The laughter on Olympus
Friday, April 07, 2006
The story continues: (the previous part is here)
It was a time of change at 'The Bill'. For many, one of its strengths was that each episode was very much a stand-alone drama. In some ways it was following on from the glory days of Armchair Theatre and Play for Today. By that I mean that each episode was completely the creation of its writer: there were no storylines to follow and the only limitation imposed on the structure of the drama was that a policeman or plicewoman had to appear in every scene. Strange as it may seem, this stricture actually made it easier to fashion a cohesive drama in the 27 minutes or so available. This made it unique among the long-running series on television in the UK.
But, as I said, things were set to change. The management seemed to think that the series needed to import some soap characteristics to maintain its freshness. This meant, in particular, creating story threads running across episodes and even seeing something of the lives of the main characters outside their hours on duty. Lather and suds, in other words. A new executive producer for the series was brought in.
None of this had any impact on me as I began to study the series bible, attended an interrogation training day, and spent time on the night shift with the police at Kingston. The way things worked was that the writers submitted a set of premises of a paragraph long to their assigned script editor, who would then discuss the best of these with the writer and put one or two forward at a weekly producers' meeting. If the meeting felt the premise had legs the writer would be paid to write a four page outline. This would go through a couple of drafts with the script editor and then be offered up at a subsequent producers' meeting. If the outline passed the test then the writer would be asked to write a first draft script and a contract drawn up for that show.
My first premise was rejected, my second accepted but the outline rejected, and my third led to my first contract to write a script for the show. This was not a rapid process. In my first three months at 'The Bill' I earned £250 (for the rejected outline). The contract for the script meant a guaranteed £2,900 (or something around that) but I ended up doing about 7 drafts over two months. This was not going to make me rich fast.
My script - "Smack" - was well received, which made me feel godd and justified Rachel's faith in me and the work she had put in with me on the drafts. I opened a special bank account for my 'Bill' payments and carried my cheque from Thames Television proudly to the counter. The inevitable blow followed soon after. The first blow, that is. (To be continued.....)
It was a time of change at 'The Bill'. For many, one of its strengths was that each episode was very much a stand-alone drama. In some ways it was following on from the glory days of Armchair Theatre and Play for Today. By that I mean that each episode was completely the creation of its writer: there were no storylines to follow and the only limitation imposed on the structure of the drama was that a policeman or plicewoman had to appear in every scene. Strange as it may seem, this stricture actually made it easier to fashion a cohesive drama in the 27 minutes or so available. This made it unique among the long-running series on television in the UK.
But, as I said, things were set to change. The management seemed to think that the series needed to import some soap characteristics to maintain its freshness. This meant, in particular, creating story threads running across episodes and even seeing something of the lives of the main characters outside their hours on duty. Lather and suds, in other words. A new executive producer for the series was brought in.
None of this had any impact on me as I began to study the series bible, attended an interrogation training day, and spent time on the night shift with the police at Kingston. The way things worked was that the writers submitted a set of premises of a paragraph long to their assigned script editor, who would then discuss the best of these with the writer and put one or two forward at a weekly producers' meeting. If the meeting felt the premise had legs the writer would be paid to write a four page outline. This would go through a couple of drafts with the script editor and then be offered up at a subsequent producers' meeting. If the outline passed the test then the writer would be asked to write a first draft script and a contract drawn up for that show.
My first premise was rejected, my second accepted but the outline rejected, and my third led to my first contract to write a script for the show. This was not a rapid process. In my first three months at 'The Bill' I earned £250 (for the rejected outline). The contract for the script meant a guaranteed £2,900 (or something around that) but I ended up doing about 7 drafts over two months. This was not going to make me rich fast.
My script - "Smack" - was well received, which made me feel godd and justified Rachel's faith in me and the work she had put in with me on the drafts. I opened a special bank account for my 'Bill' payments and carried my cheque from Thames Television proudly to the counter. The inevitable blow followed soon after. The first blow, that is. (To be continued.....)
