Stephen Butchard Interview
There's a new interview with Stephen Butchard up on the website, where he talks about his new factual drama Five Daughters.
Archives for April 2010
Ben Stephenson interview
The Controller of TV Drama Commissioning at the BBC answered questions from a group of emerging writers we brought in to Television Centre. Read what Ben had to say.
Questions, questions
In a slight deviation from writing directly about Doctors, I wanted to reply properly to some of the questions you asked on my last post. In essence these questions can be summarised as: "who on earth are you and what the devil are you doing here?" Excellent questions, as they're exactly what we want to know of any character as soon as they appear.
So to fill you in briefly on my writing background - I wrote plays as a kid, but had this odd preoccupation with having to get a job, so I became a journalist. I wrote fiction on the side and got on a short course at the Old Vic Theatre that made me realise that most of my fiction was actually drama. Happily relieved of writing pages of description, I wrote a play instead and shoved it through the letterbox of Soho Theatre on the deadline of the Verity Bargate Award competition. It ended up sharing the prize with two other plays and my life changed overnight.
It didn't really. My play did win, but nothing much changed. It still took me three years to get my first full production. In the meantime I wrote like mad, mostly for free, and took every opportunity going - readings, short play festivals, competitions, bombarding the Writersroom, lit. departments, and the rest. Gradually I found people who 'got' me - an agent, directors, other writers in the same boat - and eventually I got my production. And then everything changed.
Did it heck. It was great experience, but it was still back to the blank page, writing the next thing, knocking on doors again. Around this time, the first BBC Writers' Academy was announced. I wasn't going to go for it, after my rejection from Doctors, but I think it was something as fickle as hearing that another writer I knew had applied that set me thinking. I changed my mind, and I somehow managed to get in. That did change things a bit (so if you haven't applied already, do give it a go!).
Crucially, it gave me another chance on Doctors. Over the course of the Academy, I wrote two 'dummy' episodes to get into the swing of things and then a third that got made: my first broadcast episode - starring Ray Quinn! Everything changed... for Ray. X-Factor. Grease in the West End. Dancing on Ice. All thanks to my launchpad episode*. Meanwhile, I went back to my blank page, kept writing, knocking on doors.
Since finishing the Academy, I've written 16 more episodes of Doctors, as well as writing plays for theatre and radio and various other stuff still in the pipeline/drawer. At the moment, I'm working on a serial-only episode of Doctors, but when that's done I'll be back to putting stuff out there and waiting for the phone to ring. Everything and nothing changes. Like Mr Stack says, there are no guarantees, which is how it should be really. It's how life is, and story. From that opening scene when we meet our protagonist, the other question we all want to know the answer to is: "what happens next?"
PS: Is anyone else reading David Mamet's new book 'Theatre'? Very inspiring, I reckon, in the sense of being shaken till your bones rattle whilst someone yells at you to 'TELL THE TRUTH!'.
* This may not be 100% true.
Ash and South West Voices
If you are trapped outside the UK due to the ash cloud from the Icelandic volcano and are worried that you may not be able to return to the UK in time to get your entry in for South West Voices, please email us at [email protected] and let us know your situation.
A Life in the Day
So I'm pretty addicted to the last page of the Sunday Times Magazine. You know the one - A Life in the Day interview, where the great and good tell us of a typical twenty four hours in their fabulous lives. As a chronic nosey parker, poking into anyone's life fills me with a dirty delight, but prodding into the nitty gritty goings on of a VIP gets my heart pounding and my right hand reaching for the baby oil. However, these articles have started to trouble me. No one featured in A Life in the Day resembles a functioning carbon based humanoid; They all get up at dawn, exercise to the point of exhaustion, have their significant others cook extravagant banquets for them, work a solid ten hours without complaint, have a wonderful meal of brown rice and organic vegetables, watch an award winning documentary and are asleep before the birds are in bed. The interview with author Jodi Picoult is a case in point, here's the first paragraph:
I get up a 5 every morning and try to hit the alarm clock before Tim wakes up. Then I go meet a friend of mine for a three mile walk. We rendezvous between where we both live, and we do it rain or shine - even in the winter we're out in the freezing subzero temperatures...by the time I come into the house, my husband is making breakfast for our three kids.
It's like a scene from Julia Roberts upcoming film Eat, Pray, Love (check out the trailer and tell me that it doesn't resemble some kind of horrendous T Mobile ad. Even the awful "inspirational" folk jingle that plays throughout is a carbon copy of countless "post hippie" cellular 30 second offerings).
But see, I ain't convinced by Jodi's answers. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. How do I know she's full of bull? NO ONE'S LIFE IS LIKE THAT. Even if you have the best day ever - even if you win the lottery while simultaneously snogging the person you've secretly been in love with while Julia Roberts (again) hands you your Oscar - it doesn't read like one these interviews and they are supposed to be "regular" days in a life. I wish people would be honest when it comes to things like this. Just a little bit. Sure you want to present your best self, but to present bogus life style perfection makes the rest of us feel like hunchbacks. It makes us feel lonely, isolated and subpar. It fills us with regret and frustration. Our lives feel dull and meaningless. The spin and airbrushing damages us in a place that's dark and hard to get to.
So with that in mind I've decided to give you my Life in a Day. It's not pretty, actually it's pretty hideous, but it's the truth and I think in a world where a politician is praised for appearing sincere on a TV debate, not actually being honest just appearing to be truthful, thats when the ugly truth is needed most.
Dominic Mitchell's A Life in the Day
I wake at 9am from an awful nightmare about being dead that my cruel subconscious has feed into my snoozing brain. I hate my subconscious more than Marmite. My t shirt is soaked in sweat and my head rings. I've only had 3 hours sleep due to drinking two bottles of Tesco's Own last night then stumbling / dancing around my room listening to my iPod, fantasizing about living a life that resembles a mildly uplifting Mark Ruffalo independent film. I set the alarm for the afternoon, take two Nurofen plus and put my head back on the pillow.
My subconscious pumps in more horrors and I rise in a panic. Signing on day and I've forgotten to fill in my Get Back to Work Booklet. I scramble to the internet, pull up direct.gov and cut n' paste the latest jobs. I dress without showering and ran full pelt to the Job Centre. I'm met by Stuart my new advisor (their always new, where do Work and Pensions get the giant staff pool? Do they grow'em?). He's an enthusiastic and kind person and I always wish I could give him a scrap of good news. But I can't. I'm a loser, who didn't even get a reply email from Lavazza coffee (I'd applied to be a "Caffeine Ambassador" and headlined my email "Coffee Enthusiast" - but still no joy).
Stu takes me through the latest vacancies: Admin assistant, Admin manager, Admin intern. All the jobs require 50 years of experience and a Masters degree in Boredom Control. I smile and nod as he suggests ditching the occupation WRITER on my job seekers agreement and replacing it with RETAIL. I tell him I've actually got an interview tomorrow with a director attached to the Young Vic theatre in London. Oh crap! I've forgotten to book my ticket down and secure accommodation. I sprint home and check my bank balance - almost as low it'll go. It's the Megabus coach or my legs. I consider walking. Nah, no time, I fork out the £9.50 and get packing. I pack light, not because I'm some Up In The Air George Clooney smoothie, but because at present I own one pair of black jeans (seriously, if you ever see me in public you'll see me in black jeans, this isn't any kind of fashion statement, it's to do with my bank statement). I'm out the door, leaving three unwashed plates in my room to fester until I return.
6.15pm and my Megabus is running 45 minutes late. Finally the cramped bus limbers up to the terminal and I take a seat next to someone playing Ricky Martin at maximum volume (by the time I get to Victoria I will know all the lyrics off by heart to the two classics; Livin' la Vida Loca and Shake Your Bon-Bon). I open up my book on the columbine massacre and hope the evil doings of two teenagers will drown out Rick.
Across from me I hear a slapping sound.
Out of the corner of my eye I can see a woman slapping herself in the face. She slaps her face four times then stops. I return to my page. SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP. It's the lady again, hitting her own face. Maybe she hates being on the Megabus, I think, or maybe she just really hates Shake Your Bon Bon. But when the power runs down on my seat partner's mp3 she's still at it. Slapping her face over and over again. This continues. For hours. She slaps, rests for 20 seconds, then continues with the self abuse. No one is commenting on this but the slapping is loud and even Ricky Martin's number 1 fan is disturbed by it. The hitting persists. My iPod is out of battery so I have to sit and listen to the slapping. It's like water torture. Why the hell is she slapping her own face? Forth hour in and I can't take it any longer, I'm out of my mind. I don't care if she's crazy and has a tick, if she has to slap herself in the face she can bloody well mime it like any other decent mentalist. I turn to her, mid slappage and say: "Excuse me!". It's loud and stern and I'm ready for war. She turns to me and for the first time I get a good look at her. At this moment it becomes terribly clear why she's been slapping herself in the mush: Her whole face is covered in eczema. Obviously the only way that she can resist scratching her own features off it by lightly slapping the infection. She looks at me with puppy dog eyes. I was ready to berate this person, now I do a 360 move and say; "Excuse me...is there anything I can do to help?" We have a heartbreaking conversation about her affliction. She's so nice and lovely and understanding. Then comes the kicker, she asks me; "My slapping isn't disturbing your reading is it?"
I feel 31 flavour's of awful.
I lie. I lie big; "No, no, not at all, I just wanted to see if you were alright." She smiles "No, but thank you for asking."
I turn around. She begins slapping herself again.
A weird thing happens though. The slapping doesn't bother me anymore. I can hardly hear it. My concentration returns and I can fully focus on my book. Empathy and understanding seem to trump the best headphones in the world. I feel terribly guilty of course, but it's coupled by a rush of pure love for my fellow travellers. Everyone on this Megabus, the people that many in this country believe are the lowest of the low, did their level best to ignore the Slapping Lady. They felt for her and didn't want to embarrass her or tell her off. I wonder how things would have gone down on a Virgin Trains 1st class carriage. My guess is That Slapping Lady would have lasted fifteen minutes then been kicked off at Watford Junction.
10.45pm and we finally rattle into London. I call a university friend and beg for a couch to sleep on. Like the champ he is he says no problem and when I arrive he's already mixing cocktails for me, and over lurid conversations about his latest sexual adventures and his flatmates dry witty put downs I feel content. The VIP's can keep their dawn risings, their banquets, their flawless spouses. Sometimes all you need is the kindness of strangers and the generosity of old friends to make a bad day good.
Dominic Mitchell is part of the BBC Northern Voices scheme and Bolton WritersLab
Bits and Bobs
The BBC writersroom will be speaking at this year's HighTide Festival on Saturday 2nd May 2010 at 1 pm. Tickets are free, and can be booked on the HighTide website.
Dominic Minghella, who created Robin Hood and Doc Martin, spoke to the Television Drama Conference recently about showrunning. You can read what he said at TwelvePoint.com.
Do It!
The sixth BBC Drama Writers Academy is now accepting submissions.
Kim Revill was part of the 2009 Drama Writers Academy, and here tells us what the course is like...
Was it really just a year ago that the adverts for the 2009 Writers Academy first appeared? It can't be. It's hard to believe how much my life has changed since then. I've just written an episode of EastEnders and am about to start on Casualty - pinching myself at regular intervals, naturally. Me? Writing for shows like this? British institutions? My name after the doof-doofs? All this was the stuff of idle dreams just 365 days ago.
Now, I'm like the Jehovah's Witness on every writer's doorstep; encouraging all the ones I know to apply. The Writers Academy is simply the most amazing and wonderful opportunity any writer could wish for. Anyone who wants to write continuing drama and doesn't apply needs to have a really, really good reason.
The first thing I tell anyone who asks, is if they really want to know what it's like, they should tune into Masterchef. How fortuitous that this current series coincides with the Academy application process? Seriously. I'm not kidding. The parallels are obvious. It's led by two charismatic hosts, who know their stuff. They select talented wannabes and teach them the basics, then set them loose in the professional environment. Sink or swim stuff. Like Greg Wallace says (or, rather, barks), "Cooking doesn't get tougher than this!" Neither does writing. "Whoever wins, it'll change their lives..." Oh, Mr Torode, you took the words right out of my mouth.
The Writers Academy felt a little like the X Factor boot camp, The Apprentice, just about every reality show you've pretended never to watch rolled into one and then some. And despite my enthusiasm for it now, there were times when I would rather have sung Whitney Houston in front of Simon Cowell or chomp kangaroo testicles in the Outback than write another Holby City guest story. In my dreams I have stared into the faces of Ant 'n'Dec and screeched ... I Don't Wanna Be a Writer Any More, Please Get Me Out of Here!!
But, as I keep telling anyone who'll listen - don't let that put you off. I am not quite the same person I was a year ago. I thought I was a writer before I went on the Academy. I wasn't. Not really. I was playing at it. Winging it with a knack for dialogue. Now I understand what stories are, why they work. Like a chef, you can't make a spectacular dish without at least understanding how the ingredients work together. Now I do. And we all start with the basic recipes, to which we all add our own individual touch. Okay, okay ... enough with the food analogies already ... here's my list of things to bear in mind, before, during and after the Academy experience.
1. Do it.
Apply I mean. Yes, I know you say you will. I know you intend to. But for those who count procrastination as their bestest friend in the whole wide world - and I include myself in that group - don't let anything stop you. As the BBC Recruitment database will testify, my application went in on the closing date last year; at the eleventh hour.
Of course, procrastinators always have a ready excuse. Many writers have told me that they haven't got a script to send. So write one! You're a writer, aren't you? If you want a career in continuing drama you need to get your head around working to a deadline and producing work within weeks rather than months. Get on with it.
2. Tell the Truth
It's one of the things that I learned on the Academy - that writing, that stories....they only work if they're true. True to the characters you write about and true to who you are. Never write what you think people expect or want you to write. It's creatively dishonest and, more importantly, you're selling yourself short. Contrary to what many who dismiss continuing drama as somehow 'inferior' to 'real' drama believe, this is not writing by numbers. When you're working on a continuing drama series, where much of the storyline has been designed before you start, you have to find the truth in that story and in the characters to make it work. So give yourself a headstart. Write from the heart NOW. Write the truth of what you see around you.
The script I sent in with my application was flawed. Structurally all over the place, but what I had done - and what I believe got me through the first sift and on to the long list - was that I had told the truth. I decided to tell the story I wanted to tell, about a world I knew, and I had something to say about. It wasn't a 'pretty' read. It certainly wasn't politically correct. But it was true.
3. Hard Graft
There's no magic bullet. No short cut. Don't believe anyone who tells you otherwise. Talent, welcome though it may be, can only get you so far. Hard work is what will transform your writing and move it forward. And there is no alternative. I have never worked so hard as I did during the Academy. Imagine condensing a degree course into three months, and you might get the idea. I know that some have suggested that a longer, part time course would be a better proposition. Despite the long dark nights sat in front of a blank screen, hurtling towards deadlines like a Tardis on full throttle, I disagree. I think the success of the Academy is in part due to the intensity of the experience. It forces you to focus. Not only on the task or assignment at hand, but on your relationship with your writing. Yes, you will be blinkered for those three months. Everything in your life will be seen through the prism of the Academy. I didn't think about anything but writing for those three months. That is a unique and delicious opportunity. Self-indulgent and unremittingly tough at the same time, but essential. I learned two things - that writing it is the only thing I want to do with my life. And that I needed to work hard. Harder than ever. I realised I'd been hamstrung before by my failure to grasp structure or pay enough attention to the mechanics of story. The Academy gave me the tools to understand story structure and thus to be able to tell the stories I want to tell. Thinking structurally has really transformed my approach to stories. I used to always get stuck... stories that began as promising ideas all too often fizzled out, ran out of steam, lurched to a grinding halt. Now I know how stories work, I can get out of those dead ends. Hard work and focus made that possible.
4. Persistence
Boring but true. As one seriously deficient in confidence, I often questioned my ability during the Academy. I was that close to walking away when the structural principles got the better of me. Nobody wants to be told where they've gone wrong, I know. But you will learn more from your failures than your successes. We had to learn to allow ourselves to mess up sometimes and not be paralysed by the fear of not getting it right. This was a liberation, and has proved an invaluable lesson when it came to working on the shows. Working in continuing drama is a collaborative process; it's not just about the writer. And you won't always get it perfect the first time, so don't tie yourself in knots trying to. It's a team effort. A script, however flawed, can be fixed. A blank page cannot.
5. Passion.
You have to love these shows. You can't fake it, however good an actor you think you are. You have to know and love the characters in Walford, Holby, and Letherbridge like you would your own family. The writers I've admired - and got to meet thanks to the Academy - Tony Jordan, Jimmy McGovern, Peter Bowker, Russell T Davies - they all write with incredible passion and love for their characters. That's what lifts their scripts above the average; makes them memorable, makes them entertaining, moving, heart-stopping episodes of television drama that live on. If you don't care about the series, or the characters, why do you think the audience will?
Ah, the audience. Yes. Them. You should be passionate about them too. Passionate and respectful. If you think the audience is some grey amorphous lump sat in front of the telly, brain disengaged, then you'll write grey, lumpy, undramatic scripts. The audience is intelligent, televisually-literate. It's a privilege to be allowed into millions of homes; to get the opportunity to entertain people.
6. Age
I know some of you are thinking that you may be too old for the Academy. It sounds like it should be filled with bright young things, doesn't it? I was the oldest on last year's Academy. I won't see forty again, but who cares? I definitely didn't have the stamina the twentysomethings did, but I never felt too old. I upped sticks from the Midlands and moved down south without a second thought. Just because you're middle-aged doesn't mean you aren't up for the challenge. In fact, I think being older makes you even more keen and focused. You don't have time to waste.
And, look at it this way, being on the planet an extra couple of decades has meant I've got twenty years more television watching under my belt! I would advise you to look after yourself though. Get plenty of sleep before you start. You'll need it.
I know I sound like a convert to the cult of the Academy, but that's because of the profound effect it's had on me and my writing. Of course, applying is no guarantee you'll be successful. It's a longshot. John and Ceri could fill the Academy several times over and still have writers knocking on the door. And not getting on, doesn't mean you're not a good writer. Remember that. Still, you should apply. If you love the shows, if you want to be a better writer, if you want to entertain millions of people - DO IT. DO IT NOW! Whatever happens, you won't regret it. That's one guarantee I can give.
BBC Drama Writers Academy 2010
The sixth BBC Drama Writers Academy is now accepting applications from writers with one or more professional credits.
The Academy is designed to train writers to work on the BBC's continuing drama series Casualty, Holby City, EastEnders, and Doctors.
A three month paid training course, which includes writing an episode of Doctors, is followed by a rotation across the three prime-time shows. Over the course of a year, successful applicants will write for all four of the BBC's continuing dramas.
Find out more about the Academy.
Read about Writing For Continuing Drama.
Doctors: Anatomy of an Episode #2
Phew! That's the really hard part over with. However it turns out, watching your own stuff in any form can be uncomfortable, can't it? Like listening to a tape of yourself singing, instead of just blissfully warbling, unaware of how it sounds.
So how did that episode [edit: this one for those who missed it] come about? Warning: this is long! Get yourself a cuppa
The idea - JW_Doctors_CATCHING.pdf
I often choose Michelle as my regular, because I find her fun to write and it can be easier to get her involved in people's predicaments as she's unafraid to stick her nose in. I can recommend starting with your regular and thinking about what story you want to write for them. They are the ones we watch the show for.
I read somewhere that one of the best places to find ideas was to think about things that scare you. After I had my son, I was forever having terrors about him being alone in the house, helpless, so this was one of the sources of the idea.
The medical aspect came from my son having conjunctivitis (very handy, these kids!). I put the two elements together and started working something up. It often helps to put more than one idea together. Sometimes an idea you're struggling with turns out to just be one moment in a bigger story, so don't be afraid to cross-fertilise.
Initially, going straight for the obvious, it was about a mum, but that felt clichéd - do we really need to guilt-trip working mums again? So I switched to a dad. It instantly felt fresher. Changing a character to someone more unexpected can transform your idea, a tip I nicked from 'Alien', in which Ripley was originally a boring bloke.
The ep was also going to be darker, with the dad having lied about his dead wife and suffering a full-on breakdown when he faces up to the fact that she left him. As it developed, that felt like a leap too far, and it also got a bit lighter because of...
The serial - Doctors_serial_ep1.pdf
I was excited to bag this episode because it had two good hooks that worked together well, and resonated nicely with my guest story. Sometimes you have to work harder to get the different elements to meld and to build a cliffhanger, but this episode already wanted to be written.
The serial dictated some changes though. It was very much about couples, love stories. This made me focus more on Luke/Saskia as the heart of the guest story, rather than the parent/child aspect that had inspired it.
It might seem like a lot of the work is done for you in the serial document, but there's also a good deal of room to take the beats and make them your own. For instance, I had to show Ruth's edginess, but how, if she couldn't tell anyone? I took the Easter egg hunt element and ran with it, filling her pockets with chicks and eggs.
Likewise, the planetarium was a given, but what occurred was largely down to me. It went through a few incarnations and we ended up chucking out the 'tender confessions' because it felt better unsaid. This was just one of the changes that came in whilst I was...
Writing the episode
The episode went through a scene-by-scene treatment (around 6pp long) and four drafts before getting locked off for production. The big changes happened early.
The main note I had to grapple with was getting the Luke/Saskia relationship right. In the original idea, it was quite vague about how close they were, but my producer quite rightly made me pin down what had happened in the past so that we knew what was at stake. It's a big thing on Doctors to know why the change has to happen to your character TODAY. The job interview and Aggie's conjunctivitis were driving the change TODAY, but if where Luke had to end up was in a relationship with Saskia, that had to be set up more clearly as a goal, even if Luke was blind to it to begin with.
Other changes were more practical. The treatment included Saskia's house and Luke's interview, but my location count was getting out of control so I had to cut it down. That's okay. Working within boundaries can help you to be more creative.
Another reason for the changes to the Simon/Will conversations was because Will's character was still evolving. It's tricky to nail the voice of a new character. Smithy was easier because he'd been in the show before. However we did change the hook, as it seemed OTT to have him looming like that. In fact, it felt more menacing for him to be gentle. That's one of changes I was pleased with in....
The final product
Remember, we're only interested in the storytelling now - if I criticise something, it's my work I'm slagging, no one else's execution of it (for the record, I think they did me proud). So, what do we reckon?
My first impression is that generally the serial worked better than the guest story. There was so much to set up in those first scenes - the interview, financial straits, frisson with Saskia - and I could probably have done a better job. Perhaps there was a more elegant way to relate it or perhaps there should just have been less to relate.
I think the guest story caught light after that. The big moments seemed to work - Luke leaving Aggie alone, Michelle realising that, Luke cracking up. I also like that Michelle didn't help Luke initially. That felt like a nice change.
I think I slightly laboured Saskia lying for Luke, and then rushed the resolution. The relationship angle got a bit lost. I wonder if deep down the parent/child story was still too central for the relationship side to really flower in the time and space we had. I haven't checked yet, but I think some of the story was cut and it does strike me now that the guest element may have been a touch too big for an episode with such strong serial.
I felt the serial turned out well, the planetarium scenes especially. I'm really glad we left the actors to tell the story with their looks and the handholding. I also liked Smithy and Ruth, the switch from romance to it all falling apart, and the ominous burnt cake in the oven. I don't know if I was 100% successful in conveying Ruth's growing unease during the day. There may have been more cuts, but I might just have been too subtle. How might you have conveyed I?
Perhaps perversely, I really loved the Zara and Charlie moments, which only had a secondary function, to support the stories and provide a little light relief. But then I do think it's easier for me to relax and enjoy the bits where there's less storytelling at stake. And more mucky jokes.
Over to you
Having banged on at inordinate length, I just want to add one final thing - this is a 'How It Was', not a 'How To' guide. In no way am I putting this up as a model episode to emulate. You have to do your own thing, it's the only way to get your voice heard. That's why it'll be interesting to hear how you'd have done it differently.
Given this serial, what other ways would you have found to play it out? If this was your guest story, what changes might you bring to make it your own? You don't have to answer right now, or ever really. Just go scoff chocolate eggs and have a think about it, maybe have a scribble. And have a very happy Easter!
[edit: in response to the request, here is the script CATCHING_script.pdf]
