OH! At the same time, we must be sure to please the censors. It’s amazing what they get irked by… it truly is. The network gets pissy about all SORTS of little things, including the amount of blood you can show, the amount of gore, the words you can use, who can be standing where and when, drug use, kids… oy!
Also of note: We (the fictional we) must meet certain guidelines this year: the network accepted some grant money saying we’d push a message of “SAY NO TO DRUUUUUUGS, KIIIIIIDS!” so we have to wrap our entire 5th episode around that message, even if it really didn’t suit the writers’ ideas. (Sorry guys. Have a nice overnight rewrite session! Sorry your kids have chickenpox… it’s still all due back for tomorrow morning.)
Welcome to our world.
All those who think it’s just a matter of sitting down and just writing dialog are welcome to go suck an electrified pickle. You have no clue what you’re talking about. First of all, “just writing dialog” is not as easy as it seems. Secondly, writing for a television show is a hell of a lot harder than you know – mostly because of all the extra stuff that’s piled onto the work. Thirdly, writers bust their asses to produce quality scripts. Once it’s off our tables, it goes through the hands of directors and actors. Ask any screenwriter: there are many times when we want to poke our eyes out after seeing what directors have done to our work.
Anyway. Enough spleen venting. I need more coffee before I go back to practicing my enunciation of the phrase: “Would you like fries with that?”
But hey, maybe we don’t even need to pay him. We’re going to use it for promotional purposes, in the end, right? And it’s not like he owns the characters he’s going to write about anyway. That’s right, they belong to us, the studio. So, trust us, Dio, we’ll pay ya. And since you don’t HAVE a contract, you’re going to have to take our word for it, for now.
