WRITERS DANGLING OFF THE EDGE OF THE VERGE
And now I will speak of this...
This year I made it out of the pile for the NBC Writers on the Verge program. I had sent in my Mad Men spec. It was a kinda random choice. That spec is getting a little old and I'd been concentrating so much on other things that my spec pile as a whole was/is getting a little dusty. Of ABC/D, WB and NBC, I wound up sending each place a different spec. And WotV got this one.
There was the phone call on a rather lazy Monday. Jolted from bed, I was, in point of fact. Certainly one of my more preferred ways to begin a week.
Then, there was the interviewing. I hate the interviewing. Whenever these things don't pan out, I tend to blame the interviewing (whether accurate or not, and I'll never really know). Surely enough, twenty seconds after the point of too late is when I realize there were two or three things I should have/wanted to get in there and failed to do so.
There was the waiting. There was the trying not to think about it. There was the inevitable thinking about it. I didn't even want to tell anyone, because that led to the thinking about it.
Then, today, there was the not-getting-it.
Now I need to figure out what I'm going to submit next year. Then write it.
So instead of accepting congratulations and curses, I open the comments to condolences...and curses. There are pretty much always curses.
This year I made it out of the pile for the NBC Writers on the Verge program. I had sent in my Mad Men spec. It was a kinda random choice. That spec is getting a little old and I'd been concentrating so much on other things that my spec pile as a whole was/is getting a little dusty. Of ABC/D, WB and NBC, I wound up sending each place a different spec. And WotV got this one.
There was the phone call on a rather lazy Monday. Jolted from bed, I was, in point of fact. Certainly one of my more preferred ways to begin a week.
Then, there was the interviewing. I hate the interviewing. Whenever these things don't pan out, I tend to blame the interviewing (whether accurate or not, and I'll never really know). Surely enough, twenty seconds after the point of too late is when I realize there were two or three things I should have/wanted to get in there and failed to do so.
There was the waiting. There was the trying not to think about it. There was the inevitable thinking about it. I didn't even want to tell anyone, because that led to the thinking about it.
Then, today, there was the not-getting-it.
Now I need to figure out what I'm going to submit next year. Then write it.
So instead of accepting congratulations and curses, I open the comments to condolences...and curses. There are pretty much always curses.
9 Comments:
Dammit.
Bah. But congrats on making the finals.
Fuck! My condolences.
What the hell does NBC know. They let Heroes run four seasons....
Damn. But we'll make our own destinies...
Curses!
Interviewing gets easier with practice - you may want to read up on it, too. It might make a huge difference next year!
I remember that Mad Men. It was a good one. Unless it was a different one. Then it might have sucked.
Also: fuck.
Also: I don't even have a piece of shit car. I have to envy yours.
Dude. When you get a chance you should practice. If you like I will throw questions at you and you can practice answering them.
Sorry, man. But at least your writing caught their attention. The sheer mathematical numbers stuff behind that is impressive enough.
Someone somewhere once said the only difference between an interview and a firing squad is the blindfold. So, maybe with a phone interview there is no difference.
First, ugh. I'm sorry. But second...congratulations on getting the interview! I just got dinged from the WB Fellowship and they said 1400 people applied this year (400 more than last year, apparently). So to make the interview is awesome.
Now let's both go get drunk.
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