Running up that road, running up that hill with erm… well.

“If I only could, I’d make a deal with God.” Says Kate Bush. Well, god wasn’t available so I made a deal with myself instead.

Anyone who knows me knows that I run. Nothing more serious than a weekly 5k parkrun, I’m no Steve Cram. But some weekdays I take myself for a 10k circle round the streets. Now I live on the middle of a hill so whichever direction I choose to run, I will be tackling a hill at the start and finish.

For this morning’s run, I took myself up the hill knowing that 45 minutes later, my round trip will bring me back to the bottom. So I spend the run making deals with myself. If I take that turning, adding another 5 minutes, I’ll let myself stop at the bottom of the hill and walk up.

As I got closer to the finish, I considered this hill. Over the years, I’ve run up it loads of times but lately it’s taken on a reputation for being unconquerable.

Fine, I say. Phil, if you don’t WANT to do it, don’t do it. There are no ‘have tos’. But if you’re avoiding it because you’re scared, what else are you going to avoid out of fear if we don’t break that habit now?

 

I’m currently working with a TV script editor, writing a trial script, hoping to prove myself good enough to get hired. An actual proper TV writing gig. This is what I’ve been working towards for years, a culmination of hard work, determination. A big scary hill to run up.

Last week, I had to submit my first assignment and I was scared, almost to the point of paralysis. Sitting on things, putting it off. Maybe somehow if I kept putting it off, I wouldn’t fail. Insane, irrational, ridiculous.

Stupid thing was, as with my morning hill, I’d been here before. Every writing assignment, every script submission, every pitch is a big scary hill to run up. What am I going to do? Give up and not go home ever again? Walk and let opportunity run past me?

It wasn’t fast but it was determined, it was the best I could do and yes, I collapsed in a breathless heap when I reached my front door. But I ran it.

And the TV gig? Of course, I got it finished and sent it off, still feeling the fear. And I got notes back quicker than I expected, good helpful, encouraging notes. The next hill is still scary but I know it can be done.

Now, as I guzzle water and stare out of my window at the other runners going by, I know their grit, see their determination, I feel able to cheer them on.

So what’s your scary hill today?

 

 

Does gender matter to Time Lords?



Could Phoebe Waller-Bridge, star and writer of Fleabag be the next Doctor?

My mate Dom Carver has expressed an opinion and sparked a (mostly good natured) debate. He’s not against a female Doctor but (if I’m reading his comments right) wants it for a better reason than box ticking and diversity. His blog on the subject is here. Since the good Doctor is a particular passion of mine, I had to wade in.

My question is this:

Has there EVER been an ‘in-story’ reason for the Doctor being in a certain form?

When the Doctor first changed form back in 1966 it was because of William Hartnell’s ill health. The Doctor, “his old body wearing a bit thin” collapses in the TARDIS and changes before our very eyes – not just his face but also his clothes! – and becomes Patrick Troughton. No explanation given, he just pops up, a new man, younger sure but this isn’t just a rejuvenated version of the same character, Troughton brings an entirely new whimsical personality. And rightly so. But we’re expected to accept it. If the Doctor had any reason for choosing this persona, he’s keeping it to himself.

It’s only at the end of Troughton’s run that we start to explore the concept of regeneration. Captured by his own people and forced to “change appearance” as part of his punishment he’s given a number of options. So Time Lords it appears CAN choose.

On this occasion the decision is made for him and it appears, since the Doctor is at the moment of his death for his next few regenerations, deciding his next form is probably not uppermost in his thoughts. Indeed, Peter Davison’s 5^th Doctor laments in the mirror “that’s the trouble with regeneration, you’re never sure what you’re going to get.” A comment reiterated by Sylvester McCoy’s 7^th Doctor when he thinks his new personality is sulky and bad tempered thanks to regeneration “lottery”.

Colin Baker as old Sixy. On a good day.

If any Doctor has an ‘in-universe’ explanation for his appearance (or personality at least) it’s the brash, egotistical 6^th Doctor played by Colin Baker who emerges from a ‘turbulent’ regeneration, throttles his companion then prances around time and space in a pantomime costume.

But as far as casting any new Doctor goes, it tends to be as a contrast to what’s gone before (accessible youngster Davison as opposed to googly eyed alien Tom Baker or older Capaldi following young Matt Smith) or down to nothing more than finding the best person (man or woman, gay or straight, white , black, whatever) for the job.

Peter Capaldi’s Doctor apparently ‘choosing’ the face of some random human he saved a few seasons ago to remind him to be good is a bit of unnecessary retconning. They didn’t address that Colin Baker had played rotten Commander Maxil in the season before he took over.

Having a specific reason for deciding your protagonist’s traits is obviously vital when you’re writing anything. I agree totally with Dom that you shouldn’t shoe horn in a disabled muslim lesbian copper because it’s considered PC, it has to fit the story you want to tell.

But Doctor Who is a special case. The Doctor is the springboard for the story not the other way round. If that were the case, each Doctor would have an arc mapped out before the actor donned the scarf and what would be the point of that?



Going, going...

The Doctor’s (or actor’s) personality should dictate the stories and send the writers off in new wonderful directions. Maybe that’s a good a reason as any to cast a woman in the role. It will allow for stories that could never be told before.

To be honest though, whether the Doctor’s a man or woman doesn’t really matter. It’s still the same character running through weekly machinations and monsters with a quip and a clever last minute plan. The Doctor just is. We don’t need to know the whys and wherefores. We just have to accept and jump aboard for a fun, thrilling TARDIS ride.

Will Phoebe Waller-Bridge be brandishing the sonic lipstick soon? For her sake, I hope not. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love a female Doctor. But with Pheobe’s star currently on the up, I’d hate for her to pin herself down to this one all-encompassing series this early or even worse, be so busy with other stuff, she gets too big for Doctor Who and can only fit in a few feature length episodes every couple of years. Yes, Mssrs Cumberbatch and Freeman, I’m looking at YOU. 

But as for in-story reasons, this is where fanfiction is our friend. How about the Doctor doing it in honour of Missy, his wayward friend that he spent the last thousand years trying to redeem? Actually, taking it to that extreme, is Michelle Gomez still in the building?

 

Philip has written episodes of Big Finish's Doctor Who audios and is available to join Team Chibnal, whatever gender the Doctor is. Just saying.

Raise your voice.

There are tons of writers out there. I mean seriously, loads. For every open submission window there are hundreds if not thousands of scripts jumping up and down in front of the readers screaming “pick me! pick me!”

But guess what. There’s only one YOU. And if you can hone exactly what that is, you could be onto a winner. We are told there are no new stories. And sure, we live in an era surrounded by great films, TV shows, books that feed into us, sometimes without us even realising, so it’s hard not to dream up something derivative. But a bold script that offers a new perspective will make a reader, agent, producer sit up and take notice.

So you have a script. A witty protagonist, a deadly antagonist, a love story sub plot, a fight, some tears maybe even a car chase. But what is your story ABOUT? It’s about a woman who has to rob a bank to feed her kids. No. What is it really ABOUT?

What are you trying to say to your audience? What is your perspective on the world and what are you aching to change? What injustices are you fighting? What desperate emotional need are you serving every time you hit the keys of your laptop? What is your VOICE?

My first play was called “It’s Behind You!” a bit of a camp carry-on style romp, set in the faded fairy-tale land of Pantoville. A young Essex lad ditches his pregnant bride at the altar and finds himself lost in Pantoville amid a series of grisly murders with jilted bride in pursuit. Turns out he’s gay and unable to admit it until he starts to fall for a boy in Pantoville. It all ends happily ever after, natch, even for bride not-to-be Karen.

After seeing the show a friend of mine said “it’s very much your voice.” At the time I didn’t really understand what she meant. But the more I wrote, plays, short stories, scripts, the more I realised I kept coming back to the themes of "It's Behind You!"

“It’s in our ‘all is lost’ moments that our writers' voice is burned.” 

Jen Grisanti, speaking at The London Screenwriters Festival 2016

Growing up as a gay man in the 70s/80s devoid of decent role models, bullied just for being different has left me with a very deep scar. Consequently lot of my work explores themes of identity, not just being gay but being different to the norm and finding the courage to be one's self. It’s a passion of mine to champion people that aren’t properly represented and give voice to diversity – especially in the current climate of isolationism and the rise of fascism around the world.

There are other traumas since that have given me other themes that are prevalent in my more recent work. I revisit grief a fair bit at the moment. But it’s finding these universal truths within ourselves and mining them that will make our work resonate with others. This, I think is the real meaning of "write what you know".

But the trouble with our voices is they tend to come from dark places, our deepest fears and darkest traumas that we’d rather not revisit. Though if you take an honest look at your scripts, chances are, you’re already touching on those subjects. Now be bold and look directly into the eyes of the beast.

Many fledgling spec scripts lack conflict. I know I’ve been there. It comes from a subconscious unwillingness to really grapple with the topic. Surely it’s OK if Ethel and Albert get over their differences with a meaningful look then put the kettle on? NO. Your characters are there to feel those deep emotions for you. Really put them through the wringer, chuck everything at them that you’re shying away from.

What’s that Ethel? You feel like you’ve been in a loveless marriage for 40 years? Oh Albert, how does that make you feel? What? You’ve been deliberately making Ethel’s life hell because she looked at that sailor funny in 1974? Here, have some weapons and duke it out in a poignant black comedy. 

If they survive, Ethel and Albert will emerge stronger, having learned something. So will you. And so will your script.

But you don’t need to have lived 40 years of loveless hell like Ethel. In fact you may think that you haven’t lived enough yet. You’re quite a settled person, you don’t have that kind of trauma in your life. Really? Take another look at the work you’re creating. What’s it really saying to you? The more you write the more you’ll realise you keep returning to certain themes.

And our voices evolve and change the more we explore our reality. You’ll find other people writing about similar subjects. With any luck you’ll be hitting the zeitgeist and people will snap up your work. Keep going and you’ll be ahead of it, then you really will be in demand.

And once you know what your voice is, you can refine it and use it.

“Go dancing naked in the rain, then come back

and tell us what it was like.” 

Kate Leys, speaking at The London Screenwriters Festival 2015

I’m about to apply for a writing competition according to a brief. I’m choosing between a bunch of suitable ideas but I’m thinking how can I make my story stand out? The answer – by being true to my voice and writing what I’m passionate about. 

Sure, it may not hit home with the readers as they sift hundreds/ thousands of entries but it will have a better chance than if I try and second guess what they want and end up with something bland and passionless that's thrown out without a second glance.

Fortune favours the bold. In this era where competition is fiercer than ever your secret weapon is your uniqueness. Find it. Use it. I look forward to seeing your work on telly soon.

Going Rogue

There absolutely IS room for more Star Wars stories. 

Tonally different side-steps into other planets and cultures? Yes please. In an era where every movie studio is desperate to create their own series of linked Marvel-esque movies Star Wars is a ready-made galaxy far, far away ripe for exploration. 

I just don’t think Rogue One is the best example of how to do it.

On the plus side, it feels like a different kind of movie. No opening crawl this time, but a flashback to a young Jyn. By the time we see her rescued from an Imperial prison we can surmise the troubled journey she’s been on. So far so good.

It’s the other characters that need some help.

Ok, looking them up on IMDB Chirrut Imwe and Baze Malbus
don’t seem so unpronounceable but if you’d asked me their names
straight after the movie I'd have been clueless.

Star Wars has a history of throwing together a disparate band of misfits that overcome their differences to achieve the heroic. Rogue One certainly has its merry band and full marks for different ethnicities and accents. But backstories are non-existent and names are just a step too far from the norm to be instantly comprehensible.

As such, I found it really hard to engage with these people or care what happens to them. And if it was in the dialogue, the reason for Imwe and Malbus being on Jedha was lost on me.

With all the rumours of reshoots and rewrites buzzing in my head and with awesome bits from the trailer simply not there I wonder if we’re not getting the film as it was originally intended. Have the characters been softened? There is a lot of deliciously grey morality about. Jyn has been to prison, her dad helped build the death star, Ando kills a comrade within moments of his intro and Jyn’s mentor figure (while lacking any great story function) is acknowledged as a terrorist.

None of the characters get a particularly heroic death, another reason to suppose that they should all have been morally ambiguous. Would I have engaged more if they had more grit?

There’s a lot to love about Rogue One

but it’s a film that didn’t have to be made.

I sound like I hated it, I didn’t. As an old school fan there is a LOT to love about Rogue One. It really does flesh out the Empire era of the Star Wars galaxy and show planets and people beyond the main conflict.

It’s undeniably a Star Wars film with plenty of laser guns, spectacular space battles, glorious visuals (the death star hanging in the sky above Skarif is beautiful) and crazy architecture with consoles at the end of precarious gantries – no place for vertigo in the Empire! 

It’s just that I expect, no, we deserve better.

While it seems generally accepted that Uncle George’s prequels were a bad lot, it’s strange to go back and mine the same territory again unless you’re going to do something different or improve on it. Rogue One does neither.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s nothing like the bland CG-fests of Episodes 1-3 but while Lucas peppered his prequels with new characters that fired the imagination and potentially outshone the main protagonists (Step forward Jango Fett, Zam Wessel, Mace Windu and even Yoda) here the heroes seem to be playing second fiddle to the main saga with too many ‘for the fans’ cameos and references and villains upon villains that only indirectly impact on our main cast.

Given that we’ve never heard of these characters beyond Rogue One and go in assuming none of them are getting out alive, it’s a disappointment that none of them do. What better way to surprise and subvert our expectations?

Instead Rogue One has an inevitability about it that’s almost mechanical in its execution right up to its CGI Princess Leia who’s so placid and chipper, it’s like she’s been dropped in from another movie rather than caught up in the massive space battle that’s just occurred. And while I’m thinking about it, just what was the Tantive V doing docked inside a Mon Calimari capital ship rather than out there fighting? Did someone say ‘contrived’?

More than that, with the death star plans randomly beamed into space where any of the rebel ships could have received them, including those that escaped doesn’t it rather take away the sense of urgency from Princess Leia’s subsequent mission?

What it all amounts to is that as nice, cosy and nostalgic as it may be to see the death star firing sequence recreated, Peter Cushing resurrected and Darth Vader swishing his lightsabre, Rogue One is a film that absolutely didn’t need to be made.

In fandom, it’s commonly known as fanwank, an obsessive need to fill in every continuity gap. This is Space Opera, not Soap Opera. We don’t need to see the moment Bail Organa decides to send for Obi Wan Kenobi. In fact, the more of these self-indulgent moments we see, the more it takes away from the original.

So the rebel boffins didn’t find a way to destroy the death star, it was designed that way by Galen Erso. I know he needed to keep it hidden but couldn’t he have made it easier? At least design fewer gun turrets along that trench.

Luke Skywalker looking to the horizon, yesterday.

And when the pros are serving up fanwank, where is there for fans to go? What stories are left for the 8 year olds to dream up with their Christmas action figures? Maybe better ones than are being served to them.

This makes me somewhat reticent about further spin-offs that try to plunder the ghost of Star Wars past. What further nods and cameos will be shoehorned into the Han Solo or (rumoured) Boba Fett movies. Surely it’s better and more exciting to make companion pieces to the latest trilogy? What if Po Dameron had a side adventure between chapters? How about a story that fleshes out the woefully underused Captain Phasma?

I grew up with a Star Wars that looked to the horizon. The future. Excitement. Come on Star Wars, enough naval gazing. You’re better than this.

The Writer Bubble

 
For a long while I’ve been going to networking dos for writers. They’re great. Vital, even. Catching up with friends, forming new relationships. Sometimes writers at the same level, sometimes a bit further along the path willing to shine a torch on the road ahead of you, other times writers just starting out to whom you can pass the benefit of your experience thus far.

But hanging out with only writers can in itself be a comfort zone and that’s a one way ticket to Rutsville.



Yes, many of us writers also produce, script edit and get stuff made but we do also need to find dedicated producers that want to work with us, connect with other people in the industry, script editors, TV execs, commissioners.

We need to stop thinking of these people as gate keepers trying to keep us out and more like, well… people. Friends, colleagues that you are going to have a fabulous time working with.

“Oh, I can’t talk to them, I’m only a writer.”

I was very lucky. My ticket to the International Drama Summit at Content London 2016 came to me free as a finalist in the C21 Drama script competition. At nearly £400 it’s not cheap. But getting out of the writer bubble gives you a different perspective on the business and makes it seem less scary and impenetrable.



So began three amazing days of sessions and speakers from across the globe, all about the gogglebox. Many of them were on the creative side – Tony Jordan, Jed Mercurio, Marnie Dickens, Tom Basden and Anna Winger ON THE SAME PANEL!!! - while others were more business-skewed like the session on Drama finance after “Brexit”.

Polly Hill from ITV. Not keeping you out.

And it was a level playing field. No us and them. No green room. Everyone in the business together. No egoes, no “oh, I can’t talk to them, I’m only a writer.” Everyone friendly, good natured and receptive. One minute you’re on the escalator with a showrunner from South Africa, the next you’re chatting in the coffee queue to an American producer with $$$ burning a hole in his pocket, desperate for a good script.

As a writer trying to knock on the door of telly, I came away feeling there ISN’T someone trying to keep us out. Sure, we have to have a certain level of skill and that comes with time and hard work. But if you’ve got stories to tell, people want to hear them.

These are my top tips based on the things I was hearing at C21.

• Don’t be afraid to tell YOUR story. It’s unique to you and that’s what they want. Don’t try and skew it to fit an existing formula. Producers, program makers and ultimately audiences want to be surprised. But whatever you do, tell it with PASSION.
"Avoid the middle at all costs. Go for extremes."
Jane Tranter (Producer, Bad Wolf Productions)

• We all have something to say. The wounds in our lives that we’re trying work through in our writing. Drill down and find yours. Go to the places you don’t want to go within yourself to find what you’re really about. Then write that. 

"If you want to be universal, be specific."

Sarah Phelps (Writer, And Then There Were None)

• “Auteur driven” was on everyone’s lips. They want the next Fleabag – but that doesn’t mean you have to star in it or have your main character talk to the camera (see point 1 above). They want dramas that are so specific to that writer’s voice, experience and worldview. Intimacy and specificity are the key.

"Small, intimate, worthy can still be big in scope.

Universal themes in International Shows."

Sharon Tal Yguado (EVP, Fox Networks Group)

• Think of your audience. Given what’s going on politically it’s clear that great swathes of people feel unrepresented and this applies to TV too. It’s an image of Britain we like to export but not everyone lives in Downton Abbey. Not everyone is middle class and owns their own home. Not every woman is Olivia Coleman. If you’re worried you’ve got nothing to say because you grew up on a housing estate, didn’t get a media degree and you’re not a white heterosexual man, stop worrying and get writing.

"Entertain the people who have been missed out."

Greg Brennan (Producer, Drama Republic)

Above all, the main message from C21 was "Make great content and audiences will come."

Philip is the winner of the C21 Drama Script competition and was mentored for his final pitch by Tony Jordan.

 

Mad man in a blue box. With a pen.

 

I once met Steven Moffat in 2001 when he was able to be just a regular fan. Doctor Who had been off the air pretty much for 12 years. We argued.

Now in 2016, Doctor Who’s a massive BBC flagship show, back on our screens for over a decade and Steven’s been in charge for the last six years or so. In that time, I’ve notched up four Big Finish Doctor Who adventures. I’m practically catching him up.

I’ve seen this guy on TV, read interviews, heard him wax lyrical at the British Screenwriters Awards last year (“Writing is HARD!” he declared) but here today, in the BBC Radio Theatre at an event orgainised by BBC Writersroom, Steven knows he’s among writers. There’s no show runner bravado, no trying to hide behind funny anecdotes, no trying to please an audience of fans. He seems very comfortable here. There’s a real honesty to his answers. I’m very pleasantly surprised. And I’m not arguing.

Next to him is endearing and impossibly youthful script editor Nick Lambon and expertly guided by Gavin Collinson we’re given a warts-n-all glimpse into writing for this prime time show. It sounds chaotic, frenetic but great fun.

Big thanks to Gavin, Celia and Anne at the
Writers Room for organising this event

But you’re here for the scoop aren’t you. How do you, as a new writer get to work on Doctor Who? We’ll get to that in a sec.

The biggest thing I took from this talk was hearing about Steven’s process. Turns out we’re not that dissimilar. “Accept that you know nothing.” he says. When someone of his longevity and profile says he starts every new script feeling like an amateur, struggling to remember how to do it, it makes you feel better that you do the same, right?

Discipline. He writes rigidly in chronological order. He thinks up a brilliant scene, the kind of scene that will blow the audience away. The kind of scene you want to write first. Does he jump to it? Have his pudding before his mains? No. It has to be earned. So he makes sure he has an “unbreakable iron chain of good scenes” to get there. And you know what? Once you reach that ‘brilliant’ scene, it’s been upstaged by the excellent scenes you ‘ve just written and it has to up its game.

Rough first drafts? Absolutely not. Only hand in something that you would be happy for them to go away and make NOW. Have the attitude that “It’s perfect and I’m prepared to change it all.”

Steven doesn't think Blink counts as a Doctor
Who adventure: the Doctor's hardly in it.

OK, so what about us newbie Whoie writers?

The trouble with Doctor Who, where the only constant is ‘alien humanoid travels in time machine’ (and even that isn’t true of EVERY episode!) is that there is no typical Doctor Who script. No magic formula. Many submissions “don’t get it” or aren’t interesting. Others throw in every idea at once. The best advice from Steven: “Treat it as if you own it. Don’t revere it.” The main thing is keeping people entertained for 45 minutes on a Saturday night.

Apparently, “being good at pitching will make you bad at writing.” Don’t be too prescriptive about what you’re pitching. Give the idea rather than “a scale model of your script”. A writer should always change their mind. A pitch like “what if the Ice Warriors took over a nuclear sub in the 1980s?” puts across the exciting idea but is general enough on plot to give the writer freedom. Don’t be tied to your pitch, you need to be always thinking of something better.

And when you get that commission, write as explicitly as possible and be precise about action. Never censor your scenes according to what you think is or isn’t achievable. It’s the sequence you least expect that causes the trouble. It’s not the space battle between the Autons and the Slitheen, it’s the fact that the TARDIS can’t land in a low ceilinged room!

You have three/four weeks to do your script by the way. Bags of time.

Over all, it sounds like writing Doctor Who is just as seat-of-your-pants as the good Doctor’s adventures themselves.

 

 

 

Is this a good time to mention my next Big Finish audio THE FIFTH TRAVELLER is out this month?

Can I help you?

NETWORKING! ARRGHH! SCARY.

I used to have a big fear of ‘Networking’ and convinced myself I was useless at it.
Scarily driven people with agendas, surgically working the room, performing hit and run manoeuvres on the influential folk to get their business card before heading off to the next party/ function/ bar. All very clinical and not my sort of thing at all.

As an actor, I always found it hard to be self promoting. As a fundamentally self effacing person (as brilliant an actor as I may be- ok self effacing only applies in person) I found it hard to push myself forward as a product.

It was only as a writer that I started to find my networking feet. With a script, I had something to promote. A tangible object which, even though it very much came from me, was able to stand on its own merits. Here was something I could express great self belief in without feeling like I was a conceited, self obsessed dick.

And this afforded me a new perspective on the whole networking thing. Once I was able to scrape away the nerves and start to see beyond my own insecurities, it wasn’t scary at all. There’s nothing wrong or cynical about being focussed and driven. But networking can and should be more friendly than the surgical approach and doesn’t have to be conducted constantly looking over the person’s head to see if there’s someone more useful to talk to.
Suddenly it became obvious that networking wasn’t about ‘what can these people to for me’ and much more of about ‘what can I do for them?’

I went on to run a monthly creative networking night and loved smashing that ice, introducing people to someone that might be able to help them, whether with advice or as a collaborator. When you take yourself, your fears and your ego out of the equation, amazing things happen. And that’s an ethos I’ve carried into my dealings at the London Screenwriters Festival, various writing courses and associated drinks/ meet ups leading to me making some wonderful friends which in turn has led to leads and vital industry contacts for all of us.

Tonight I will be at the Black List Happy Hour in London catching up with some of those lovely people and meeting fabulous new ones. It's a great, relaxed place to recharge the creative batteries and remind yourself you're part of a creative industry, not some loner sat in front of a screen. 

If you’re there, say hello, it'd be great to meet you.

So what CAN I do for you? 

Philip is a script writer, editor, reader, illustrator, creative good egg.