the slack daily

How to Rock a Premiere...

 

This Saturday, February 4th at 8:30pm, How to Rock premieres on Nickelodeon!

But that’s not all…right after the premiere you get a bonus episode of How to Rock, “How to Rock a Messy Bet” written by me!

So tune in this Saturday! Check your local listings for details.

(Click to embiggen.)

Say Goodnight, Gracie.

In the late 70s, George Burns starred in Oh God and Oh God, Book II. The movies were in a constant loop on cable a summer later. My brother Jeremy and I watched them over and over (and over and over) until we could recite them from memory. One day, my mom had had enough.

It wasn't that we were spending our summer inside, planted on a scratchy wool cushions of the sofa and slurping back Pepsi Lights, but that George Burns was so much more than what we were seeing.

That evening she took us out for our favorite candy (chocolate covered raisins for me, something gummy-ike for Jer, I think) and then we crowded around the glow of the TV for the "Burns and Allen Show." During commerical breaks Mom told us about  Gracie Allen and George Burns rose through the ranks of vaudeville, then radio, then television.

It was in black and white and it looked old even on our new TV, but I remember being so awed at the fact that something that was written so long ago could still make me laugh and Gracie Allen was probably the first truly funny woman I had ever seen.   

Later that year, our 4th grade teacher at Ben Franklin School (Mrs. Keen?) taught us how to write formal letters. The assignment was to pick people you looked up to, and ask them for an autographed picture. She would take care of sending the letters off.

The year was 1982, and most kids chose to write the cast of Star Wars.

My mom told me that Gracie Allen died before I was born, so I chose to write to George Burns.

Over the next few months, letters would come back in care of Ben Franklin School. Autographed photos of Mark Hamill and Harrison Ford and Carrie Fisher. And then one day, an envelope came for me.

I forgot about the letter until yesterday, when a package arrived on my doorstep from SlackMom. 

 

Dear Nina

Thank you for the nice letter. I'm just sorry I couldn't get around to answering it sooner. I'm very honored that you chose me. I thought a letter would be nicer than a picture.

It's nice to know that today, kids still look up to someone. It's a nice feeling. I had my heroes when I was young. Abe Lincoln. Thomas Jefferson. I knew Jefferson personally. That's a joke.

I'm not really that old. I'm older. Anyway, sweetie, stay happy and healthy.

Love

George Burns

 

He sent it from Hollywood Center Studios Which is not far from where I spend my days writing comedy now.

Thank you, Mr. Burns. And goodnight, Gracie.*

*Lizzie McGuire won a Gracie Allen Award for comedy in 2003. How cool is that?

In Case You Missed It.

TWENTY DAYS LATER

We're twenty days into this whole 2011 project. I know! I didn't think that 2011 would last, but it seems to have caught on with the kids.

Crowdsourcing New Year's Resolutions was somewhat of a bust. Those who did participate said I should:

1. Make more corny sex jokes. I CAN MAKE IT HAPPEN.

2. Do more public speaking. I would love to. I actually LIKE speaking in public. Mostly because I'm insane, but also because I'm someone who loves to perform but it shy about doing so, so participating on panels and gving short talks feeds my insane ego.

3. Get back on BetheMarriage. This is something I've been thinking about as well. But if it comes back, I need it to be better. Different. And the brainspace that is required is being rented out for various other opportunities. But I swear, it's on the table.

4. Write more about Lizzie McGuire. Check.

And that's it. Maybe you've resolved to participate more, but it's really my fault. Emails have been pouring in by the tens asking me where I am. One of my resolutions is always is to write more, and in this case, it's been happening. Just not here.

I think a lot about the buffet of social media options, what I use and why.

Twitter I use to be a smartass and fine-tune my very rusty comedy skills (as a result, you can also now find me on WitStream!), as well as socialize with my friends.

Tumblr I use to write thoughts that are longer than Twitter and shorter than a blog post. I also use it to make posts that I want other people to share. (Like is Gwyenth Paltrow an Andy Kaufman experience in my yet-to-be- memefied What If Wednesday.)

Facebook I use to keep tabs on my friends and see if ex-friends have gotten fat. SHUT UP WE ALL DO IT.

The Slack Daily I use when I have something that's longer than a thought and a punchline.

...

So I haven't been around much, because I've been using those thoughts and punchlines (just add character + story) to my WRITINGwriting which is the stuff I'm being paid (or will eventually be paid) to do.

I'm writing more.

I've been prioritizing that over things like sunlight, food, sleep and personal hygiene.  Ripped right from the headlines of Sheila E's "Glamorous Life."

I've always wanted to be a Warren Ellis, or my new friend Chuck Wendig (I call him a friend because I think that's what you call someone with whom you discuss hobo handjobs over Skype, yes?) who churn out words (good words, at that) at an impressive rate. But one doesn't turn into Warren Ellis overnight - there's simply not enough whisky.  However, inventing the term pudding-fucking insane is a start.

So that's where I've been, and that's what I'm doing.

The point is, my darlings, I'm always somewhere. And you're always welcome to find me. (ON THE INTERNET YOU PERVS.)

 

 

Men of a Certain Twitter.

I've been vocal about my thoughts regarding how Hollywood - writers, specifically - have been slow to investigate new technologies.  While all of these new technologies and tools can be opportunities for new ways to tell stories, they can also be a way to take the temperature of an audience - sometimes one that you weren't even aware that you had.

I'm always shocked at who follows me on Twitter. Right before Christmas, I was absolutel delighted to discover this in my inbox:

 

It made me reconsider posting about Daisy's flatulence and the nasty rash on my ankle from my air cast.

Last night I was watching Men of a Certain Age, a show that I season pass. I realize I'm not the target audience, but I love Andre Braugher, Scott Bakula, and it's nice to see Raymond finally gettin' some. The writing is good, and although I find their female to be a bit one-dimensional (except for Owen's wife, Melissa), I appreciate the fact that they're creating entertainment for a demographic that has a tendency to be forgotten.  And while I'm not in that demographic, I appreciate good storytelling.

But I'm also a smartass. Last night, I posted this after the show:

 

A few moments later, this showed up in my mentions column:

That's Mike Royce, Co-Creator & Executive Producer of Men Of a Certain Age.

I exlained that I liked last night's episode, that I was being a smartass, but that I fet the women were a little one-dimensional. However, I also said that I understand that the show is MEN of a Certain Age, and that the TV process is a bit like a hot dog factory: there's a lot of pieces that go into creating the perfect all-beef frank.  I've spent plenty of years in the TV Writing Mines not to know this.

 

 

When I was working on MTV's Savage County, I had a few vocal detractors on Twitter, but instead of getting offended or huffy, I pressed them to discover what could I have done better? That's what makes me a better writer, a better creator, and in the end creates more fans.

If I found out that Mike Royce was on Twitter and didn't respond to anyone, I wouldn't think much of it. And yes, it's easy to respond to fans of your work. The fact that he chose to engage with someone who was being a smartass by not being a smartass is a classy move, and one that I hope that all creators - not just TV - will take advantage of.

 

Men of a Certain Age airs Mondays at 10/9c on TNT.

Mike Royce on Twitter.

Me on Twitter.

 

 

Mr. Peabody & his Boy WTF?

About a thousand and a half years ago, I wrote (with my then writing-partner brother) on a show called Romeo!

I am not excited. The show was called Romeo!

That's Romeo-Exclamation-Point. I'm not a fan of the mandatory use of punctuation in show titles. It's a little desperate. As in see, no, it's a really new and exciting show and you can tell people there's an exclamation point or we used that question mark because we're not sure that it's actually going to happen even though we know it already did I'm looking at you Bethenny Getting Married?(!)

Romeo! was...an experience.

Let's Talk Bizness.

1. Willya look at that? It's me being interviewed for Your Industry Insider. (Thanks to Julia for the hook-up.)

2. My job is in your hands! Tell MTV what to do!  Demand to see Savage County!

Savage County Official Trailer from Savage County on Vimeo.

(Just click on the demand link and it'll get you where you need to go.)

In Case You Were Wondering.

There comes a time in every script when you think it's done.

Then you discover it isn't.

It's an odd thing, writing. You don't ever have to release it into the universe (although you should, if you plan on ever making a living.) I have found myself on that end of the spectrum more times than I can count: finish, then make it better. My comfort zone is an ever-expanding thing: half-hour single camera; animation; tween novels; world-building. I'm a big believer in JUST SAY YES.

For the last year an idea has been buzzing around my head, something that I am uniquely qualified to write. It was imagined as a novel, became a half-hour spec pilot, and in the last round of notes with my incredibly patient and supportive manager, has become the thing it should have been from the beginning: the one-hour spec pilot.

Years ago, my first agent took me aside and said you should write a one-hour. But I was working on Lizzie McGuire, and the road of kids' TV seemed never-ending. Sitcoms still existed. There were jobs to be had.

Here I am, years later, surrounded by reams of notes and a script ripped in two. I've been reading pilots for the past couple of days, jotting things down in my notebook and on notecards. The ideas keep coming but I haven't been able to wrangle this story into submission. 

I'm reminded of my first days working in animation, when I realized I could do anything. I wasn't hindered by sets or actors or the laws of physics. I don't know why it's taken me this long, except that it has.

It's a little bit exciting and a whole lot terrifying. 

So that's where I am. In case you were wondering.

Why I Don't Get Writer's Block.

One of the top three questions I'm asked when people find out I'm a writer is how do you deal with writer's block? (The other two are do you make any money? and No, really, but what do you DO?)

I have a simple answer: I don't.

Writer's block is a luxury, and one that I can't afford.

Of course, there's a romantic ideal of the novelist, sitting in front of his (of course he's male!) battered typewriter (because he is quirky!), slugging whiskey (writers drink!) while swearing at the blank page.

Cursed be, this writer's block that strangles my muse!

Uh, no.

If someone held a gun to your head and said start typing, bub, you'd start to type. Would it be good? Good god, no. But you'd be able to say something. Because when the options are write or death, writing isn't all that difficult a choice.

If you're being paid, you can't turn to your Executive Producer and say, gee, guys, I can't come up with anything. What you mean is I can't come up with anything good.

My guess is most writer's block is: I can't come up with anything good.

That's not writer's block.

Working in TV, you have to produce the next episode. It doesn't matter if inspiration has struck or not. And to be honest inspiration rarely strikes when you're mid-season and you've been working long days and writing and re-writing and oh, dear god are they OUT OF JUMBO RED VINES?! and you're sitting in a room or in front of an EP who's waiting for the next brilliant idea. This is where you learn how to pitch. Your idea may be crap, but you sell the hell out of it and figure out how to make it good later.

Because that's what 99% of writing is: figuring out how to make it good later.

When someone is paying you, you can't have writer's block. Because missing deadlines means that they won't be paying you again. It's tough enough to keep working in this business (see: me.) Don't actually give them an excuse.

Do I always write? No. That's because some days I'm simply working on breeding ideas, and some days I'm just lazy. However, I have never missed a deadline, and in some cases, I have been sent off on script on a Tuesday and had a workable table draft by Friday. (I don't like to work this way, but the point is I can.)

That's not writer's block.

Some days I flit from project to project, not exactly sure where to spend my creative capital (my manager has been EXTREMELY helpful with this) but that's not writer's block. That's having creative ADD.

Occasionally I sit down at the computer with an idea but no clue as where to go. Which means I need to think more about my story. That's not writer's block, that's a lack of preparation.

Maybe you're working a day job, and you come home dead tired. That's okay. That's not writer's block, that's so many hours in a day.

Obviously, you always want to come up with something good. But sometimes inspiration doesn't strike. So you can sit around and wait for it to happen, or you can make it happen. (Which sometimes means spending more time rewriting than writing the damned thing.)

And that's why I don't get Writer's Block.

What Are You Working On?

I don't talk much about writing on here, because I'm the type who, to be completely honest, has a tendency to wank off on process. The hows and the whys and the plans and the schedules get in the way of actually doing things. Chances are, if I'm writing about how I'm doing it. I'm not actually doing it.

I wish I was one of those writers who likes writing. I like creating. I like characters coming to life in my head, I like spinning witty comebacks. But I hate sitting down at the computer and actually doing it.

As I've said many times before: I hate writing. I love having written.

I am not one of those people who produces pages on a daily basis. That's not to mean that I don't work every day - I do. But some of those days are notes in a TextEdit file (they're not allowed to move to Word until they form a semblance of meaning. TextEdit is for uncommitted thoughts, playing the field. Word is for when I'm ready to settle down with an idea and make it official.)

People sometimes ask me if I'm working on anything. I realize it's because I don't talk about it here. The answer is this: I'm always working on something. Every writer should always be working on something, even if it's just in the playgrounds of your head.

When put on the spot I can vomit up ideas like no one's business. I'm like the unwitting action hero, created by circumstance. Ideas aren't difficult. Follow-through is. (This is why, when someone hears that I'm a writer and they say they have an amazing idea I tell them "Great! You should write that!" and then try to politely slink away.)

Where was I? Oh yes, what am I working on? I've just finished a major rewrite of my second spec pilot - not the type where you slap on a coat of paint and finish the floors but the type where you keep the framework but you have to pull all of the guts out and completely rebuild. I've partially been avoiding it, and partially busy with 343298432 other projects (pitches, rewrites, and transmedia proposals, oh my!)

I had discussed some of my changes with Will (he is, after all, my first reader of any new material) and my manager, and for the past four weeks I have sat and stewed*. About what I wanted to say, about what my characters wanted to say, and about whether or not I wanted to see this people week after week (because, after all, isn't that what a TV series is all about?)

Will is on a business trip this week, so yesterday I dug into the script. Four weeks away from my baby and I could finally see it for what it was (not terrible, but very, very angry. Hopeless. Beyond cynical.) Nine hours later I emerged with something that wasn't what I set out to do when I first came up with this idea, but something better. Funnier. More connected.

It's still 37 pages and in need of an edit and a punch-up, but the having written part is done.

So when I'm not writing here, chances are it's because I'm writing elsewhere.

And that's what I'm working on. (Well, and these extra 15 pounds.) What are you working on?

*NOTE: This is not the same thing as Writer's Block. I have a post on Writer's Block coming up soon, promise.