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Education

Transitioning from comics to TV

March 22, 2011 Education, First Person, Television

Today’s First Person article comes from the open call. Jay Faerber is trying to transition from writing comics to writing TV, and is doing so with the help of the Warner Bros TV Writers Workshop.

——–

first personfaerberMy name’s Jay Faerber.

I’m 38 years old and I’ve been writing comic books professionally for the past 13 years.

It’s a great, fun job and incredibly fulfilling. But in addition to comics, I’ve got a great love for television, so I’m finally taking the plunge and becoming a TV writer.

This wasn’t a decision I made lightly. In fact, I spent considerable time coming up with reasons not to try my hand at TV writing. I guess I was a little afraid that working in TV could destroy my enjoyment of TV as a viewer. Because despite writing comic books, I read very few comic books these days. The late Robert B. Parker explained it well when he said, “I tend to look at books the way carpenters look at houses.”

My secret origin
—–

Because I didn’t want to ruin my love of TV by writing TV, I was content to let my manager shop around my comic books as movie and TV properties, and attach other writers. One of these writers was a baby feature writer who was adapting one of my comics as a feature spec.

Some writer friends of mine asked why I wasn’t writing the spec myself. After all, they were my characters and this baby writer wasn’t bringing a huge reputation to the table. So why not just do it myself?

And that’s what got me started. I remember very clearly the conversation that ensued, and by the end of it I was incredibly energized about trying to transition from comic books into features and TV. So I wrote a feature spec of my comic, Dynamo 5. Adapting my own work was a great way to make the jump into screenwriting. I was kind of intimidated by the format and “rules” of a screenplay, but the pressure was less because I already knew the characters and story so well. Nothing ever came of it, but it was a great exercise.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized my real interest was in TV, not features. I liked the chance to spend a lot of time — maybe years — with a set group of characters. I also liked that in TV, writers write. Feature writers take a lot more meetings and tinker with the same script for a huge chunk of time. With TV, you gotta get stuff done fast so it can be filmed a couple weeks later. I’m used to that kind of pace because of my comic book background, so it was more appealing to me.

Over the next summer I wrote a pilot that my manager showed to a few producers. We got good feedback on the writing, but we were told nobody would be interested in the premise. What was the premise, you may be asking? It was about Internal Affairs cops. And shortly after we decided to shelve it and try something else, Lifetime bought a pilot called Against the Wall, and it was about … Internal Affairs cops. Which proved that at least my instincts weren’t terrible.

Getting on the playing field
—-

The following spring I decided to try to get into one of the TV writing programs. Most networks and TV studios have them, including

* NBC/Universal’s [Writers on the Verge](http://www.nbcunicareers.com/earlycareerprograms/writersontheverge.shtml)
* The [ABC/Disney Writing Program](http://abctalentdevelopment.com/programs/programs_writings_fellowship.html)
* The Warner Bros [TV Writers Workshop](http://writersworkshop.warnerbros.com/), and
* The CBS Writers [Mentoring Program](http://diversity.cbscorporation.com/page.php?id=23).

I applied to the first three, because the CBS program is very diversity driven, and as a white guy, I didn’t see the point in applying.

I wrote a Burn Notice spec, just because it’s a show that’s been around long enough that most people at least have some familiarity with it, and it fits in with my sensibilities.

All three programs I applied to required not only a spec, but also some sort of essay question about my background, and what I’d bring to a writers room.

I leaned pretty heavily on my experience as a comic book writer, since there’s a lot of crossover between the two mediums. Both, for instance, involve telling stories visually. In comics, it’s drilled into us to avoid having two characters simply stand around talking. It’s much more visual if they’re doing something while they’re talking.

That’s why all those old Chris Claremont X-Men stories featured so many scenes of the X-Men in the Danger Room. Most of those scenes were really just exposition scenes, but they were much easier to swallow when the X-Men delivered them while fighting big robots or whatever. And while comics use caption boxes and, to a lesser extent these days, thought balloons, they’re still mainly dialogue driven — just like TV.

In fact, I find certain aspects of screenwriting to be easier than comics. With a comic book script, you have to be constantly mindful of how much an artist can fit into a single panel, or a single page. With a screenplay, you don’t have those constraints.

But you have others. In comics, it doesn’t cost any more to show a planet exploding than it does to show two people talking. (In fact, your artist will likely have more fun drawing the exploding planet!) In film and TV, there’s a huge difference between the two.

Honestly, I kind of thought if I got into any of the programs, it would be the NBC/Universal Writers on the Verge. Two reasons: One, I wrote a Burn Notice, which is an NBC/Universal show. And two, one of my comics (Noble Causes) was optioned by NBC/Universal a few years ago. But the NBC/Universal notification period came and went and I never heard a peep.

A few weeks later, I was completely surprised by a phone call from Warner Bros, asking me to come in for an interview. I was living in Seattle at the time, so I hopped on a plane to LA, where I had an interview with Chris Mack, the head of the workshop. A WB Current Executive was also present in the interview. We talked for awhile about my background, and why I like TV, and what shows I watch, that kind of thing. All in all it was a pretty casual, low key kind of interview.

I flew back to Seattle the next day and spent the next two weeks ticking days off the calendar, since Chris had said to expect an answer in two weeks. And it was exactly two weeks later when he called to said I’d been accepted.

I then had another two weeks to get myself relocated to LA in time for the first workshop. I know John has had entire blog entries devoted to moving to LA, so I’ll keep this brief.

I think having such a time constraint actually helped in this case. I just threw my two cats in my car, packed a few things, and drove south. I jotted down a few addresses from Craigslist and literally took the second apartment I looked at on the day I arrived in LA. I settled in Sherman Oaks, since I have friends in the area and it’s an easy commute to Burbank. I attended the first workshop, then flew back up to Seattle the next morning, packed up the rest of my belongings, and made the long drive south again in a moving truck and was back here in time for the following week’s workshop.

How the workshop works
—–

The workshop meets once a week, on Wednesday evenings, for about three hours. There are nine of us in this year’s group, although there are really only eight spots (since two guys work as a writing team). There are seven men and two women, and we range in age from mid-20s to late 30s. We’re all white, except for one African-American.

In terms of backgrounds, it’s much more diverse. We have one former child actor. A few people have worked (or are working) as writers assistants on various shows. One has previously written and acted in a cable show. One is a playwright. Two people work as copywriters at an ad agency. One works as a producer on a reality TV show.

I’d say the one thing we all have in common, aside from our love of TV, is some sort of previous experience in entertainment or writing of some kind. I doubt that’s a coincidence. While the workshop doesn’t require previous experience, it sure looks like it’s helpful.

I’ll also point out that I’m the only one in the workshop who relocated from another part of the country. I don’t know how many applicants they received from across the country, and I don’t know if I’m considered an exception or not. But I made it abundantly clear in both my application materials and the interview that I was ready and willing to relocate.

Once the program got under way, each of us wrote a new spec in a simulated writers room-type environment. We got notes from everyone in the group, plus our instructors, and had to hit deadlines for our beat sheets, outlines, first draft, second draft, etc.

Writing our specs took up about half the time of the program. The other half has been lectures on all aspects of the TV industry, from various guest lecturers with firsthand experience.

We’re encouraged to go out for drinks each week after the workshop and bond as a group. And we really have bonded.

As I write this, we’re at the tail end of the program. It started the first week of November and ends the first week of April. We’re starting to get sent around on meetings (which are arranged by the head of the workshop).

One of my classmates has already been staffed, and I’ve been sent on one showrunner meeting and one general meeting so far. It’s an incredibly exciting time.

Sometimes I need to pinch myself when I think of how much my life has changed in the past four months. I went from sitting in my home office in cold, rainy Seattle, writing comic books, to driving onto the Warner Bros lot each week, where I get to talk TV with some amazingly talented writers.

Juggling paid work and specs

March 10, 2011 Education, First Person

I’m still sorting through emails from readers who wrote in [offering up their experiences](http://johnaugust.com/archives/2011/looking-for-more-first-people) for the First Person series. The blessing and curse is that there are far too many to choose from. Over the next few weeks and months I’ll be featuring a variety of them, possibly bundled in theme weeks. (We have a lot of married writing teams and reality TV producers.)

The first article of this new batch comes from Allison Schroeder, a [young-new-baby screenwriter](http://johnaugust.com/archives/2011/young-vs-new) who works in both features and television. She exemplifies something I’ve seen again and again: a career is shaped by talent, luck and very hard work. It’s like trying to start a campfire in a rainstorm. You can do it, but it takes persistence.

I don’t know Allison, but after reading her article, I realized how many friends and colleagues we had in common. When I asked about it, she wrote back:

> Ironically, you’ve been there for a lot of my big moments probably without realizing it! That Career Fair where I met my mentor, you were one of the organizers. Al Gough’s birthday right before I was staffed on 90210. And Dara’s BBQ the week MG2 was greenlit. You’ve been good luck!

I don’t think it’s kismet or coincidence. She was putting herself in the right places for luck to happen. These were situations that wouldn’t have happened if she didn’t live in LA.

——–

first personallison schroederI’m a working writer in Los Angeles. Those are beautiful words to say. Now there’s a lot of doom and gloom rants, discouraging statistics and articles regarding women in the industry — if you want that, don’t look at me. I love being a female writer in Los Angeles!

Now like all love stories, there’s been some heartbreak and tears, some highs and lows, but rarely have I ever felt my gender was holding me back. In fact, at times, it’s helped me. Execs, producers, actors, and directors want to hear a unique voice that feels authentic. And I write quirky, strong female characters, often drawing from personal experience. One of my very first spec scripts Stickgirls — which I wrote as both a pilot and feature — followed two young teenagers, essentially a Stand By Me for girls. That sample led to my first staff writing position on the new 90210 and later to my first feature, Mean Girls 2. But before my big break, I worked, and worked hard as a PA, an assistant, and writer-for-free.

How it all started
——-

I graduated from Stanford University for undergrad and after two years as a consultant, I returned to school at the University of Southern California for my MFA in the Film Production Program.

Everyone has a different opinion on film school; all of us who started together left USC with different impressions. Would I do it again? Yes. Why? First, I understand how a set works which helps a lot when I’m writing a screenplay as production nears. I know what the AD means when she asks for changes. Second, the alumni and my friends. I don’t have a manager, so my friends give me notes. I never turn in a script without someone reading it first. I call it the “stupid check” — as in, am I a talentless hack that will embarrass myself by turning in this draft? They say no, I breathe easier, and hit send.

After graduation, it took some time to find a job in the industry (I tutored during those months) but I finally landed as a PA on Pineapple Express. Everyone on the film was incredibly open to questions about the process, about writing. They honestly wanted to help me with my career – and I think this had a lot do with the fact I took pride in my job. I was the best damn grocery shopper they’d ever seen. Seriously.

I know writers who fear getting a job in the industry because they won’t have enough time to write. And I understand that, I do. But I feel that to work in the industry, you, well, need to work in the industry. Don’t be above getting people coffee!

My big break
—–

During this time, I met a mentor at a USC Career Event. I started developing with him and his writing/producing partner. I wrote two pilots and a feature on spec, but the writer’s strike didn’t exactly help the odds of a sale.

I continued to work as an assistant, replying to a USC job posting and moving to Smallville as a Writers’s PA. Until one day, about a year later, I was manning my boss’ desk at Smallville and I got the call.

My mentor casually asked, “Hey, do you want to be a staff writer on 90210? We’re the new showrunners.”

Uh, yes please.

And that was it. I met with the network soon after; they read Stickgirls and approved me. I met with UTA that same day; they became my agents ten minutes after I walked out of the network meeting.

It happened “overnight.” Well, if “overnight” means after two years of hard work, building relationships, and endless writing.

People often want to know how much I wrote during my assistant years. In terms of time: many hours a week. In terms of material generated: two original pilots, one TV spec, two features, a novel, and a pile of tossed out pages. I meet many aspiring writers who haven’t finished a single script. That’s not going to be a path to success.

After that first job
—–

I now work in both features and television.

After 90210, I created a pilot for MTV with Wilmer Valderrama, called Brooklyn Sound. It didn’t get picked up but it was a great experience. They had absolute faith in my abilities regardless of my gender or experience, and I will forever be grateful for that.

Compliments are far more rare than criticism in this industry. One of my successful writing friends (who I met when she was an assistant, I her intern) told me silence means you’re doing a good job. When I have self-doubt, I remind myself of that. No news is good news.

A lot of my scripts will never see the light of day. So when one’s actually greenlit, the game changes.

allison schroderBudget, logistics, stunts, company moves, clearances, censorship can rapidly change a script. Coming from film school, I knew all the steps involved to make a script come to life. I had built sets, hung lights, set-up craft service, held the boom mic, loaded film, managed budgets, rented costumes. When I showed up on the Mean Girls 2 set (directed by the fabulous Melanie Mayron) and saw the lead character’s house decorated for Halloween, the gravity of the moment hit me.

I had written the words almost too casually: FLASHBACK – HALLOWEEN.

Which meant a team of art department geniuses had transformed the exterior of the house into a Halloween fantasy. As a screenwriter, you’re writing the blueprint for hundreds of people. It’s made me consider my words far more carefully as I write now. Am I giving enough information for all the departments? Am I clearly stating the tone, mood, and action of the scene for the director? Am I filling the silence?

Juggling paid work and spec work
—–

After Mean Girls 2, I was hired for Mean Girls 3 and an MTV television movie. Plus I was developing a pilot and finishing the first draft of my spec feature. Ah multi-tasking!

A lot of my friends work in teams or focus on either television or features. I work alone and like to do both. So I make sure to prioritize according to deadline. I don’t miss deadlines. I am not late.

Many writers miss deadlines. Yes, we’re creating “art.” But this is business, a job, and I don’t take that lightly.

But I will call and ask for a few more days if I need them. I called MTV yesterday and said, “I could turn this in today but I feel this first act isn’t working.” The executive and I brainstormed for an hour, and I’m taking the week to do an overhaul. You want everything to be the best it can be, but I’m also mindful of their production schedule.

I’m still very much starting out my career. Which means I have to constantly be working on spec scripts — both features and pilots — to make people see me differently, hire me for something besides teen comedies. I have to be strategic, balancing assignment work and my own projects.

For personal projects, I normally send my agents a handful of ideas and they point me at the ones that might work. Because I don’t have a studio hounding me, it’s all about discipline.

Paid projects always take precedence, followed by projects that I’m doing for a specific production company or a producer that showed interest, followed by passion projects. My specs are always personal in some regard. Write what you know has worked well for me.

Sometime, your brain hurts from all the juggling. Switching from teenage slang to old Southern rhythms in my pilot, from two teen stories — one all about guys, one all about girls — plotlines could get confusing. But you manage. I alternated weeks on the teen stories based on deadlines. I wrote the pilot when my mind needed to jump into an alternate world. And then I took a break. After a massive writing spree, I need at least a week to decompress.

Where I go from here
—

My writing teacher at USC said this profession is a marathon, not a sprint.

I’m always looking for the next job. Always. As I move forward, I’m pushing myself to take chances. I don’t feel pigeonholed as a woman or a teen writer. I feel it’s up to me to write what I want to be hired for.

Here’s a little secret. Female action writers, especially in television, are in hot demand. So to continue to expand my writing career, I need to step outside my comfort zone. That doesn’t mean I plan to turn my back on teen work. I love it. It comes naturally to me. But to move to the next level, to theater-released features, to television development, I must continue to write new samples.

Writing my own work often takes longer than when I’m on assignment. One of my feature specs, I’ve been stuck on for years. It’s personal, it’s autobiographical, it’s hard to write. Other specs are finished within weeks. I try not to beat myself up too much, but there are dark days where I sit in my pajamas, stare at my cats (no judgement please) and wallow.

I am only allowed to wallow for twenty-four hours. It’s a rule. Then I have to get back at it.

And no matter what the project, when I write, you can always hear my voice — maybe not literally in all cases, but my sarcasm here, my Southern roots there, even a line or moment of dream fulfillment.

My biggest obstacle to overcome as I move forward has less to do with outside forces, and more to do with me vs. the blank page. I have a poster that reads: “Type or Die.” That pretty much sums it up.

Anatomy of a script series

February 1, 2011 Education, News, WGA

Each year, the Writers Guild Foundation holds a series of discussions with film and television writers focusing on one of their past or current projects. This year, I’ll be a guest, talking about Big Fish.

The lineup for the series looks great:

__Tuesday February 22:__ Debra Granik on Winter’s Bone (screening at 5:15 pm)

__Wednesday March 2:__ Glenn Gordon Caron on Medium (screening at 6:10 pm)

__Wednesday March 9:__ Steve Levitan on Modern Family (screening at 6:30 pm)

__March 16:__ John August on Big Fish (screening at 5:00 pm)

__March 23:__ Marta Kauffman & David Crane on Friends (screening at 6:30 pm)

__March 30:__ Mike Werb & Michael Colleary on Face/Off (screening at 4:45 pm)

Winnie Holzman (Wicked, My So-Called Life) and Robin Schiff (Romy & Michelle’s High School Reunion) are hosting.

It’s a pretty small room, and the event always sells out. So if you’re interested, you may want to [get tickets now](https://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/155452).

A visit from the ghost of coverage past

December 6, 2010 Education

Reader Jason writes:

> [My boss] was giving our poor assistant the grueling duty of digitizing boxes and boxes of her old scripts. In the mire, he came across something we all found amusing -– coverage you did back in 1992.

He attaches coverage I wrote for both Quentin Tarantino’s NATURAL BORN KILLERS and Sam Hamm’s PULITZER PRIZE.

I don’t publish reviews of unproduced screenplays (ahem), but I’ll happy share what I wrote about [Tarantino’s NBK](http://johnaugust.com/Assets/nbk.pdf).

natural born killers script

I read it (and wrote this coverage) during my first semester of film school at USC. I probably read 200 scripts that year, but I remember this one distinctly, because upon reaching the last word I promptly flipped back to page one and read it again.

(This was Fall 1992. Little did I know that the following year I’d be working for the movie’s producers during post-production, and would co-write the novelization.)

Next to James Cameron’s ALIENS scriptment, NBK was probably the single screenplay that most made me want to become a screenwriter.

So why the hell did I give it “good” across the board rather than “excellent?”

An acute case of chickenshititis, I suspect. We were strongly discouraged from ever using the “excellent” boxes. Just writing “consider” was a bold move. I’ll cut my younger self a break just this once.

Some extra details about this document, just because I remember:

* I’m pretty sure I wrote this for a class assignment, rather than my reader internship. Laura Ziskin taught our first development class. Each week, we checked out two scripts from her extensive script library. ((The idea of “checking out” something seems quaint, but photocopying was fairly expensive.))

* I wrote this on the Mac, most likely in [ClarisWorks](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/AppleWorks). For the cover page, we had a pre-printed template to use. Most readers used a typewriter to do the cover sheets, but with enough finessing, I got the fields in ClarisWorks to line up properly.

* This coverage was probably printed on a StyleWriter. Sometime later that year I bought a LaserWriter — an expensive indulgence at the time, but much cheaper through the USC Bookstore. The LaserWriter had a thin and terrible version of Courier, so I used Fontographer to make a chunkier one I called Dorphic, which I continued to use for many years. (Go is printed in Dorphic.)

In my essay on [Professional Writing and the Rise of the Amateur](http://johnaugust.com/archives/2006/professional-writing-and-the-rise-of-the-amateur), I make a pointed challenge:

> So you have to ask yourself: a year from now, five years from now, how am I going to feel when someone asks me about that thing I wrote?

This coverage is eighteen years old, from the pre-internet era. Further proof you don’t get to choose when to be professional.

You can read the full coverage [here](http://johnaugust.com/Assets/nbk.pdf).

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