Fans4writers.com, a website where fans show support for striking Hollywood writers, has made plans to use the occasion of the Tournament Of Roses Parade on New Year's Day to have five planes "skytype" in support of the writers. In addition, a street team of fans will hand out flyers at the parade. To fund the effort, a silent auction and fundraising event is being held featuring some items donated by WGA members including scripts from the TV series Battlestar Galactica.

The plan is to have five separate "sky signs" bearing pro-WGA messages 10,000 feet above the Rose Parade beginning at 9 AM Pacific Time -- each five miles long, and every letter the size of the Empire State Building. In essence, it's skywriting but done like LED signs which can be seen for 15 miles in any direction or nearly 400 square miles. The content of these ads will be kept secret until they are revealed at the event.

Given that the parade will be broadcast on ABC, NBC, Univision, HGTV, Travel Channel, Discovery HD as well as KWHY and KTLA in the Los Angeles area, as well as more than 150 international territories, millions of people could see the messages. But it's a big "if" whether the commentators and cameras for all these Big Media outlets, some of whom belong to the AMPTP which recently walked away from contract talks with the WGA, look up in the sky or even make reference to the messages. Still, it's going to be hard to ignore the spectators craning necks to watch five airplanes "typing" up to 30 character messages by emitting biodegradable vapor "puffs" in a dot matrix pattern computerized to form the letters in the sky. Then again, stranger things have happened.

Previously, the fans have organized such events as sending pencils to Big Media CEOs. (See my previous, Pencils Down, More Pencils In The Mail... and Universal Calls Cops On Pencil Pushers.) So why are the fans going to this much trouble and expense in this new effort? "First of all, it is to express support for the writers, and the strike. It's also that there will be a million people on the ground, and this is a way to reach them directly. People that may not know about ways to support the writer's strike," the website ... Read More »

Needless to say, the following is a parody of the "Why We Write" campaign. This spoof was created by WGA members Lissa Kapstrom & Will Schifrin:
"Why We Don’t Write": The AMPTP
(because,“Hey, we got stuff to say too”)
"I had a typical childhood, growing up in a modest, six thousand square foot house in Connecticut. My father was a hard working investment banker who liked to unwind by sleeping with my nannies, and my mother had a special talent for hiding her Librium addiction. Every night, after our icy silent dinners, I would retire to the great room to watch TV – classic shows like MASH, Cheers, Taxi and St. Elsewhere. I laughed, cried and was moved by the incredible story telling, and I knew that when I grew up I had to be a part of the magic that is the entertainment industry. Not as a writer – because who wants to be some pasty nerd who gets no respect, toils endlessly without fair compensation and doesn’t get laid?  Hell no. I would become a member of the AMPTP. I make my own hours, drive a Ferrari and am dating a Czech supermodel. So, to paraphrase that writer guy Jimmy Brooks, ‘If you want your life to exceed your dreams, don’t write.’” -- Richard W.

“Writing requires sitting at a table. I don’t do that.” -- John L.

“When I was in middle school I suffered a debilitating injury that changed my life. I was doodling pictures of penises during math class when the teacher called my name, startling me so badly that I stabbed myself in the thigh with my pencil. I got severe lead poisoning, causing me to drop out of gym class (my best subject). After that, I devoted my life to fighting the scourge that is the No. 2 pencil. Soon others came to me with their horror stories involving other writing implements – a pen up the nose, a falling typewriter from a second story window, and let’s not forget all those exploding laptops. I knew this was an epidemic that had to be stopped. But how? I found my answer in the AMPTP, an organization dedicated to eradicating all writing instruments and those who use them.  So ... Read More »

Installment #5

Today’s piece is written by Greg Berlanti, Executive Producer of Dirty Sexy Money and Brothers and Sisters.

I’ve never considered myself much of a writer. I’m not particularly great at it. On my best day I don’t have half the talent of many people I’ve been lucky enough to hire and to work with. And this is not false humility. Ask any writer who works with me, they’ll tell you how much I rely on their abilities, how often I struggle to craft the simplest of scenes. I know a lot of other writers feel like they suck too, but that doesn’t make it easier (I know this because a large part of my day is convincing other writers they don’t suck. Once finished, I go back into my office and convince myself I do suck all over again). The problem is, regardless of my limited writing talent, I love telling stories. Creating a character, a world, a whole universe out of nothing. That part I can’t get enough of.  I think about myself and storytelling the way Bill Clinton described himself and the Presidency, and I’m paraphrasing here, “There are guys who have done it better, but there’s no one who’s enjoyed it more.”

As a kid, the first storyteller I wanted to be was Jim Henson. I designed and built puppets and had a business performing for birthday parties. If you’re curious what the rock bottom of the middle school caste system is, it’s The Kids Who Play With Puppets. Seriously, The Kids Who Played With Magic used to beat the crap out of me. Anyway, a day or so before the birthday party (even then I needed a deadline), I would sit and design a story based on the little facts of the birthday boy or girl’s life. Each time I sat down to do this, staring at the blank page in my Trapper Keeper, I would grumble to myself, “I hate this… stupid birthday… I’m never gonna think of anything. I’m the WORST BIRTHDAY PARTY PUPPET GUY EVER!” And then inevitably, I’d get some small idea that would lead to the next idea, and to the one after that, and in a few hours I had a story. At which point I would think to myself, ... Read More »

Installment #4

Today’s piece is written by Carol Mendelsohn, member of the WGA Negotiating Committee as well as showrunner and executive producer of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, and co-creator and executive producer of CSI: Miami and CSI: New York.

Once, a long time ago in Upstate New York, far above Cayuga’s waters, on a cold winter’s night in a rundown cockroach infested dump that passed for a house in Collegetown, one of my roommates drew a picture of me. She did this because it was Saturday night and she wanted me to go out and I wanted to stay in and watch TV.  (Footnote: back in the seventies, Saturday night was the best night of television. ALL IN THE FAMILY. MASH. MARY TYLER MOORE SHOW. CAROL BURNETT SHOW. LOVE BOAT. Imagine that).

Anyway, upon seeing the drawing, my other roommates heartily nodded their approval, for Ilene Greenberg had captured the true essence of me with her number two pencil and a sheet of plain white paper. (INSERT CSI SHOT HERE).

Okay, I’ll give you a clue, which is what I mostly do when I’m not walking the picket line for a fair deal in new media. My head was square. And protruding from the top of my pancake flat skull were two rabbit ears. Not the plushy, furry kind. Ilene had drawn a human television set. (Second Footnote: This was the Dark Ages, before plasmas, DirecTV, Electronic Sell Through and Streaming).

I was one of the first viewers to loyally embrace television. I was only three when my family’s first black and white TV set was plugged into the living room wall. It was more cabinet than TV, but I loved it with a passion that has consumed my entire life.

I quickly became a walking encyclopedia of TV facts and trivia. I watched everything, which in Chicago was only three network stations and the great WGN, Channel 9, which played Hollywood movies, all day and all night, when the Cubs weren’t in season.

My childhood, except for school and going to movies on State Street, revolved around that TV. It was years later that I found out people actually ... Read More »

I'd like to hear your theories/predictions/suggestions in the Comments section of this post about what positive (repeat, positive) steps can be taken starting January 1st to end this strike in a way that's perceived as fair to both sides since it's abundantly clear that neither the WGA nor the AMPTP is going to surrender anytime soon. (I won't be able to monitor comments until tonight so your musings won't post right away. Please don't email your comments, only post them here.)

Installment #3

Today’s piece is written by Howard Gordon, Executive Producer of 24.

I remember being in a writers’ room a few years ago, and someone - a brilliant and famous writer whose name I’ll keep to myself for now - rhapsodized about the exquisite ecstasy of the writing process. “Don’t you love it when you get lost inside the story, and the characters start speaking for themselves, and you look up and realize eight hours have passed?” I nodded dumbly, and smiled. Because I had no idea what the fuck he was talking about.

I’ve never had that experience. Never. Me, I’m a grinder. And a second-guesser. Since I can remember, I have suffered from some undiagnosed combination of OCD and ADD which causes me to spend hours on a preposition. Which is a long-winded way to describe this simple truth: I hate writing. I really do. Even writing this short essay is excruciating. Every word weighs on me like a millstone. Every. Single. Word.

What makes the process even more excruciating is that I am my own worst critic. No one has more contempt for my work than me. So studio and network notes are usually a cakewalk. Whatever they dish out, chances are I’ve already dished out for myself and come back for seconds.

So why do I write? Because as much as I hate writing, I love having written. All the pain suddenly falls away when the dialogue turns from a bunch of words under a character name into the living voices of real people, and the plot becomes more than just a series of events, but a story worth telling. However we get there, if we’re lucky, eventually we get there. Word by word. Line by line.

I write because it’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do. Not a day goes by that I don’t appreciate what a privilege it is to be a member of this profession. I suppose in some way, being a writer is the buy-in that allows me to enjoy the company and respect of my fellow writers. To count so many professional writers as friends and colleagues is one of my proudest accomplishments. I may not enjoy the creative process as much as my unnamed ... Read More »