4 Tips on how to write a TV Pilot, from a working writer

Writing TV can be an exciting, as well as daunting, endeavor. You're not just writing one good script, you're writing the opening act to an entire saga, a story that could run 3-100 episodes, depending on the project. Maybe it's a five series fantasy epic, or a four part family drama about a forgotten murder: whatever it is, it's a big job that can, if you find the right people, pay off big.

As someone who's been at this for several years, with stuff broadcast and in development, I've learnt my share along the way. I've written for kids and adults, worked in ITV Studios and gotten recommendations from some rather hefty players in the business. I don't claim to know all: I'm still learning too, but I hope you can avoid some of my own blunders with this quartet of advice.

1. Build your series treatment/bible first, not your pilot

A television pilot is more akin to the first chapter of a book than a whole novel: it's the introduction, the setup that will give us a taste and template of what's to come. How many times have you ever heard of an author planning and writing just the first chapter of their book? 

A series bible/treatment is basically everything your show has to offer: the cast of characters, the theme and central conflict, the setting, the storylines you will tell, rough ideas for upcoming episodes. People may be wowed with twisty-turny plot, but they won't be back for more if the characters don't click, so spend the time in this document to flesh them out, give them flaws, arcs, secrets. Another important thing to remember: TV casts tend to be big, which means you also need to think about how relationships between the characters and what conflicts they have (that's a keyword, so remember) over the course of the series.

2. Please have subplots, and have them be discernible

Do not fall into the trap of having your pilot be nothing but A Plot, A Plot, A Plot. You need subplots to not only fill the runtime, but also give your cast more to do and see the characters be explored. In a pilot, these subplots will often also help set up longer running storylines and conflicts: secret romances, betrayals, family stories, alternate perspectives, the plans of the antagonist.

If you've done your bible, there's less risk of this not being present. However, this is where outlining will help too: being able to have clearly defined A, B, C and even D plots (sometimes you may even get E and F, depending on the type of show and the length) will enable you to treat them like individual stories, not random scenes that break up the main action for no reason.

3. Everyman/ordinary protagonists should not be dull

The protagonist, hero or dick, is the person we will be following throughout the whole show. Even if they are not a Sherlock-level genius, or a Marvel superhero, they should still be complex and interesting. Even if they still live with their parents and work a crappy till job in a deadend town, they will still be three-dimensional people with hopes, dreams and vices. If they don't care, why should we bother watching them?

Often, an ordinary protagonist is a reflection of the writer, and while there's nothing wrong with that, it's important to step outside your own head: just because you know something and take it as a given with your views and personality, that does not mean it will make sense on the page or be clear to the reader. Even if they are based on someone real, do the work and make them come alive on the page.

4. Be economical with your sets

While budget is less important than a good story and characters in a spec script, remember it's still television. if we are constantly changing locations every single scene, not only will the cost go up, but it means the show has no anchor. People, even the rich and diabolical, still have places to live and hang. Homes, hangouts like clubs or bars; businesses and places of work like shops, offices and schools, even vehicles they often are in like cars, trains and buses.

These places effectively function as precincts, as returnable standing sets that will help get the most out of the budget, and as a place where multiple characters can be expected to interact, thus creating conflict and drama. This is true, even in animation where there isn't a hard limit on sets because no construction costs: characters on those shows still have places they frequent. Ducktales has McDuck Manor and the Money Bin; Octonauts has their ship and underwater base; Simpsons has the house, Moe's Tavern, the Plant, Springfield Elementary, the church, the Retirement Castle, the Aztec Cinema, the list goes on.

I hope these will be of use to you. If you still feel like you need more help, I've also done a list of books I'd recommend about TV writing. Go check it out!

How long does it take to write a script?

An original spec screenplay, be it for film, TV or a short, is going to be a long-cooker. Audio and stage too. It takes time, if you actually want to create something good and interesting to potential collaborators, producers and companies. Time to create engaging, textured characters, time to create a compelling plot, time to craft great dialogue, everything is time.

So why is this seldom discussed in screenwriting discourse? There's endless debates about act structure, scenes, pacing, character construction and the validity/evil of screenwriting gurus, but why not about how long an average script could take to write? After all, many new writers are writing in spare time/when not at work, so that writing time is precious; cut up further if they are reading books, doing classes or researching. There's also windows of opportunity that are time sensitive: contests, schemes, even when shows might potentially be staffing. Having a reference point, an expectation, is useful.

The obvious answer is it varies depending on medium (a ten mins short versus a 60 mins pilot verses a two hour film) but that comes with caveats: a TV pilot may be a shorter script, but not a shorter project. It doesn't exist on its own, you have to have some kind of treatment/bible explaining where the show will go in 3-100 episodes time. A more useful and clear answer is to break down what goes into writing a script: it's not just the drafts, but all the research, brainstorming, outlining (or improvising, if you swing that way) and rewriting that goes into it. Rather than an abstract, let's think about it as a timeframe for a project.

Each of these steps, in my experience as a writer, can vary wildly. They are, however, usually not a few days long: I don't think it's wise, or healthy, to have one month to write an entire, polished screenplay from scratch. That type of pressure leads to stress and rushing, and in the world of specs, sloppiness is your second biggest enemy (first is writing a boring story). When you're not being paid, ultra-strict deadlines are not something you have to live by. They can be useful for discipline but they, by themselves, do not guarantee a better script: Only putting in the hours can.

So, what's my rough measurement (again, just my experience here)? Anything that is pre-script draft (all of the research and prep work, even if you don't use outlines) could easily be, minimum, two months but that could stretch out further, depending on how elaborate and ambitious you're making your script, and what detail you need to create authentic characters and worlds. Let's say three, for safety and maximum bug-ironing. After that, a vomit/rough draft could easily be done in a few days, maybe only three. After that, however, as you polish and rewrite, it will start to take longer. Usually my rewrites take about two-three weeks for big drafts, and then a week for polishes/tweaks. Bear in mind also I'm not just doing one script: I rotate between different spec projects in a day. Plus, you likely won't be writing continuously: you'll want a few days off here and there to let the most recent draft sit and get some fresh eyes on it.

You also have to factor in time for notes, whether you use a service or just put it up on a group. That could be days or weeks before you get feedback, depending on circumstance. Let's say two weeks as an estimate. And if you've gotten some pretty tough notes that require you dig deep, back to the rewrites you go, sometimes back into outlines and treatments.

So from that, what's a reasonable, minimum estimate for how long a script takes to write to a good standard? Well about six months as a barest of bare minimums, but experience has taught me that sudden swerves, and life circumstances, could easily bring that number up to eight, ten or even twelve months. Now, is that so terrible? You may be frustrated or really desperate to see a return on your hard work, but like it or not, patience is a vital skill for a screenwriter. Letting delusions of grandeur drive you is a surefire way to mess up and feel bitter.

And that, in the end, benefits no one.

Dealing with Reversals and Coming Back Better

Today, I got the news that many a writer, regardless of field, dreads: 'we are not continuing further with you'. I will no longer be writing the episode of River City I was commissioned to back in July: I simply wasn't able to capture the right tone for the show. 

Now to be clear, the executive producer was very gracious in his phone call with me, and he did offer an open return in the future, which was nice and I am grateful for. He commended the script that I had used to get on the show in the first place, which was also very nice.

Perhaps you expect me to do a big old sobfest and cry and moan. Say how unfair it is and how I was totally great at it.

No.

Fact of the matter is: I wasn't ready and, maybe because of frustration with how other projects had gone, I was banking too hard on it being 'the one' (the magic ticket I have so often denounced on this blog). Even as I was writing the drafts, I couldn't help but have a sense of unease, like something was missing. I actioned the notes, best as I knew how, but something just kept on niggling me.

Did it hurt when I got the news? Of course it did. 

Was I upset for a while? I mean yes, why wouldn't I be? I don't think it's a bad thing to acknowledge that. We are human beings: we feel and feel deeply. There's no shame in saying that and it's not unprofessional. One thing I pride this blog on is honesty and, as a second, transparency. If something doesn't work or changes, I say. If I don't believe something, I say. I don't run away from mistakes and I take them as learning experiences. In turn, I hope you learn from them.

The reality is, these things happen. Talent is no protection against, sometimes, missing the mark, and it happens to everyone and anyone: Paul Abbott got booted off Doctor Who; Peter Morgan has scripts rejected all the time by big producers; William Goldman has a whole treasure trove of 'almosts' in his filmography. My point is, if this does happen to you, don't let it crush you. You're not a hack or a fake or a 'bad writer': you're learning. The issue is not making mistakes, it's not learning from them, which is what I intend to do. What will I do now: Have a break. Regroup, refresh and then go back into specs.

A big thanks to the team on RC, who were genuinely great, and hopefully, not my last trip to Shieldinch.

I'm writing River City!

It looked like it was going to be a quiet summer after I did my time with Emmerdale... and now I have just gotten commissioned for an episode on BBC Scotland's River City! Created by Stephen Greenhorn (who also wrote some David Tennant Doctor Who episodes that I have nostalgic fondness for!) this long running drama is, to sum up logline style, a Scottish Eastenders: all about the trials and tribulations of a working class neighbourhood in Glasgow. Love, secrets and lies in a half hour - what more could you ask for?

 

As if that wasn't enough, there was no trial or scheme this time - I sent a spec, they liked it, we talked and bam, got the real deal. My first guaranteed broadcast drama credit, and my first broadcast TV episode since Pablo (and not for lack of trying either).

 

 

 

Big, big thanks to Joanne Sneddon and Isabella Barber on the show, for giving me this opportunity, as well as Michelle Goode of Writersofluid, whose notes service helped polish the drama script that got me onto the trial in the first place (indeed, the same that got me Doctors, Emmerdale and my agent. A gift that truly keeps giving). And not forgetting my friends and family either, who've had my back and kept me going. 2022 has truly been a whirlwind year, and knock on a whole forest's worth of wood, this won't be the last of it!

(P.S. The longtime reader may be wondering 'hey, what happened to Doctors?' Well, on top of my commitment to Emmerdale's Original Voices, there have been a few changes in personnel, meaning I got put on the backburner. With luck, it shan't be a lot longer till I have something to talk about there...)

BBC Doctors Writer's Scheme - An Inside Look

The biggest news of 2021, for me, was my successful completion of the Writer's Scheme for BBC One's Doctors. The long running medical drama about the goings on at a Birmingham GP surgery has been running since 2000 on weekdays, delivering five half hours of daytime drama a week. It's also become known as a 'gateway' show for those seeking to get into TV drama: a fast and cheap show with a good amount of freedom to pitch stories on. 

How do you get on it? 

The writer's scheme (or shadow scheme, as it was known in the old, old days), which is what it sounds like: a multi-week bootcamp, teaching you the ropes of the show as you develop a mock episode. You succeed, you get to do one for real. The other BBC soaps/continuing dramas also use this system to find new talent. 

But HOW do you get on that? 

Well, you have to be referred to it. Usually by your agent, but it can done by contacting a producer or script editor on the show directly, pitching one of your drama scripts and sending it in to see if they'll bite. Choose your best script, naturally, but if i had another bit of advice to give: give them something lean, of a modest budget and with a strong heart and sense of community/relationships. A VFX extravaganza with a lot of action won't do you any favours.

What's the actual scheme like?

I'll take you through each step, with a date stamp. In between each one, I had a phone meeting with my script editor, to talk over notes and discuss the best changes. Timeline wise, the official line is six weeks, but due to COVID and other production issues (remember, the script editor is working on real episodes while also doing your trial) this can fluctuate.

12/08/21 - Today, I delivered my first pitches. Doctors is divided into two components - the day story (the B plot, which is what you pitch) and the serial story (the story arc, which the storyliners work out in advance). You as the writer are told to submit several short pitches (about one or two lines) for the day story, an incident for the team at the Mill to deal with. The emphasis is on the character drama, however, not the novelty or rarity of the disease a character has. You're not writing The Strain here. You've basically got a 15 mins short film within the episode, so it has to be tight and emotional.

19/08/21 - Now that the pitch has been selected (one about an autistic boy and his son trying to figure out a path in life now that they are both older), I worked on a treatment. It's a 2 page document that outlines the whole story, with a clear beginning, middle and end. Because it's so short, it's really vital to make the emotional beats really clear - being vague or ambiguous is not good here. You also need to bear in mind that, well, one of your characters is a doctor - there are things medical professionals can and cannot do. Your script editor will point things out, but be sure to do some revision first.

(Quick time savers for you - they cannot hand out pills just like that; they cannot just leave the surgery save for house calls and double check which doctor has which specialties.)

 

31/08/21 - Treatment is approved, so went off and did a scene breakdown (basically a beat sheet of the entire episode, with both plot lines). What's interesting, when I look back at this stage, is appreciating how even 'quaint' or 'low-key' dramas, ones that are more relaxing or simple compared to the big flashy shows, still rely heavily on effective twists and structuring. Yes, Doctors has twists and surprises, because it's a drama. You cannot wing your way through this - 30 mins can be an eternity if done wrong.

14/09/21 - Breakdown got a thumbs up, with some notes. My script editor opted to go to script draft, so after writing, the first draft has now shipped. Getting into the actual script is a new challenge - unlike most TV drama scripts, the continuing dramas/soaps have different formatting. Instead of Final Draft and all the usual rules, Doctors' drafts are done in Word with a different set of guidelines - among the main ones is everything is centered right instead of the middle like FD; action lines are far, far more detailed as, given the show's tight budget, you have to be clear about everything needed in a scene; and you have to provide a cast and location breakdown at the front of the script - how many people, which regulars, non-speaking roles, bios. If it's in your story, you have to mention it here.

28/09/21 - First draft notes received a few days back, now completed rewrites on the second. By and large, my script editor was happy with the progress. The main notes were mostly relating to character voice accuracy (a common pitfall that can be remedied by just binging episodes on iPlayer) and the tone of some scenes. Only one scene needs drastic altering as it wasn't working and felt out of place.

The interesting thing is, while you are given a bible and clear guidelines to follow, once past the first draft you're allowed to be a bit looser with them, if the episode demands it. A character you may have had forced on you in the serial outline (since a Doctors episode is split between two plots, as discussed above) can be taken out. The goal of the first draft is just to see how everything you've created (for the day) and been asked to put in (the serial) work together, and see where the balance is off. It's more flexibility than I had expected, to be honest.

19/10/21 - And after a short phone chat with my script editor, I got the go-ahead to do a real episode! Starting back from square one, of course, but I was amazed at how quickly this came together. In total about two months, so longer than the official length, but not by much. Honestly, I'm still surprised I got greenlit for the real deal on the second draft.

One of the best takeaways from all this has been learning how to turn around something fast while working to a high standard and deadline. While I prize myself as a fairly quick writer, this served as a reminder not to take shortcuts or assume too much with your work. Detail and clarity are king. Where it goes from here, well, I'll just have to wait and see.

Hope that was interesting for you. Any questions, sound off below!

Underlying Health Condition: A New Chapter for Disability in TV

If you've read this blog for any length of time, you'll know I'm not shy about talking about disabled issues in film and TV, as someone on the spectrum. Because of it, I've able to be part of some delightful things that have travelled the world (like the animated series Pablo). Representation is becoming a bigger talking point in this business, and I try to do my own little part to add an informed perspective to the conversation.

On Friday December 3rd, I was invited to the launch of Underlying Health Condition at none other than the Tate in London. What's UHC? a new report and initiative to improve what has been, frankly, the systemic failing of disabled talent in media in the UK for years. While headed up by award-winner Jack Thorne (His Dark Materials, Skins, Enola Holmes), this was an event, and a project, dominated with actual disabled voices. Among some of the speakers and guests included actress Ruth Madeley, Genevieve Barr and Tom Wentworth (both working on the BBC's A Word spinoff, Ralph and Katie). Watch the event for yourself at the following link:

https://vimeo.com/652927043

 

 

Talent in various fields (screenwriting very much included) who, despite hard work and determination, have found themselves shut out of jobs and opportunities they were fully entitled to. Why? Because the industry couldn't be bothered to do the bare minimum. We have money for big star actors and elaborate VFX, but not for ramps or disabled-accessible toilets (know how many there are in UK film and TV? 1000? 100? Not, just one. In the entire country). 

 

They aren't asking for preferential treatment or some other tabloid nonsense about 'PC this, diversity quota that' - they are asking to be able to do their jobs. Because they are adults who want to work and create, not 'problems' or 'nuisances' to be brushed aside. They have the determination, the willpower and the work ethic to succeed, they only need space. If you recall my blog on it, Jack Thorne also discussed this at his powerful MacTaggart lecture - disabled people fighting hard and ending up with credit stolen or being unfairly dismissed from opportunities they were completely entitled to and had proven capable of doing.

Basic attention to detail and accommodation will do so much good - ramps, special kits, co-ordinators and proper toilets are the start. After that, actual sustained job support and training schemes that do lead to paid work and viable careers (for disabled writers, agents can also be a nigh-impossible hurdle to climb. I got lucky with mine, but how many others can say the same?). Merely more workshops or classes will not right a long-running ill, there has to be meaningful remuneration and strategy at play, an actual investment in the talent. Already, Channel 4 has adopted the proposed guidelines, and here's hoping more companies and broadcasters follow suit.

 Pictured: Not a valid reason to ignore someone

Will one initiative solve everything? No, but then UHC isn't a lone wolf - it works with and builds on other disability organizations, like DPTV (Disabled People in TV), 1-IN-4 Coalition, Triple C/DANC (Disabled Artists Networking Community, which if you're not, you should be a member. Lots of support and masterclasses available). Collective effort is how things will change in how disabled creators are perceived and hired.

 

If all of that sounds like soapboxing, then all I ask you people reading to keep an open mind and listen to what disabled artists and crew are saying in the video above. If nothing else, do watch the first ten minutes, which has a short film talking about what disabled people deal with on a regular basis in TV, including some faces you may know from your favourite shows. 

HOW DO I DEAL WITH REJECTION? - Screenwriter's Survival Kit

This is inevitable.
You can do nothing about it.
It will happen.

Every writer, in every field, deals with this at least once (and that's being generous): rejection. The big R all writers fear (whereas Residuals is the R writers like). it's one of the hardest facets of being a working writer that newbies must make peace with.

 
Yes, you will work really hard on a script or other project (but as this is a screenwriting blog, let's mainly focus on that), only for someone to say no. I'll talk more about why shortly, but there's any number of reasons why rejections happen.

WHAT DOES REJECTION FEEL LIKE?

For as much writing as there is about rejection being a reality, I don't think there's much written on what it feels like in the moment; especially if you're new to the whole business. Naturally, I can't claim to represent every screenwriter in this: just my own experiences. However, for what it's worth, here's my take on the stages of rejection grief (mainly when you're a newcomer, though pros certainly feel the sting too), and what to do.

1. Shock - You open the email or envelope and get told the bad news. Usually, it will start with a courteous hello/how are you/hope you're well, and then tell you that they will not accept your screenplay at this time. Sometimes they will cite a reason (not for us/we already have something similar/we like the concept but...), but other times not. The initial shock of being told no will give way immediately to a sort of numbness, like time has slowed and you've divorced from reality. Afterwards, you will feel
2. Upset - Naturally, rejection hurts. You spent all this time, put in all this work, and they said no. This can hurt more if it's from a person or company you really like. You may feel a weight in the pit of your stomach, or even the trickling of tears at the corners of your eyes. Hey, it hurts - you're not a baby for feeling hurt by something that meant something to you. Then comes a burst of
3. Anger - You spent all this time, put in all this work, and they said no - HOW DARE THEY! You want to scream, want to explode with indignity and rage. You were sure you did everything write - proofread it over and over to make sure it worked; the characters were good; the plot was good; the pacing tight; the structure strong; no typos or errors. You were sure! SURE! And yet, it didn't make it. After the fire subsides (time taken can vary a lot), you will reach a state of
4. Acceptance - Having got the fire out of your system, calm sets in and you just say, 'well, that's a shame, but I must move on.' Maybe you go back to your current project, maybe you opt for a break; you just do something because you're a creative and it's what you do.

The main thing to remember with rejection is it's not personal. No one is out to get you, or humiliate you, or destroy your dreams. 

Sometimes, it just doesn't work out. 

BUT WHY NOT?

Maybe you need to get better at writing; maybe they weren't the person for the project; maybe it simply wasn't the right time in the market for the project; maybe you just didn't have the name recognition for it to be worth the gamble. 

BUT HOW DO I DEAL WITH IT?

Well, aside from going back to writing, one easy bit of advice is just give yourself room. Let yourself feel; let yourself have time to digest. If you're not on commission, then the script is being written on your time and thus, you are in total control. Step away for a bit; have a walk, eat something you like, maybe watch a movie or a show. Like after a night's binging, let yourself detox from a rejection. Give it a few days, I'd say.

As time passes, and you get more rejections (which you will), you will find the stages get less potent. The shock, anger and upset will start to fade: never fully gone, but they will not be as harsh on you. 

DO I NEED TO REWRITE MY SCRIPT?

I'd say, if you sent it out to multiple people, wait. If they all come back rejecting it, it's worth having another look over. As the saying goes 'If one person says it's crap, it's an opinion. If ten people say it's crap, you've got a problem'. However, never try to rewrite something right after getting a rejection - it's too raw for you yet to be truly objective.

WILL I GET USED TO REJECTION?

Like anything in life, the more you do it, the more used to it you become. The hurt and annoyance will never fully vanish, because you are an artist and you are, always, exposing yourself in creating your art. However, experience brings maturity and with that maturity, coping mechanisms. You may think you won't, but you will.

BUT IF I CAN'T?

You will - that's just the immediate shock talking. Nor should you worry about 'lost chances': barring you being rude to the other person, new opportunities can and will emerge in time. Maybe this script wasn't for them, but another could be. 

And if not? There's always someone else out there.

Always keep pushing, and you will get where you want to be in the end.

The Value of Diversity and Why TV isn't a Meritocracy - A Response to Tabasam Begum

Increasing diversity in media has become more and more of a hot topic in recent years. As the demographics of the population shift and change, what we see in print and on our screens should, in some way, reflect that. People of all walks of life want to tell stories or just have fun and make their dream project. One of the immediate solutions to tapping this new talent vein was for the industry to put up schemes targeting said groups, providing training and resources. All well and good, or so it seems.

Film critic Tabasam Begum wrote about being on one of these. In the piece, Begum recounts her experiences on an (unnamed) major soap's diversity scheme and how condescending her treatment was by the staff, highlighting how her race was viewed as trivial or a nuisance and-

STOP! 
STOP, STOP, STOP! 

You, YES YOU! YOU, reading this and reaching for the keyboard, about to type in the comments of here or Facebook, or somewhere else, a version of 'meritocracy', 'I don't see race', 'best writer for the job' or the myriad of other miss-the-point-lines - sit down and wait. Or better, actually read first, then try and offer an opinion (something that has proven rather hard in the digital age we live in).

Anyway, Begum's piece follows on, not long after The Guardian ran another piece, where TV director Christiana Ebohon-Green (Grantchester, Holby) and actress Wunmi Mosaku (Lovecraft Country, Luther). recount the barriers they've faced in their careers: the lack of similar peers and how isolating it can feel, and how systemic racism has left them both stuck at particular levels that only recently started to shift. And well, if that's too subjective and 'appealing-to-emotion' for you, here's some hard data from London School of Economics, but let's bring it back a bit and ask: how did it come to this? Surely, the industry gets on top of problems and only chooses the best, right?

I've spoken before about the need for much, much stronger pipelines in this business so as to stop screenwriting being treated as the lottery: if someone can write well, they should get a turn at the wheel and background shouldn't be holding them back because of the homogeneity of the industry. Systemic racism, a word I'm sure many have become more familiar with in recent months, isn't always about active or deliberate malice: I and I don't think Begum or Green are saying that there's some hidden KKK cell at  one of the big four.

Rather, this tends to happen when you surround yourself with one type of person for so long: you end up only going to that type and thus, you're not incentivized to go out of the comfort zone and find different talent. We as humans can be an incredibly complacent lot and not feel the need to go outside our comfort zones - and somehow this is meant to be a 'meritocracy'? A word misused by online commenters who don't work in the industry and have no idea how people get gigs? 'Meritocracy' is a nice abstract ideal, but if that was the case, why is this a business so dependent on referrals and networking i.e. the opposite of being chosen solely on 'merit' if you already have prior relationships?


And this doesn't apply solely to race - disability enters the equation too (and here's where I come in). Pablo gave me my break - there, the mission statement was letting creators on the autistic spectrum tell their stories. They put time and effort to either train or simply enhance our writing ability. One of the big joys was being at the premiere for Series 2 (now on iPlayer, plug plug) and seeing all the autistic kids there, who did little voice roles in the cartoons. They did something no one would expect of them and got to just be themselves. It was wonderful.

But then, it comes with a flip side: if we hadn't given them the chance to show they could do it, who else would've? Would any other show hire them, or just brush them aside in favour of a 'less demanding' child? Would I, as a then-green writer with several years worth of non-starters behind me, have gotten the same shot to tell my story? And if you think I'm being hyperbolic, superstar writer Jack Thorne (His Dark Materials, The Aeronauts, This is England) has spoken of his battles in trying to get disabled performers parts in his shows, only to be told no for no justifiable reason. If he's struggling, what does that say about how parts of the industry currently engage with the topic?

And if you still want to cling to the idiocy of 'b-b-but meritocracy', how can you create a truly equal, merit driven system where race and gender and everything else are irrelevant IF PEOPLE CAN'T GET THE EXPERIENCE TO HAVE MERIT BECAUSE YOU DISMISSED THEM OUT OF HAND OR IGNORED THEM? Nobody is saying 'hire a random black guy' - the people talking about lack of opportunities have worked hard, have the skill and talent, and yet still don't crack it and are given some rather uncomfortable reasons why. Yes, not everyone will get a job, such is the arts and real life - but after a while, even the most skeptical has to notice something's rotten in Denmark.

Is there a clean, one-size-fits-all answer to this? No - obviously this is a great task, and requires changing decades worth of practice to achieve. These schemes and initiatives are a step in the right direction, but clearly need more fine tuning: They need consultations and boning, as well as, in my opinion, a great expansion of winning places and something for runner-ups. As said, the sooner we start treating screenwriting as a proper job, rather than mere artistic whimsy, the sooner serious solutions can be made for everyone, especially those with the deck stacked against them. The search for diverse talent, should be treated as a long-term investment in the talent, not a short term pat-on-the-back - these are communities with stories worth telling, not people randomly demanding preferential treatment.

Need proof of the good of embracing diverse creators? Try these: Black Panther, Creed, Empire, Murdered by My Father, She-Ra: The Princesses of Power, Citizen Khan, Get Out, Us, Dear White People, Black-ish, Sense-8, Pose, The Farewell, Moonlight, The Owl House, Gentleman Jack, I May Destroy You and so many more. More great stories come when we see talent and background/heritage as complimentary to their creation, not contradictory.

What next for UK Film & TV? - A Response to Ewan Morrison and John McVay

Crystal balls are not much help right now, as everything is in flux and could go any which way. June looks like a make-or-break month: thus far, VE Day and other bank holidays haven't lead to an explosion in cases, but will that hold true as kids go back to school and shops reopen?

On the Film & TV side, it's also very touch and go: Soaps are developing strategies to shoot and keep elderly actors off as much as possible, with Emmerdale resuming operations last month, Coronation Street next week and Eastenders aiming to do so by June's end. What's more, Warner Bros., Disney and Netflix are working with the Tory government to restart in the next month or so, with safety measures, on major productions like The Little Mermaid and Matt Reeves' The Batman. Ideas being put forward include skeleton crews for filming; actors doing self-makeup; floor markings; minimizing stunts; prioritizing outdoor shooting and favouring local crews.

But that's now - what about new productions? What kind of shows could be made? Well, the BBC ran a piece, interviewing several high-profile industry folk on that question. Among them were screenwriter Ewan Morrison (The Outlaw King) and PACT boss John McVay, who voiced thoughts and concerns. The main ones being settings for shows, as well as scale and logistics.

Both raise valid and important points: the bigger the project, the more headaches it will be to keep everyone safe. The reduction in spectacle, too, could lead to some more creative filmmaking and storytelling that isn't reliant on eye-candy to woo audiences - indeed, such a cost cut from budgets could lead to some leveling of opportunities for lower-tier writers to staff on more prestigious shows, now that you don't have to fret so much over money. Morrison's remark about seeing more shows in both smaller yet more fantastical locales like space or underwater could lead to a resurgence in domestic genre programming, which is great for nerds like me who want more homegrown sci-fi and fantasy (and even work on them...).

From my end, I think the idea that we could be entering an era of more conservatively budgeted shows that could, as a by-product, take more risks (in slight difference to Morrison's view) is a huge-plus for new talent, an issue that both Film and TV have, admittedly, not done a great job of engaging with. Apprenticeships and prizes are all well and good, but newcomers need solid, professional credits to get anywhere. That said, this is still a short-term solution: like it or not, you can only reskin a confined show so many times before people will want to see dragons and armies again. A healthy industry, regardless of circumstance, is one that produces a variety of content - too much in either high or low is bad for creatively, careers and culture. Expensive shows limit who can work on them, but cheap ones will only be able to take on so many people. In addition, depending on the show, certain people may get left out altogether: make-up artists, special effects artists, set designers, costumers, stunt people etc.

Like it or not, McVay must know that eventually, big shows will have to start up again. You're dealing with months, if not years, of contracts, deals and other paperwork behind these big-timers, and far too many types of professionals who need the work. You obviously don't want sets to become outbreak points, but this, like so much else in the Covid pandemic, is the result of various societal problems crashing into each other. I think this present anxiety is based on an idea of Covid remaining exactly as it is right now, which no version of the science, optimistic or pessimistic, supports. As discussed before, our understanding of Covid has rapidly changed, and relatively fast. Even if we don't get a vaccine by year's end, we will likely have measures, and probably treatments, in place to file off the worst parts (ala HIV).

As for Morrison's 'resurgence of big-budget animation' prediction, I'm going to have to err on no from a drama POV (though Morrison doesn't specify what age-group he's indicating: does he mean a four-quadrant British Pixar, or a return to the more experimental days of Watership Down and The Plague Dogs?) Anyone involved in animation fandom has seen this crop up many times over the years - the odds of the BBC or ITV making what amounts to British Anime (animation meant for a prime-time audience that isn't strictly comedy, to pick up the current need for drama shows) is pretty much a non-starter. Amazon and Netflix might (and have) in small doses, but by the time you could get a dramatic show animated, the live-action industry will likely have found workarounds on how to shoot, thus rendering it moot in most cases.

Plus, working from home doesn't mean the process'll go any faster in creating regular cartoons and adult animated series - material still has to be vetted, altered and given notes, in addition to all the pre-planning like designing, storyboards and animatics.

In so far as Morrison's worries over Covid being an excuse for producers to double down on adaptations - on the one hand, that's a real risk. In times of trouble, people stick with what's familiar. People who already bemoan our TV being dominated with novel adaptations have every right to feel frustrated, and that IP value is only going to increase as companies need to carefully marshal resources and pick the best project to get a return on.

At the same time, however, I do think we must be careful not to adopt a dismissive attitude (especially not after Morrison advocated a progressive stance with genre content earlier in the piece) - in times where money will be tight and people, including and especially children's, access to the arts is going to be impacted, Film and TV could pick up the slack and introduce classic works to new generations. How many of our favourite books, sometimes the very things that inspired into creative careers, came out of us watching the movie or TV version first? And, frankly, shouldn't creating quality productions matter more than where they came from?

Something which the article doesn't touch on much, but anyone active on Twitter and the like has seen, is the indie debate. There, the question is could this be a new golden age for independent films and content that can be made with few resources and people? Some seem very confident in it, and I see the rationale, but there's a flip side: these projects may be more open and able to social distance, but the lack of money also means less PPE and safety measures can be put in place. how many actors and filmmakers are going to gamble on a project which pays little-to-nothing, just for exposure? (if anything, the golden age could be for audio productions.)

It will be tough - you're effectively rewriting decades worth of habits and practices in a matter of weeks. For newcomers, it's a scary time and it seems like it could all vanish at the drop of a hat. For veterans and even for those of us who have climbed up the first couple of rungs, like myself, it's all on the razor's edge, and only by being wily and careful, can we navigate this.

But, as McVay himself points out, this could be an era of innovation, where cream rises to the top and we find ways to overcome adversity. This could, too, see a meaningful increase in diversity behind and in front of the camera as new opportunities and methods arise. Some doors close, but others could yet open.

Diary of a Spec Script Day 39-44 (24th-29th Feb)

Alright, so I had a little hiatus, but it was for good reason. As you'll recall from last time, 'Project A' fell apart on a narrative level and needed a rethink. I went away, did some brainstorming and tinkering, and found a way forward. I decided to change up the family dynamic and background, playing up the working-class dimension and having it be less of a fragmented family story. Before, the idea was to use the fantastical adventures as a way for divides to heal, but the two sides didn't merge. Instead, I decided, let's just make it a team show, and it felt more natural.

In moments like this, it's important to 'listen' to your characters - if something just feels wrong, don't go there. That's your characters saying 'I don't belong there. It's not how I tick'. Forcing your characters to be something that they're not is a surefire way to waste your time and write a script that reads as hollow and disjointed. You want to put your characters in peril and make them do things they don't want to, that's drama, but having them act in ways that are completely counterintuitive is not.

With that, I quickly cracked out a short treatment that contained most of the beats I wanted. Subplots were a little thin, but hey, now at least I had clear indications of what was available and where they could go. The characters also didn't get in the way of the adventure and felt like everything worked as one cohesive unit.

That said, another issue rose - time. I had other writing projects that were more pressing, from a career perspective, and couldn't spare a whole lot more time at this juncture to experiment with this one. At least, for now. So here is where I had three roads to go down: Pull, Push or Pass.

• Pull - Continue the present strategy - keep devoting time and energy to it and just find a way to compromise with the other stuff.
• Push - Get it written in the time left. A vomit draft that will get down just the absolute basics and save basically any and all fine tuning till another time.
• Pass - Just junk the project. It's too much hassle and it took so long to even be functional, so why bother?

I opted for push and cracked down on getting it written within the week. It was tight, but I found it liberating and, along the way, made notes for ideas I could add or that arose, for next time. This draft is very much as basic as it could get, clocking at the bare minimum for something that's meant to be a four-act, hour-long piece. In first drafts, as a rule, getting done is what counts - you don't need to worry a whole lot about spelling or tweaking and rejigging scenes. That comes later - just get it down.

Naturally, while there is always relief that hey, it got done, I did feel a bit of disappointment - a big thing I had stressed throughout this was a renewed emphasis on really pounding out and breaking the back of the treatment and the outline. This was going to be a new and different way for me to write scripts, where more time is spent prepping the treatment/broad strokes of the story - however, in the end, it kind of went back to my usual method. Best laid plans, as they say.

So, what happens now? Well, I'll be turning my gaze towards other projects, includign Never The Bride. However, 'Project A' will be returning before too long, I guarantee, loyal reader. I hope what this phase of the script's development has demonstrated is just how mercurial and temperamental the process can be. If you ever run into situations like, I hope I've demonstrated its normalcy and taken off some of the stress and pressure. You didn't irreversibly f*ck up - it's all part of the journey.

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Got my first development credit - Never the Bride

Well, this one's been kept under wraps for a while (forgive the pun). Well, I can now reveal to the world, and random internet stragglers, that I'm adapting the cult-horror-fantasy novel Never the Bride by acclaimed SF author Paul Magrs for Free@Last TV (the minds behind Sky One's Agatha Raisin, as well as a cornucopia of cool things cooking away right now) into a television series. 

It's a delightfully mad series about the life-after-life of the Bride of Frankenstein (yes, that one), Brenda, living as the retired owner of a simple BnB, down in Whitby Bay. Wouldn't you know it, she's also next door to what are, basically, the gates of Hell (or, even more tastefully dubbed, the Bitch's Maw). Welp, there goes the neighbourhood... Now it's up to her and her white witch friend and perpetual tutter of all that walks, Effie, to combat supernatural threats to the sleepy town.

It's been an honour to be working on Bride, having been a fan of Paul's work for many years (his Iris Wildthyme plays for Big Finish are so utterly bonkers and charming, as are his many contributions to Doctor Who), as well as just being a big lover of old school British genre and pulp fiction. Naturally, I can't say a whole lot at this stage about the project or what we're doing with it, but sufficied to say, we really want to capture the off-kilter spirit of the books and present our main duo to a whole new audience to fall in love with.

Now, I have to give out some big thanks to head honchos David and Barry at Free@Last for reading my specs and saying, 'yep, this fella'. They took a big leap of faith on me, as a relatively new writer, and for that I am truly and deeply grateful. My only desire is to make the best show I can and expose more people to Paul's brilliance.

When more news arises, you'll be the first to know, so hang tight and sip some hot cocoa or fry up some whitebait... 

Pablo Series 2: The Launch Event and Belfast Adventures

I was fortunate enough to be able to go to the launch for the second series of Pablo (now broadcasting on CBeebies and RTEjr). Our wonderful producer and brains behind Pablo, Grainne McGuiness, flew over the writing team for the launch of Series 2 on Oct 1. What follows is an account of that experience and, possibly, one of the most humbling days of my life.

I flew out on Sunday from Heathrow Terminal 2: long story short, it became complicated and the flight was delayed from around eleven to nearly nine at night. Officially it was due to bad weather, though a different source claims it was kamikaze birds. Still,  I met up with two other members of the amazing team, Paul Isaacs and Sumita Majumdar and chatted over Pepsi and peppermint tea, so not all bad.

Monday is where things really got started: we conveyed for a day-long writer's room to talk shop about the future of the franchise in multiple areas. Sat in a fancy conference room up at the Clayton Hotel, we did a dry-run for Tuesday's panel, before jumping in on pitching stories for the (potential) third series. Pablo was aging, so we had to take that into consideration. Following a sandwich-based lunch, we then brainstormed plot for a stage musical based on the series, doing it in partnership with Selladoor Worldwide/Productions, debuting hopefully next Christmas for a nationwide tour.

The atmosphere was electric, and everyone was on top form. We joked, spitballed and pondered a number of topics - school, sports, the myriad manifestations of autism, Dead Ringers sketches, old Gerry Anderson shows. Alas, I cannot discuss more details of either project at the moment, but sufficed to say, I was really proud of what we came up with.

Then, we had a few hours free in the evening, I pottered around Belfast City centre, did a bit of sightseeing in the rain and bought Kraven's Last Hunt, an iconic Spider-Man story from the 80s, for a cheaper price then I'd find online or here in London. Not that this is a vital part of the trip, but when else am I going to bring that up in conversation?

Onto Tuesday, the day of the panel and premiere. Dressed up and checked out from the Clayton, we were all taxied down to Queen's University Belfast for the event. The room was set up with a number of tables: the event was organized as a lunch, with a buffet stand nearby. Many of the invited were child actors on the show and their families, in addition to press and television people. Just seeing these kids there, how their lives had been changed by both watching the show and then acting in it... it was one of the most amazing moments of my life. There and then, I felt like, in my own small way, I had helped give these children something that they'd never access otherwise.

As for the panel, the writers would get on stage, have clips from their episodes play, and then discuss the genesis of said episodes. Being me, I opened with some quick jokes before diving into mine: seeing a clip of Oink Cluck Neigh getting a big laugh was just delightfully reaffirming. Afterwards, we adjourned for steak pie and then watched the first episode of Series 2, The New Sofa by Michael White. A funny and sweet romp, it could not have closed the event off better.

What a time. Sure, it was bookended by delayed flights (thankfully shorter on the return), but being in that room with all those families.... what an honour. Here's hoping Series 2 is everything fans love, want and more. Hopefully, it won't be long before I return...

Chernobyl, Craig Mazin and the deceptiveness of credits

So, while the ending of Game of Thrones caused a ruckus, HBO quickly bounced back with one of the most acclaimed TV series in recent memory, Chernobyl. This period drama, a co-pro with Sister Pictures, examines the real-life Russian nuclear disaster and cover-up that resulted in many deaths, and a lot more trauma.

The mind behind this is veteran screenwriter (and Sexy ScriptNotes host) Craig Mazin, an industry pro whose films have grossed millions of dollars at the box office, and created a reputation of being able to bring troubled productions home and to said monetary glory. Alright, so for the unaware, you'd think this means 'Oh, well if he wrote Chernobyl, he must work with the likes of Nolan and Scorsese. He probably has a few Oscar wins to his name.'

Nope, he's the guy who wrote Scary Movie 3, Identity Thief and the Hangover sequels.

Yeah...

As the title says, credits are a deceptive little minx. It's easy to look at Mazin's credits and go 'HACK!', 'SELLOUT!', 'FAILING UPWARDS!' and more. How on earth did he pull out Chernobyl when his past career heights were sex and fart gags? Oh, and a sequel to Snow White and The Huntsman, for some reason. Surely, if those are 'his creations', then there's no way he could've also written something of Chernobyl's quality.

See this? Let's discuss.


Well, put big airquotes aroung 'his creations': much of the work in Hollywood is assignments i.e. what the studio hands out. Adaptations of books, remakes of studio I.Ps, script rewrites (Mazin loathes the term Script Doctor) etc. Stories of Hollywood rewrites are just as mythic as the films themselves: eleventh-hour fixes or scripts drowned under endless notes, despite the best efforts of the likes of William Goldman, Robert Towne, Nora Ephron, Joss Whedon, Quentin Tarantino and many more. In short, just because a project says one name, does not guarantee that said project is on the shoulders of that one person. Film and TV, like in any collaborative project, get revised all the time.

The way that the Writers Guild of America works, credits are often arbitrated and alloted, based on percentages of material contributed. You don't meet the quota, you don't get credit (see Frank Darabont and David S. Goyer on Godzilla, or Paul Dini on Maleficent). If you'd like to learn more about this, as it can be a headscratcher, I suggest you read Writing Movies for Fun and Profit: How We Made a Billion Dollars at The Box Office and You Can Too! by Ben Garant and Thomas Lennon. It's an addictive read that'll leave you chuckling yet also be rather pensive about the Hollywood machine. Love or hate their films, this duo (who have shared projects with Mazin, like Baywatch) have been at the epicentre of some of the big comedies of the last decade (Herbie, Night at the Museum), so they know their stuff.

For how Britain works, here's our own Guild.

But, what's just as important here, is what this body of work says about Mazin: he's a lean, mean writing machine. Regardless of critical reception, you don't last as long as Mazin has if you aren't able to deliver the goods on time, solve problems, and said goods turn out greater returns. If you are that good on assignment jobs... what then could your own original work be like? What level of trust have you built, through these jobs, to convince people to take a chance on your original idea?

In short, what's your reputation? A go-getter, a dedicated craftsman, or a stubborn, difficult pain?

It's as true of the UK as it is of the USA. It's easy, especially for newer screenwriters, to look at the industry too much like a fan, and not as a professional with perspective. It's tempting to whine about how terrible you think these films are, and thus can't make the jump from Hangover 3 to Chernobyl as the work of the same man. However, here's some other examples to bear in mind:

• Justin Marks - Wrote Legend of Chun-Li. Also wrote Counterpart and The Jungle Book.
• David S. Goyer - Wrote Blade Trinity and Man of Steel. Also wrote Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, Blade 2 and Dark City. 
• Julian Fellowes - Wrote The Tourist. Also wrote Downton Abbey.
• Roberto Orci & Alex Kurtzmann - Wrote Transformers 1 & 2, as well as Legend of Zorro and The Island. Also wrote People Like Us, Xena, Fringe, Alias and Sleepy Hollow S1.

All of this is to say: no experience or work is wasted. Everything can be a learning opportunity, if you choose to use it: clearly Mazin did, and now look what he pulled off. What's more, never take things at face value: writers are always writing, commissioned or on spec. Much of what you write will never see the light of day, it's just a sad fact. How different would the perception of Mazin's work be if his more dramatic projects got made, or he got credited for more serious assignments?

However, wherever you end up, you never stop pushing or challenging yourself, and you use that to broaden and improve your own portfolio. Even if the end product isn't great, to get on it in the first place requires one to have a certain, often high, level of skill. That can sometimes be as good of an endorsement as great work by critical standards.

Sometimes, a creator's body of work can say more than the surface allows. What Identity Thief and other of Mazin's work may lack as great or unique cinema, it makes up for as a reminder of having a good work ethic and initiative. Chernobyl then, on top of being a great show, is also proof of the potential rewards of said dedication.

Dear Students of Screenwriting: Here's the reality

You're about to start or finish off your degree. You will or have learnt about three acts, inciting incidents, reversal of reversals and subverting expectations. With that piece of paper in hand (or in the mail) you feel ready to conquer the industry with a knock-out game changer. Or maybe, you're outside the system and learning as you go, from books and Youtube videos.

Let me tell you, you haven't even been around the first step to the first hurdle.

I think the reality and demands of any writing career is often undersold and underdiscussed to aspiring newbies. Too much is made of the glitz and glamour, the prestige of an award winning film or best selling book. Often, this false-image presents a too-romanticized, too-innocent version of what the reality is like for writers (mainly focusing, in this instance, on screenwriters, but there's a lot here that's cross-transferable).

The BIG truth is this: everything is SLOW. Everything takes time and everything is about your initiative and proactivity. This is not a career for those who are lazy or just expect, for whatever moronic reason, things to come to them. Worse, things to come RIGHT AWAY. Like, everything get's going in one week and people will sign you overnight to some big honking deal at the BBC or Netflix.

No. No no no no. No. Not how it happens. (WARNING, the word MAY will be used many times in the following paragraphs.)

First, you must BUILD RELATIONSHIPS. If you treat people like stepping stones, show no respect or regard, well, why should they care about you or your scripts? Networking is treated as this grand, impossible, delicate thing, but it's really not. It's basically like any other sort of socializing: just be cool and open. Yes, YOU have to go and meet people. Yes, YOU have to actually talk to people before they can read your script and may, MAY, give you a gig.

Asking to have a five minute meeting with someone in development about career advice, as a graduating/graduate student, or even as a fan of their output, is much less daunting then it sounds. You'd be surprised how generous people can be with their time, as well as how useful being a student is: you're still in school, so you can't sell them anything. You're just a wide-eyed kid with big dreams. They can relate, and if they like you, they may even offer you a read of your script. If they like it, they may give you a referral (an endorsement) which makes a certain 'hunt' that much easier (more on that later).

Research who they are beforehand, so that when you introduce yourself, you can point to something they've made and can say you admire. Nobody can resist a compliment, and thus, that may snowball into a chat, a conversation and, possibly, an exchange of numbers and/or emails. Of course, all this is if they respond: you may have to chase up a few times before they reply. Like I said, slow.

It's also important to be reasonable with your expectations: forget Call the Midwife or Doctor Who or Bodyguard. They are way, WAY out of your league, no matter how good your writing is. Shows like those use writers familiar with the system and who have proven themselves to be able to meet deadlines and turn solid material around in small amounts of time. Guiding a newbie is just not viable. However, that's not the only place to go with your work.

Loads of small theatres and festivals offer opportunities and competitions for material, some may even doing full plays. BBC Writersroom and London Playwrights' Blog are great sources for who has an open slot. That's a credit. Radio and narrative-driven podcasts: The audience is smaller than film or TV, but the advantadge is lower costs, allowing more risks to be taken. Yes, you can just pitch straight to a producer on radio, and may get your work on BBC Radio 4, without any 'unsolicited' guff. That's a credit. Or make a cheap little webseries (superior to shorts, in my view, for writers, and less dicey than a microbudget feature). Credit, credit, credit.

Or on actual TV, preschool's a good place to start grafting: efficient, cheap, fun content and writers who can produce that are always in demand. There'll still be waiting and following up and rejections, but there's far less at stake here for them and you. It's a fraction of what you'd get for a drama, but it's a credit builder with established companies. Remember, you're the newbie, the baby: you can't afford to be snobbish. Kids shows are not beneath you or inferior. They are as dramatically valid and challenging as any 'adult' project.

And even when you get that first play or episode done... WELCOME BACK TO GRAFTING! Oh, there's no magical floodgate where everything will just come to you and you'll never have to network again. People won't come to you. You've still got to find more gigs by your lonesome. And you will get more rejections. Huzzah!

Now, to round this off, what's a word often associated with writers that has not shown up yet? AGENTS.  Here's the honest truth:

You don't need an agent to walk up to a producer or development person and pitch your idea.

You don't need an agent to get you work.

A good logline and better manners will do that fine. Your first priority as a writer, aside from learning and pushing your craft, is build yourself a portfolio, not agent hunt. Show you can do the work, show people want to work with you and show that you have the determination and proactivity to be worth entering a business arrangement with. Credits, specs, stuff in development, awards, all of this stuff counts for a lot and can help you stand out in the pile, bolstered further by the referal from an industry producer.

I suppose the takeaway here is that it's hard. Really hard. Really, really hard. And slow. And tedious. And often times annoying. But I also know I'd rather do this than a soul-draining office job (and I have), and I know this is what I find joy and passion in. Pablo, Cull, my past short films and all the stuff yet to come or still cooking: I've fought battles, felt crushing worry and despair, but I held on. It will happen to you, and it's not easy and it's scary. But if you believe in your material, in yourself, if you keep fighting and taking risks, you will get there.

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If you're curious for me to expand on the above, I did an entire series about helping students which you can find here.

Abel Diaz - Complete Credits

Just a little record I keep of what I've done, on top of my IMDB page (and will still keep even after that, as its reliability is notoriously unwieldy at the best of times). Stuff both on-screen and off, for your perusal.

AGENT: Andy Townsend, Long Road Talent. (Contact here.)

Film/TV Credits:

PRODUCED/PLACEMENTS/AWARDS

• 2022: ITV Original Voices 2021 (Opportunity for BAME/Disabled writers to train on ITV Continuing Drama Emmerdale).
• 2021: Doctors (TV, BBC One). Daytime drama. Completed Writer's scheme.
  
• 2020 - BBC New Voices Scheme (Development opportunity with CBBC/Cbeebies)
  

• 2020: Pablo (TV, 2x11mins, CBeebies/Paper Owl Films). Pre-school, animation. A 6 yr. old boy with autism explores the world in his own unique way. 

- Participated in writer's room for Series 3 (TBA). 
- #2.38/83 Oink Cluck Neigh: Pablo doesn’t want to leave the city farm, so he decides to become an animal and live there! 
- #2.36/81 Headache Volcano: Pablo has a funny feeling in his head when he plays on a hot afternoon, and it won't go away.

• Finalist - ITV Original Voices Scheme 2019 (Opportunity for BAME/Disabled writers to train and write for ITV Continuing Drama Coronation Street).

• 2018: Wrapped Up (short film, 15 mins.) Dark comedy. A lovestruck finds herself in deep when she kills her boyfriend, who was sleeping with her brother.

       - Winner - Best Student Film: Kiev International Film Festival 2019.

• 2017: Creative Access: Bobette’s Story (Promo, 2 mins.) A recruitment video for Creative Access (a service that enables B.A.M.E youth into internships in media industries), centring on one of their success stories, theatre manager Bobette.
• 2015: Silver (short film, 10 mins. Dir. Zay Basile. Script editor, credited under ‘Special Thanks’). A tale of love between two living statues in the heart of London.
• 2015: Spiderfly (short film, 5 mins.) Romantic thriller. Two lawyers, following the closure of a murder case, embark on a ‘killer’ affair of their own.

DEVELOPMENT

• Never The Bride (TV, 6x60mins, Free@LastTV). Horror-fantasy-drama, based on the books by Paul Magrs (Doctor Who). The life-after-life of Brenda, the Bride of Frankenstein, moonlighting as a supernatural-busting gumshoe in the coastal town of Whitby.

Film (Crew):

• 2020: The Reason I Jump (Feature film. Dir. Jerry Rothwell. Transcription assistant). A documentary about autism, based on the best selling book by Naoki Higashida.
• 2019: Love Sarah (Feature film. Dir. Eliza Schroeder. Floor Runner). A young woman who enlists the help of her mother’s best friend and her eccentric estranged grandmother to fulfill her late mother’s dream of opening a bakery in Notting Hill. Stars Celia Imrie (The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel) and Rupert Penry-Jones (The Strain).
• 2014: Shattered Reflection (short film, 10 mins. Dir. Katarina Leskoova. Producer). A young woman battles with bulimia, embarrassed to tell her friends.

Non Film/TV work:

• 2023: I Am, You Are: Let's Talk About Disability, Individuality and Empowerment (disability consultant, non-fiction book. Ladybird/Penguin)
  
• Pablo The Official Guide (contributing writer, non-fiction book. Paper Owl Films/Penguin) - TBA
  
• Pablo The Stage Musical (co-writer of book, Selladoor Worldwide/Paper Owl Films) - Southbank Centre, TBA.
• 2016: Iron Joe (published short story for Doctor Who charity anthology Time Shadows). The Sixth Doctor and Peri travel aboard the newly inaugurated Transcontinental Railroad, only to come face to face with the ultimate terror of the West: a bandit made of metal known only as ‘Iron Joe’.

Articles/Other Writings:

• 2021, Bang2Write - 18 Experts Share Their Submissions Pet Peeves
  
• 2019, Bang2Write - 22 Industry Pros Share Their Advice on What They Don't Want
  
• 2019, Bang2Write - What 22 Industry Pros DO Want From Your Writing