This is a series of articles I've written about writing, specifically about the problems faced by (a) the new writer who isn't selling enough work yet to make a living or (b) the older writer who isn't selling as much as they used to. To read other installments, click here.
It's been a while since I posted one of these…so long that the 50-year anniversary of my career as a professional freelance writer has passed. I'm now closing in on 50.5 years of supporting myself as a writer of all sorts of things but mainly comic books, animation for television and live-action shows for television. I have occasionally been paid as a director, producer, editor, artist or letterer but I consider those adjuncts to writing. When someone asks me what I do for a living, I say with no evasion and absolutely no shame, "I'm a writer."
Here's another lesson I've learned: Don't get mad at the folks who could hire you and don't. No matter how incompetent you might think they are…no matter how blind to your talent they seem to be…no matter how they run you around and dangle you and avoid giving you a straight answer, don't get mad at them. I have met some great, benevolent and wise editors and/or producers — and I'm not saying that because they hired me because some of them didn't.
Most of those who didn't didn't because I wasn't useful to them. We discussed being "useful" in the previous installment of this column. Now, let's discuss being cautious…
Try to remember this about that person in the hiring/buying position: They usually aren't spending their own money. They were hired to buy scripts or hire writers so they have a boss. They may have numerous bosses and they don't want any of them to say, "Why did you waste all that dough on that lousy script?" One of the reasons that credits and experience matter is that they provide a dandy excuse for those who hire you.
Let's imagine for a second that I'm in a position that I never want to be in: Developing screenplays for a big movie studio.
I've been entrusted with a certain amount of buying power, which means a certain amount of cash. If I buy a screenplay from a first-time writer for $100,000 and everyone above and around me thinks it emits a foul odor and is utterly unusable, I lose a lot of stature in my job. If I do that enough times, I will lose that job.
On the other hand, say I buy a screenplay for $750,000 from a writer who's written a number of hugely successful films. As we all know, his or her past successes do not guarantee this one will be great. Look over the careers of anyone who did write one or two blockbusters and you'll almost always see a couple of gobble-gobble turkeys as well, often one right after the biggest hit. But that writer's experience and track record do improve the odds a little or a lot.
And of greater appeal to some folks with this script-buying power that I never want to have is this: If everyone above and around me thinks the experienced guy's script stinks, I'm probably in less trouble. At least I blew the three-quarters of a mil on a guy who's written movies that justified that kind of loot. It's the difference between betting on a baseball pitcher with an E.R.A. of 2.50 and one with no record at all…and it's a decision anyone at my studio would probably have made.
And like I said, it's a great excuse, which is the same reason TV networks do "testing" before they buy a show. They arrange for it to be shown to test groups and audiences whose responses and reactions are monitored and recorded and analyzed. Every so often, testing does yield useful information, especially on shows not filmed before a live audience. I was involved once with a cartoon show where the testing informed us that something like 68% of viewers found one certain character's voice very grating and annoying and 57% didn't understand one key aspect of the premise. That kind of thing can be handy to know if you apply it judiciously.
But testing obviously doesn't guarantee that a show will be a hit. If it did, networks wouldn't rapidly cancel something like eight out of every ten new shows or whatever the current ratio is. What testing can do however is to maybe save your butt when your pet project does El Floppo. You can say, "Don't blame me. The testing was through the roof on this." It's the same way with writers: "Don't blame me! This guy wrote [Name of recent hit] and signed a three-picture deal with Dreamworks!"
Examples of this principle permeate every aspect of show business. It's probably present in other businesses, as well — any field where someone has to make subjective decisions about whom to hire. But it's more visible in the entertainment industry because, first of all, hirings and firings are more visible in the entertainment industry. And also, the subjective decisions are usually much more subjective.
I was friends for many years with a wonderful man named Gary Owens who made a ton o' money with his voice. You may know him as a radio personality, as a cartoon voice artist, as a TV host, as a man who did thousands of commercials and promos, or as the announcer of Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In and many other programs. A joke he heard often from his friends and peers was "I was worried about you, Gary. I heard a commercial yesterday and you weren't on it!"
He always laughed at that line..and why not? If you were a freelancer who went from job to job every day, wouldn't you laugh if someone kidded you about being in too much demand? Oh, what a cutting insult that is for a performer.
He was often in too much demand…and in a line of work where there were and are hundreds if not thousands of other folks who want to do what he did and most of them were highly qualified. In his prime years, a slow week for Gary was, like, three cartoons, ten network promos and his radio show. I know guys who were almost as good as Gary who would be happy with just one cartoon a week.
There was one thing (and I think, only one thing) I didn't like about Gary. We kept having this conversation…
ME: I can't believe how many times I heard your voice on TV in the past week or so…
HIM: Well, yes, I've been very lucky…
ME: It's not luck, Gary. "Lucky" is a job or two here and there. When someone in your profession has ten bookings a week and turns down five more because he doesn't have the time, there's something more than "luck" going on here.
Absolutely. And what was going on was this — which I'll put in italics because it's key to this story: No one ever got in trouble hiring Gary Owens.
No one. He was on time. He was polite. He was patient. If a recording session was running late and you asked Gary to go sit in the waiting room and wait, he would not complain. He would go sit in the waiting room and wait. And then when you did get him in to record whatever you'd hired him to record, he would do as many takes as you said you wanted. He would do it over and over until you were satisfied even when, as was too often the case, you didn't know what the hell you wanted or how to explain what you wanted. And you'd wind up using Take Two.
The only time he wouldn't do all that waiting and all those takes was when to do so would make him late for someone else's recording session. And when that happened, he'd explain the problem so politely and professionally that you couldn't fault him one bit.
And then when you released him, he'd thank you and maybe tell a few jokes on his way out…and when he left, you'd be very much aware that a very nice man had just left and that you enjoyed every second he was in your presence. But more important was that you'd gotten exactly what you needed from him. And your boss would love it…or if by some chance, he didn't, he wouldn't blame you. Because of all the announcers you could have booked, you had the sense to book Gary Owens and no one ever got in trouble hiring Gary Owens. As a writer, I always hope that someone will say that about me.