Last week we finished the classroom part of the course, and the writers now all go off to start their commissions on the shows next month. They'll be writing Casualty, EastEnders, Holby and Doctors for most of the next year. These are real commissions for which they're paid a real fee, of course. No more dry runs. For all the preparation a course can give you - and I think ours is pretty good - there's no way a writer can know what's it's like until they actually start to work with the shows. They're not given special treatment - if they don't make it, they don't work after the first year.

So, for all of you thinking of applying next year, we're hoping to advertise in April. But I just wanted to also say that it's really not the only way to write for Continuing Drama. I feel like I've said this many times, but writers still tell me they think it's the only way in. It absolutely isn't! All our Shadow Schemes are up and running next year for each show (see our Continuing Drama webpages on this site for more info). We're hoping that the EastEnders online spin off - E20 - written by 16-22 year olds will run again later in 2010. We will also be running regular courses and events with the Writersroom, who also work very closely with us winkling out suitable talent from their massive pile of submissions to pass our way. It's all part of what is now a proper concerted development plan for the training and protection of new writers in this department. We've been doing some sums here. Five years ago most new writers on their first commission for Continuing Shows failed. The current failure rate is down drastically to 20%. 92 new writers have developped (and sustain) regular careers with us since 2005. Not bad in the current climate.

One further thought before I finish blogging for a while - in danger of coming full circle and repeating myself now. I just wanted to cut and paste this from the Writersroom's interview with Jimmy McGovern - who came to talk to us at the Writers Academy last week, as he wonderfully does every year.

He was asked...

For many writers the thought of going to write on a continuing drama series makes them worry they are going to lose their individuality, their voice, who they are. What would you say to that?

"Get real. You should be so lucky. There are brilliant writers on Coronation Street, on EastEnders. I know sometimes it can look naff, but that's often down to other things. These are really good writers. If you get the chance to write something that goes out in front of eight million, nine million people, how dare you turn your nose up at that? You should give your right arm for it. I loved and hated the show I worked on. But mostly I loved it."

Quite.

Happy Christmas
x

It's been a rollercoaster few weeks for us and them, and it always goes by in a flash, so it's hard to believe it's nearly over. They've written wonderful adaptations of fairy tales - some of which I'm sure will get made as films one day. They've stood on sets and watched filming. They've structured and restructured the same episode of Holby City. They've watched a lot of telly and lots of movies. They've had wonderful generous sessions with Russell T Davies, Richard Curtis, Tony Jordan, Peter Bowker and a host of other writers at the top of their game. But most of all they've written, written and rewritten.

So they're about to go off and do one of the hardest and most rewarding writing jobs in television. Any advice you want to give them, you writers out there? The experienced and the less experienced... what should we tell them?

So the course is up and running, and the writers have been working away for three weeks now up at the classroom in Elstree. I won't embarrass them by talking about them, but perhaps I'll persuade one or two of them to contribute to the blog soon. Anyway, it's all going very well. They've had lectures from John Yorke on structure, character, and from others on production, casting, acting and formatting. They've had set visits to EastEnders, Holby and Doctors, and are already working away on their first Doctors script. This morning we've had Richard Curtis in talking to the group - a huge treat.

Last night we had a bit of a reunion of all five years worth of writers. They all still seem to be mostly friends. And the sense of being together as a group each year, still helps them through the toughest commissions. That, and the paranoia that they think everyone else is doing better than they are!

Also today sees the launch of the new Continuing Drama pages on the writersroom website. We've put up a lot of information about the various ways we get new writers on to the shows - through our Shadow Schemes and the Writers Academy. There is also an interview with John Yorke, who talks about what writers need to write for Continuing Drama. We hope the pages will be a source of information for writers and agents alike, and much of what is on there comes from questions asked by regular contributors here. So... thanks.

...I hear some of you ask. "Don't you just give places to writers you know anyway?"

It's true we do know many of the writers who make it on to the course. But that's because me and the team spend the rest of the year reading work and meeting writers. It's our job to know as many writers as possible. We read submissions from agents, go to the theatre, speak at courses, attend readings, talk to other parts of the BBC, get scripts sent from the Writersroom - all year round. I have - oh - fifteen scripts from writers who's work I've never read on my desk at this precise moment.

However, the joy of the Writers Academy application process is that total unknowns (to us) make it through. I've had a look at this year's short list to give you an idea.

28 writers were shortlisted for the workshops. Of those...

Six were writers who's work we hadn't come across at all
Six had applied in previous years (one of those had got through to the interview stage and one had been shortlisted in previous years)
Six were writers whose work we knew because their agents had sent it to us
Five were writers whose work had been sent to us by the Writersroom
One was a writer I met on a Writersroom course
Two were theatre writers who we'd met after seeing their work
One was recommended to us by Radio Drama
One was recommended to me by a Script Editor

The Writers Academy 2009 will be:

Tim Price
Shazia Rashid
Kim Revill
Nicola Wilson
Simon Vinnicombe
Tahsin Guner
Stacey Gregg
Lauren Klee

Big congratulations to them!

We're now down to the final 13 who will be interviewed next week. The two workshop days last week were brilliant. Kate Rowland and I met twenty nine writers and they got to find out a bit more about Continuing Drama and whether it was for them. All the writers were good, but it was a process of finding who we felt could be the "all rounders" - those who'd be as a happy writing Holby as Doctors, EastEnders as Casualty.

The joy of the whole workshop process is we're uncovering talent, not just for the Writers Academy but for the whole department. Each writer who doesn't make it onto the Academy is given feedback and looked at by the shows separately - either for commission or for one of the shadow schemes which all four shows are running. The Writers Academy is just one way into writing for Continuing Drama, and it's by no means the only way, and I am really hoping lasting relationships will be formed with some of the shortlisted writers by individual shows too.

The involvement of the Writersroom also means that the writers will be given access to other parts of the BBC - advice on how to get seen by Radio, Childrens etc...as part of their feedback.

So, for those who don't make it past this stage the story doesn't end here....

It's been a month since I last blogged, and we've now shortlisted down to thirty writers. This means that everyone who entered should have received a "yes" or a "no". If you haven't - something's gone wrong - so you need to get in touch with us directly.

This is the longest stage of the process. Each of the 150 long-listed scripts was read in full by two members of the drama department and marked in eight categories: Dialogue, Character, Narrative Structure and Pace, Distinctive Voice, Emotional Appeal, Visual Storytelling, Credible World and "Did it keep your attention?". Each section is marked out of five and so the final score is a mark out of 80. It's tough "scoring" writing ability, but at least it gives us something to hang our responses on and it's the best system we've come up with so far. Anyone got a better suggestion I would love to hear it!

The team and I then read as many of those as is humanly possible (usually all those with marks over 50). We then (and only then) look at the application forms and factor those into the equation:
- Do they watch (or at least pretend to watch!) Continuing Drama? - you'd be amazed those applications that don't even mention the programmes... or television!
- Do they have some knowledge of the pressure they'll be working under?
- Do they come across as writers who can work collaboratively? - really difficult to judge, and this is what the workshops are all about.
- What's their writing CV so far and how does it show an aptitude for this kind of writing? (that doesn't mean only writers who've worked on continuing drama before)
- Do they want it? - do they really want it? Again impossible to judge from 400 words on a stuffy online application form, but you have to try get to the heart of what they're saying and make a judgement on this.

Then... we get input from the Writersroom for anyone on the list who's work they've read, we ask around, we ask for second opinions, we compare notes... basically we do everything we can to try and make this rather artificial process as fair and as exhaustive as possible.

I'll be meeting the final thirty at the workshops later this week. We're very excited about them, and the quality of work this year, everyone agrees, has been higher than ever. If you didn't make it this time, I would really encourage you to try again next year. I could have filled the workshops several times over with worthy people.

We've now completed our first sift. My team and I shut ourselves away in the WritersRoom offices for three days and have "longlisted" the applications down to 150. The rest will have received emails telling them they didn't make it this time. So, if you haven't heard anything yet, you're still in the running.

The process of the first sift involves us reading the first ten pages of each script. If we then want to read further, the script is put forward for a further two complete reads by members of the Drama Department. This is the Longlist.

We can't provide any meaningful individual feedback for the 350 entries we reject at this stage, there's just too many, so I've tried to put down a few thoughts here that may be helpful.

It's a very intensive few days. What amazes me is that the best scripts do stand out, unequivocally. A good script lets the reader know within the first ten pages why it needs to be read. There is nothing more frustrating than reading 10 pages of a script and finding yourself wondering why the writer selected these characters and this situation. Some scripts seem so intent on establishing their world that they forget that something needs to happen with this world to generate a narrative.

Personally speaking, I felt there was more variety and ambition to the scripts submitted this year. Subject-wise there was more teen drama, more horror and more funerals. No idea why that is. I blame Skins! Again, as last year, it was often the theatre play scripts that stood out for their originality, maybe because writers felt they had more freedom with the format. There were certainly many technically competent television screenplays, but some of these told rather boring stories, or that simply wallowed in depression.

I've also put down some general thoughts gathered from the team:

Positives:

- Most of the readers felt that the standard was higher this year.
- Lots of bravery - interesting original worlds.
- Sparky dialogue
- Technically accomplished scripts (although this meant the need to be stand out original was greater)

Negatives:

- Too many stage directions
- Scripts opening with several pages of monologues
- Dialogue that sprouted facts endlessly
- Spelling mistakes and hard to read script formats

So, now we begin the process of shortlisting down to the final thirty people who'll be invited to the Workshops in July. I'll report back on that process towards the end of June.

Well the entries are all in - around 500 this year this year - well up on last year.

We're going to shut ourselves away now and read them all, so I won't have much to say for the next few weeks.

The plan is as follows:

- By the end of May we will let everyone know who didn't make it through the First Sift.
- By Early July we will be able to let everyone know who hasn't made the Shortlist.
- In Mid July we'll hold workshops for the shortlisted writers.
- In Late July we'll hold interviews and the final selection of eight writers will be made.

I'll report back at the various stages, and announce the final eight on this blog.

TTFN

Make sure you have uploaded your writing sample when you submit your application. I'm told we've had a few sent through with no scripts attached. I'll try and chase a few of these and let them know.

12 days to go....

Applications for the course open next Monday 6th April. Do keep your eye on this website for details of when the online application goes live.

To give your another flavour of what the course is like, I thought we'd hear from another recent graduate. Gill Adams completed the classroom part of the course just before Christmas, and is currently writing for Doctors. She writes this about her experience....

"Firstly - I'd say make sure you don't have any other work to do before you start the course as it'll prove tricky to give time to anything unrelated to the course work - The cut and thrust of learning is fast and furious and you do have to give it everything you've got - it demands that and believe me it takes it!! BUT if you do have a deadline which is after the course, you'll feel and see a massive difference in your ability to get there much faster. I had a 2nd draft of a play for Hull Truck to deliver in Jan and it was a blast writing it a fresh knowing instinctively which direction to take it.

At times you may feel overwhelmed, maybe even a bit stupid, like a novice writer who knows nowt, but that soon passes and when it does the feeling of achievement is so worth it. I suddenly felt like everything which made me the kind of writer I am (inside me heart that is) mattered, not only to me but to John and Ceri and it's wonderful to be told finally by those' in the know' that the industry does recognise your ability to entertain people, make them think, laugh, cry and basically tell a bloody good story, I know it sounds daft but I didn't really believe in myself totally before the course, I felt like I was often busking it, now I know I'm not. (If I put the work in) I'm in control.

Towards the end of the course, I re-read a lot of my old stuff and it really helped me, it reminded me of why I started writing , where my writing heart is - that ache I seem to carry in everything I write - I know why it's there. It's painful to be honest on the page, but it's the only way to be true to your self. I tried writing other ways and it was rubbish, I know when I connect to a spark of something painful, I'm really communicating on the page. I'm more motivated and focused than before and I love getting notes! Now I can change things without it feeling like I've failed in some way and I can see where they're coming from much clearer.

It's not easy juggling course work with relationships - my only suggestion is be prepared to be totally selfish and invisible at home - it doesn't allow for any socialising really - and you WILL change. Inside and out, for sure, it's a short but massive journey and it shakes you to the core of who you are and you may well question everything around you for evermore....but in hopefully in a good way! The question at the end of the day is - How much do you want this? Let's just say that from now on I know I have to give it 100% of everything I am - that's what it takes, there's no excuses not to anymore.

The power of eight - You'll bond with the rest of the writers on the Academy and no doubt miss them afterwards; you'll share an incredible journey with them, laugh and in some cases even cry with them, and you'll feel as proud of them as you hopefully do yourself. BUT you are there to work hard and learn, don't think it's one big social club, it isn't and there's plenty of time after the course to stay in touch. Put the work before everything - it's over before you know it and you won't get that crucial 'one to one' tutorial time again. So if you don't understand something don't feel daft asking more than once! Keep asking until you do. That's what they're there for and it shows in your work when you don't.

The highlight of the Academy for me were the guest speakers.......Ohhh they'll come and they'll inspire you and maybe even scare you a bit, but most of all, their great energy, encouragement and BIG clever hearts will stay with you forever."

The Writers Academy has been going for four years now. 32 writers have done the course, and I thought it might be useful to look at what's happened to them....

Academy writers have joined the core writing teams of all four shows... five at Casualty (including one, Mark Catley, who's now the Lead Writer), six at Holby, two at EastEnders and one at Doctors

28 out of the 32 are in pretty much constant work for the department.

One has a new series in development for BBC 3

One is developping an internet drama for the BBC.

One wrote last week's episode of Shameless

Several have kept up theatre and radio writing careers alongside their work for us.

I was at a meeting the other day to talk about writer training (at an institution outside the BBC). I was talking about why new writers sometimes failed when writing for the shows I worked for. I suggested that it might be because they didn't like them or even watch them when they got the gig. I may even have said "You need to love them to write them". A writer who was there came in (rather aggressively, I felt) with "Well we all know that writers on 'those shows' only write them to pay their mortgages."

A little while later in the same meeting, a former writing student was wheeled into the meeting to talk about their experiences since graduating their course. He told us how he'd completed a shadow scheme script for one of the BBC Continuing Dramas, but had been told that his services weren't required and that he hadn't "got" the show. He went on to say that he had only tried out for the show because his agent had told him it would make a good career move, and he didn't really watch it. Hmm, point proven I thought -though I didn't say anything, as the first writer had been quite scary.

It's completely fascinating to me that the suggestion that writers on Continuing Dramas write them because they love them arouses such bile in some people. Or that a high volume show like Holby should aspire to create intelligent drama, should provoke such ire, as it did on this blog a couple of weeks ago. Why so cross about it?

Anyway, my point this week is to say that if you're thinking about applying to the Writers Academy next month, you'd better start working up some passion and WATCH TELLY.

This week I've asked Rob Williams (Writers Academy Graduate 2008) to write the blog for me. He finished the course just before Christmas and is in the throes of his first Holby City script...

"When people ask me what I did before the Writers Academy, I used to reply 'I had a Proper Job'. I don't say that any more. The thirteen weeks on the Academy and the period since have dispelled any notion that you can hope to be a successful television writer without thinking of it as a Proper Job. What I had, before September last year, was a Great Job. I was Creative Director at one of London's biggest publishing houses. I had an assistant who told me where to be, staff who were paid to care what I thought, a salary that comforted my Mum and a company credit card that impressed my Dad. And I genuinely loved what I did with my days. The one thing I didn't have was time to devote to my own writing - and specifically - writing television drama.

The company I worked for treated me brilliantly for five years, and six months before I left I was allowed to go to a three-day week to enable me to write. And that was great; I think if I hadn't been offered a place on the Academy I'd still be happily working at home on Thursdays and Fridays. Before that, it was evenings and weekends. Before that, bleary-eyed early mornings. I've experimented with all the permutations of managing a more-than-full-time job with the demands we place on ourselves as writers. Most of them work - but in my case, only to a larger or lesser extent. I'd reached a point in my life, personally and professionally, where I needed to decide: was I going to have a proper tilt at this, or not?

It wasn't really a decision in the end. It was an imperative. And once you've made that mental leap, I think you have to treat each stage of the Academy as a job. Getting on is a job in its own right - and you can't start preparing too early. The day I was offered a place felt like reaching some kind of summit. And I had; but I now realise that it was only the first of many. Having climbed that mountain, the classroom part of the Academy sometimes looked like an unfeasibly treacherous climb; and on the other side of that awaits the point of it all: the shows themselves. That's the stage I'm at now - and last September already feels like aeons ago. So, looking back ...

Financially, let's be honest, it has to be about taking the long view - and I realise not everybody can do that. I'd done a bit of saving and a great deal of high-level embezzlement (not really - no, honestly, I didn't) and for those thirteen weeks at Elstree, you have no life to spend your attendance fee on anyway. Interview dates mean that notice periods can result in some nail biting negotiation (I was offering five weeks rather than my contractual three months). Interestingly though, leaving for the Writers Academy rather than a bigger car allowance, my employers generally understood what I was doing and seemed to feel it wouldn't be right to stand in the way of it.

After eight years in busy offices enjoying the constant chatter and easy stimulation, the structure and the security, there was a definite sense of being 'exposed' suddenly - and in more ways than one (the trouble with getting what you say you want is that your main escape route from a Monday morning existential crisis instantly closes). Having worked hard to attain a level of expertise in my role, it came as a shock when I realised that it counted for very little in my new day-to-day. Although in saying that, it's worth adding that everybody on the Academy is to some extent starting again. However, I certainly didn't feel 'myself' for the first part of the course and I suspect at least some of that was due to just how much of my identity had become bound up with what I did rather than who I am; but before this descends into therapy, in purely practical terms, I wouldn't recommend four days between 'lives' if it can be avoided ...

There were definitely times when I wondered if I'd made a mistake - but most of those doubts sprang from whether I could really do this rather than whether I still wanted to. Fantasies of returning to my previous life never lasted long and though I certainly still miss aspects of it, I can honestly say I haven't experienced a single moment of regret.

Nobody can tell you when the perfect time is to quit your job and follow your heart - but I suspect that the hour doesn't actually exist. I can't even sit here today and say I made the 'right decision'; for one thing, there's no definitive way to measure that. Except there is really, isn't there? The only measure. Waking up in the morning, thinking about what you're going to be doing today and knowing in your gut that you're at least on the right track, wherever it goes. That's what I now call a Proper Job."

Yesterday we had one of our regular get-togethers for the Script Readers, who help me and the team read through the large amount of submissions we get year round. I invited Simon Harper along to speak to them. Simon is the Development Editor on Holby City. His job is to find and develop new writers for the show. He said that it was often writers who sent in theatre or radio scripts appealed to him more, because the dialogue was sharper, and the stories more adventurous. "Erudition" was something he looked for in a script, and "grown up writing". Too many writers, he said, looked backwards when they wrote television, back to the early days of Holby, a style of writing that existed before shows like Grey's Anatomy and The West Wing, part of a wave of American TV drama that's had a huge influence for the good over here. He wanted writing that took chances and showed ambition and aspiration.

Later, I asked the readers for their pet likes and dislikes. One thing that ranked high on the list of dislikes was scripts where the writer seems to be trying to write what they think is television, rather than writing honestly and from the heart, and intelligently. The result of this, everyone agreed, was too many scripts that could only be classed as "competent but dull" - filled with old fashioned television clichés and that, worst of all, talked down to the audience.

Personally speaking, I read a lot of scripts where I feel the writer has "dumbed down" what they have to say, as if they think that is what is required on television. In fact, Continuing Drama, as anyone who loves it will tell you, is at its best when it treats its audience as intelligent adults.

Is there self-censoring going on out there? We don't want "television", but honest believeable drama. Is that unfair?