Follow the juggernauts of continuing TV drama as they appraise the ins and outs, highs and lows, of working in the land of telly in The Show Must Go On: Writing for Soaps.
Yvonne Grace, serial producer, editor and story developer, chairs this cosy session. Opening with a disclaiming tribute to soaps as “one of the most tough formats to write regularly well for,” Grace is quick to declare “telly, and particularly long-running drama [as] a fabulous place to work. It will guard you from insanity because it will be allowing you to stretch your creative muscles but it will also ensure that […] millions of people will see your work and your name on the screen.” And with a few golden sentences, the tone of the seminar is set: how to land a job in the business and why it is so rewarding.
Accompanying Yvonne Grace is: Tracy Brabin, a former actress and now writer for shows such as Tracy Beaker, Shameless and Hollyoaks; Damon Rochefort, TV creator, producer and a long-standing writer for Coronation Street; and Tony McHale, also an actor turned writer/director.
So, to the recurring question of how to land a job in the business of continuing TV drama, Tony McHale has developed a simple and concise “standard reply,” given the numerous times he’s been posed this question throughout the LSF.
“Writers write.”
Call this obvious perhaps, but this is also the opening remark of Tracy Barbin. Speaking of her consistent need to prove herself, a quality akin to many scriptwriters in the industry, Barbin believes a writer must first and foremost, “make your sample the thing that is you; write an original script before anything else because that’s what’s going to get you through the door.” Indeed, the transgression between scripts – the intimate first, to several brief encounters along the way to the final professional stage of earning a salary – only occurs with ceaseless writing.
So how to reach and understand the pitching process? Barbin’s honest and rigorous conversation is the first to broach the topic and much like a soap enticing an audience, it relies on:
Hooks; “your ideas have to have hooks, which is what beats, brings back an audience tomorrow for what’s going to happen in the next few episodes.”
Providing writing with strength, a hook can also entice other writers, which makes surviving the pitching process all the easier. To write for long running drama means instinctively knowing whether a story has legs, twists and turns. These will inevitably give way to numerous hooks. Divulging a blow-by-blow account of the pitching process, Barbin interestingly notes the necessity of hooking “other writers’ interest as well, because they will be continuing to write your episode.”
This “collaborative gene,” as Grace and Rochefort refer to it, means being as charismatic and likeable as your script thus heightening the chance of making the writers’ team.
Further enlightening the pitching process, Rochefort refers to the big “northern voices” around the Coronation Street writers’ table, before bemusedly suggesting that “in that case, you’re fucked if you’re from Cardiff.” Although to his credit, clearly not. The importance of this though, is to:
“Catch up” and “don’t even insult them.” No one has the time or inclination to train a naïve innocent, especially if they don’t absolutely adore the show and know it inside out.
Rochefort, a well-experienced voice responsible for 140 episodes of Coronation Street, endured several frustrating script rejections from Coronation Street before turning to Family Affairs to better fortune. Seeing his success happen elsewhere, Coronation Street swiftly invited him to meet the team. This tale was nicely rounded off with a gloriously lonesome spurt of laughter from Tony McHale and lead to Rochefort’s point of advice:
“You must never underestimate the power of somebody else wanting you.”
As the term ‘continuing drama’ casually slides to ‘soaps’ during the increasingly relaxed and entertaining conversation, the topic turns to the importance of handling rejection and the ease with which it is doled out. McHale’s unsympathetic response is “that is what your life will be, it doesn’t matter what level you’re at.” Rochefort agreed with an amusingly telling remark: “you just get rejected by more important people.” Instead of abandoning the offending scripts, Barbin encourages that writers anticipate it:
“Never give up on an idea.”
So what qualities lend themselves to this forthright confidence? Barbin herself believes it is tenaciousness, flexibility and a lack of preciousness. Rochefort clearly agrees when he admits that “no idea is a bad idea, the only bad idea is not to say anything,” an argument that can be applied throughout the writing and pitching processes.
With the amount of advice offered by these “monoliths” of telly, most of which is construed of immense time, effort and writing, what are the reciprocating advantages you can expect to receive in the continuing TV drama landscape? Easily enough, the first motivation is casually dropped in the shape of £100,000 when Barbin discusses the writing salaries handed out for Hollyoaks. So clearly, the necessary evil is:
Money.
The financial support of continuing drama is obviously substantial and due to the structure and plenitude of writers, the possibility of time for raising a family or even going on holiday is a lot more conceivable. On the other hand, Barbin is quick to provide the moral motivation perhaps needed by the more stubbornly affirmed creatives.
The opportunity to tell “brave, contemporary stories,” she describes as even worth braving the “shark-pit” of fellow writers with “loud voices”.
McHale concurs with this resounding statement. Inevitably, writing for someone else’s show may not be the first choice for many budding scriptwriters, yet this involves working in a medium that provides the opportunity that no other medium can.
“Where else can you tell a story like this?” he asks.
And after all, isn’t that the business? Story telling.
Posted by a member of the London Screenwriters’ Festival team.
