John August

Assistants

Doing right by assistants

Assistants, Follow Up

[This letter](https://johnaugust.com/2019/writers-pa-left-to-pick-up-the-tab) by a writers room PA who had to pay out of pocket for others’ lunches [struck a nerve](https://twitter.com/johnaugust/status/1188137612428500993). Scriptnotes producer Megana Rao has been reading many similar horror stories from assistants, but she’s also come across a few emails that demonstrate writers stepping up for their assistants.

Jordan writes:

> Back in 2016 I was working as a writers PA on a Fox show and it was a great experience. Even though I was just a PA, they allowed me to sit in the writers room while they worked and join them in the edit bay while they watched early cuts of episodes. I was even able to pitch, and a few of my jokes managed to make the final cut.

> I was paid minimum wage with no benefits and no box rental, but once my position wrapped, the writing staff pulled their money together to give me an envelope with $500 cash. They also did the same for the showrunner’s assistant and script coordinator. A few of the EPs also gifted us bottles of whiskey and custom t-shirts.

> It was a wonderful work experience, probably the best I’ll have in this industry, and I was very sad when Fox cancelled the show. I’m still friends with many of those on the writing staff and they’ve helped me since we parted ways.

> Circumstances made this a fairly stressful show for the EPs, but they never took it out on those of us at the bottom of the totem pole.

Showrunner Michael Green [has a formula](https://twitter.com/andmichaelgreen/status/1067885775134441477?s=21) for calculating how much a writers room should gift the assistant(s) at the holidays. (Most assistants don’t get paid for the two-week break.)

A frequent issue we’ve heard is that the hourly rate isn’t everything; for many assistants overtime is what makes the job survivable.

Violet writes:

> I started a job as a showrunner’s assistant on a network show in May of 2017. I made $15.14 an hour with a 60 hour a week guarantee.

> When the show was cancelled in the fall of 2018, I decided to stay with my (amazing and talented) boss under his studio overall deal. My hourly rate went up. HOWEVER, I was only allowed to work 40 hours a week. Yes, *allowed.* No overtime, period. Luckily, my boss helped mitigate some of the loss by paying me out of his own pocket. Even with my boss’s extra help, my salary still went down that year by $12,000!

> Recently, my boss’s show was picked up to series, and I was promoted to writers’ assistant. But the studio policy is to pay their writers’ assistants LESS than showrunners’ assistants, despite the fact that it is a promotion and a much more time-consuming job. My boss was able to fight for me to get a raise, but it was a fight. This is not exclusive to this particular studio, in fact, I’ve heard that my studio pays better than the other studios and streamers.

> The studios will also do a move on pilots where one assistant does multiple assistant jobs but only gets paid for one. For instance, I was the showrunner’s assistant on the pilot but also acted as script coordinator. During this time period, because the show was not picked up yet, I was still paid NO OVERTIME, despite the fact that I was working far more than 60 hours a week and doing two jobs.

> I LOVE my job. I had the most awesome time during that year of development, and I learned a ton. But if I did not have some help from my parents, I wouldn’t have survived the year of May 2018-May 2019. I DO have privilege, and it was still a very frugal year. It isn’t livable for someone without my privilege, period end of story. Not on its own.

> Many assistants without parental help end up taking on second jobs like script reading or even bartending. But they burn out. And they’re completely unable to write on the weekends. How can we expect those people to do their jobs well, much less move up the ladder and become staff writers?

Several listeners noted that they’ve found success when the assistant and showrunner are on the same page before business affairs gets involved.

Mia writes:

> Before taking this job, I nervously asked about the pay, ready to walk away.However, from the start this showrunner had demanded a guaranteed 60 hours of pay for the assistant position with the previous assistant and demanded that they keep the same rate for me. The previous assistant also assured me that I would rarely be expected to work more than 40 hours–the bosses were happy to sign off knowing that this was the work around that allowed an assistant to make enough to live.Those extra 10 hours of OT, combined with getting free lunch every day, made enough of a difference to take the job. But I still wasn’t making as much as I had working for a partner at a big agency, so things were tight.

> A year in, the Big Boss decided to take the company independent even though doing so meant that all of the operational costs of running the company would now be his sole responsibility. Still, as part of the new arrangement he upped my pay to a weekly salary of $1000 ($25 per hour for a 40 hour week) and paid for my health insurance.

> There were a ton of other small things that both of my bosses did to take care of me and the others who worked under them. This showrunner is known for promoting heavily from within. He set the tone that continued when he stepped away from showrunning to develop more. WAs, SAs, and WPAs all have consistently gotten to write episodes of the show.

> Perhaps these examples aren’t as much advocating on an assistants’ behalf as they are taking personal initiative to make sure assistants are taken care of. But in thinking about it, I never could have taken the job in the first place if it didn’t come with that 60 hour guarantee.From the start he used his pull when he first landed his overall to make sure the starting salary for the assistant role was significantly more than the studio was offering. It was a really great job, and I know from experience, they often aren’t.

Sarah writes:

> Been an assistant for many years now and have gotten over my shyness about asking for a living wage (plus, you tend to be offered the minimum to start, and as an experienced assistant, I feel I can and should ask for more). In general, I’ve found most people respect politeness, and I always negotiate knowing that the studio is a business and is advocating for themselves; it’s not a personal thing. Usually, it’s all sorted out within a few emails.

> But after being hired on a new show with a boss I’d never worked for before, Business Affairs simply wasn’t coming up from their number… at all. Someone from the department eventually called me to say my requests were “outrageous.” I explained that I was simply looking to match my quote from my prior show, and I was happy to loop in the showrunner, whom I’d told my previous rate to before I was hired, if that helped.

> The person on the phone told me I could do that if I wanted, but offered me some “free advice” — I could tell my boss I wanted more money, but I should ask myself what that said about me. “Why was I taking the job. Was I looking to learn… or looking to get paid?” I was so stunned, I simply said I’d reach out to the showrunner and be in touch once I’d heard back.

> Showrunner agreed to my rate immediately. I took the position, but I always wished I’d said something to that Business Affairs person on the phone. You can say no to my rate anytime you’d like, but it’s shameful to imply that asking for fair compensation for a job I am performing for your company in any way means that I am ungrateful for the opportunity.

Assistants are nervous to push for the money they deserve because they really want the job. Not any job — this job. Many Hollywood assistants have resumes that could be earning them six figures in other industries, but they want to work in film and television.

These jobs are worth a lot, but so are these assistants. The industry needs to pay a fair wage.

Writers PA left to pick up the tab

Assistants, Television

Our mailbox keeps overflowing with new tales of assistant-dom. Producer Megana Rao reads every one and sorts them for future episodes. She also forwards a handful to me. This one, from a writers room production assistant (WPA), felt like one that should be read in its entirety, so I got the author’s permission to publish it here.

—

I was in my early 30’s when I finally landed a Writers PA gig on a comedy. We had a toddler so just to take the job, I had to work weekends waiting tables to pay for the childcare during the week. (Which is another issue entirely.)

The WPA job destroyed my soul. I was invisible to the writers except when they needed something or when I wasn’t at their immediate disposal for an errand. They would leave the room at the end of the day with their plates and cups and half-eaten meals on the table for me to clean up after them. One writer even told me when I asked if she would please throw out her food that “it was my job to clean things.”

I took it in all in stride. Lunch was brutal. (ed: Most TV writers rooms order in lunch. It’s a big part of a WPA’s job.) They were incredulous about the studio-imposed dollar limit, and at me for trying to enforce it. If they went over, some paid, others refused. *It’s only a few bucks* — *who would notice* – *be creative with the numbers* they’d say. They would become so enraged when I’d let them know they went over that I simply stopped asking to be paid back.

A few writers sent me on special snack runs and told me to charge it through. When accounting told me I had to get reimbursed by the writers, these writers would instruct me to tell accounting where they could shove it. Accounting would get angry and respond in kind. This would go back and forth and the whole time, the lunch overages and snack-run tab grew and grew. Eventually [the show] got cancelled and everybody split. Accounting told me I would be blacklisted if I didn’t pay the tab. So… I paid. It was almost $500. And I never told anyone.

If you’re wondering why I paid or why I I didn’t stand up for myself, then you don’t understand what it’s like to be a writer trying to break in. How working writers see you — writers who might be in a position to hire you one day — is critical. And I know this because one time I did stand up for myself and it came back to bite me.

Towards the end of our run, one writer who would often tell me how he had “paid his dues the hard way and that’s just how it is when you’re an assistant,” told me to go on a bakery run and charge it through. I told him that accounting had reprimanded me that morning for the millionth time regarding yet another sketchy charge for the writing staff and I simply couldn’t do it.

This was a mid-level writer who I could tell was on his way up…but I’d had enough and said no. I was respectful. Later that day after an all-writing-staff meeting, the higher ups left and this writer turned to me and very publicly kicked me out of the room making it clear I was no longer welcome when it wasn’t food-related.

When you’re support staff and you speak up, regardless of the reason or how polite you are, there are consequences.

I could have told the showrunner about this. I could have told him about the $500 tab. He would have paid. He would have brought me back in the room to be a fly in the wall —- but he was a kind and sweet person who was in over his head running his first show and I wanted to get staffed one day.

I’m no longer a PA or an assistant and I’d never do it again. I believe that forgiveness, of others and yourself, along with letting things go. It’s an essential part of being a healthy person. But for some reason, these experiences still upset me to this day.

I deeply appreciate you shining a light in this issue. It means a lot to all of us.

Hollywood assistants have always been underpaid, but this is different

Assistants, Film Industry, Television

One of my first jobs in Hollywood was as an assistant. It was 1994. I was just finishing film school, and felt lucky to get a job working for two busy producers. I spent my days answering phones, reading scripts and making copies. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was exactly the position I knew I needed, learning how the business works.

My assistant salary ((I originally put this as $550/week — $952/week in 2019 dollars — but I’m now doubting my memory. Was it actually $425, or even lower? I don’t have any pay stubs or tax returns to check. Perhaps a better yardstick is rent: It was enough that I could afford to live alone in a 1-bedroom apartment in West Hollywood, which in itself seems incredible.)) was enough to pay rent, buy groceries, and see all the movies I could. I wrote on nights and weekends. Like every assistant I knew, I aspired to bigger things. I managed to get an agent, get some meetings, and eventually get hired to write a feature. In all, I spent about two years in assistant-dom.

Since then, I’ve had nine incredible assistants — all of them aspiring writers — so I want to believe I still have a connection to what that experience is like. But my sample size is obviously limited.

On a recent episode of Scriptnotes, we asked listeners to write in with their experiences as assistants, focusing on the impact of their low wages. To my surprise, we got by far the most mail we’ve ever received on a topic — more than 100 emails at last count. Scriptnotes producer Megana Rao made a 26-page reading packet for us that covered the highlights, from which we excerpted sections for the podcast.

In this post, I want to go into deeper depth on a few issues. As on the show, we’ve changed names and identifying characteristics in these emails.

Barry writes:

> There is a widespread assumption that assistant jobs are for those “right out of college.” But in 2019, this is fundamentally not true.

> Most of my friends who are getting their first staff writer jobs right now logged at least a decade in assistant positions. I became a WGA member and still had to keep taking assistant jobs for years after that, and so did many of my peers. Now of course, some folks get big breaks quicker than others, and move out of assistant jobs much faster — that’s always been the case. But for the vast majority of us right now, the days of being a writers’ assistant for one year and then getting a staff job are mostly over.

> A staff writer job used to be viewed as an apprentice job (hence staff writers not getting script fees). Nowadays, showrunners are increasingly wanting experienced writers in those positions, often with multiple episodic credits already. There’s so much more competition now that showrunners can afford to set the bar that high.

> However, if assistant jobs are still being paid like they’re for people who are “right out of college,” this becomes an enormous problem as assistants get older. It’s one thing to make such a paltry salary at 22, when you’re living the Ramen lifestyle, and have roommates, and are on your parents’ health insurance, and you’re maybe still driving their car, etc. But if you’re making basically the same amount at 32, when your financial needs have changed significantly, these jobs actually become MORE unsustainable the longer you’re in the industry and the more experience you have.

To me, this is the crux of the issue. Decision-makers — people in their 40s and 50s — imagine these jobs as being filled by their younger selves. *What are they complaining about?* they ask. *I was an underpaid assistant, too!*

These decision-makers are making two fundamental mistakes. First, they’re assuming that assistants are pretty much exactly like, well, me in 1994: white Americans just out of college with no kids and little debt who often have parents that can help out with expenses.

Second, these decision-makers are ignoring how much has changed since they were assistants two decades ago. A non-exhaustive list:

1. Los Angeles has gotten much more expensive.
2. Assistants stay assistants longer than they used to.
3. Owning a car is still essential, and costs more.
4. Medical insurance is pricier.
5. Short seasons make it harder to advance.

This last point merits a closer look. Barry again:

> I currently work on a successful tv show. I worked for five months on the first season, then we took nine months off, then I worked for five months on the second season, they we took AN ENTIRE YEAR OFF before the third season started.

> It should be pretty clear why the folks who make the least amount of money — and have the fewest contacts, and don’t have agents/managers repping them for other jobs — are going to be hit hardest in a scenario where the new world order is that the majority of jobs only last a couple months. This is a huge difference even from when I started in the industry, where getting a job on a hit show would AT LEAST mean that you had a few years of steady work before you had to start looking again.

In the old days of 22-episode season orders, it was not uncommon to promote a writer’s assistant to staff writer after the second or third season. At that point, the showrunner had plenty of experience seeing what that writer could do. But almost no streaming show runs for 40 or more episodes — and if they do, it would be after many years, with frequent breaks.

Christian writes:

> I am a Writer’s PA (WPA). I have been working as an assistant in various executive and personal capacities for more than five years now. This is my third show as a Writer’s PA, though I’ve also been a Showrunner’s Assistant (SA) in the past.

> You may be asking why I’ve been working for five years as an assistant, with SA experience, and am working as a WPA now. To keep a long story short, with streaming keeping rooms small and wrapping before production starts, there’s not a lot of growth potential for assistants on streaming shows. None of the ones I’ve worked so far have heard whether or not they’re getting renewed, and with wages so low, there’s only so long you can hold out on unemployment before having to take the next gig, even if it is a demotion.

> Unintentionally or not, making sure assistants are not paid enough to build up a savings cushion between gigs is one of the ways in which the system benefits our employers. Many of us are so desperate to pay rent that we’ll accept the low-ball offer, because at least we’re getting paid. Those of us who try to negotiate are dropped from consideration for someone more desperate and ready to accept the low pay.

> I’m still getting paid minimum wage. Because that is the “industry standard” for WPAs. Because being a WPA is considered an entry-level position, even when most showrunners are looking for–and receiving resumes from–assistants with experience.

> What’s worse is that this production model of “room first, production later” is putting a LOT more responsibility on the Writers’ Room support staff. I’ve opened two rooms now, both without the help of a production office or production accountant. I’ve done the work of a production coordinator, office manager, and production accountant. I was the financial approver for the Writers’ offices on two of my shows, which meant any time we needed the studio lot where our offices were located to do something for us, I had to “approve” the studio charges.

> The studio also made it VERY clear that they wouldn’t hire a Script Coordinator until production started (so after our rooms wrapped). Well, no surprise, there are script coordinator duties that have to be done the second writers start to write, so the burden to proof, distro, and handle contractual paperwork fell to me. Many times I found myself contemplating the ironies of being the lowest paid assistant on the show, stuck doing the highest paid assistant’s duties without title or pay bump. (Note: I was recently informed by an IATSE Union rep that this breaks union rules. I had no idea.)

Again: these are just two out of more than 100 emails we received on this topic. Then on Sunday, the #PayUpHollywood hashtag started trending with more horror stories.

I don’t know why the dam suddenly broke open, but my hope is that by engaging assistants, showrunners, agents and executives we can start to grapple with the inequities that are making assistant jobs unsurvivable for many folks who want to work in this industry. Both on the podcast and this blog we’ll be sharing more stories and solutions as they come up.