A Station Eight Fan Web Site
Can I just say I suck at this - and it's MY career!
On a scale of 1 to 10, how creeped out would you be if I told you I loved you at a meet and greet?
I guess it would depend on your tone of voice and how much of my personal space you invaded.
1. Is "tritto" a real word?
2. How difficult is it balancing work time in the film/television industry with, say, family time?
1. Not to my knowledge.
2. Sometimes, very. But that's the gig. And mostly, I think my family feels like I'm there for them. I always make them the priority when they need me - and even when they don't. But there are late nights occasionally.
Hello Mr. Weisman. You won't remember me - I asked a question a while back about CN's rules about guns on the show.
Anyway, as somebody who really wants to write for television in the future, I'm asking you if you have any tips for breaking into the industry. I'm a high school junior so I'm beginning to look at colleges and was wondering if you had any advice to give out when it comes to getting into the buisness of television writing.
As always, love the series and can't wait for more!
Greg Weisman says:
"First and foremost, you write. Then write some more. Then do a little writing. Read a lot. Write some more. Read some more. Read a lot. Write a lot. Study story structure. Study great literature. Study myth and legends. Joseph Campbell. Listen to how people talk. How they really talk. Learn your craft. Get a kick-ass education. Write. Read.
Get copies of animation (or other television) scripts. Learn the format.
Write spec scripts for shows that you like. Try to use those specs to get an agent. Then your agent can use those specs to get you work. Write more specs. If you can't get an agent, send the specs to production companies that you admire. Don't send a Batman spec to Warner Bros or a Gargoyles to Disney. Legally, they can't risk reading those. But you can send Batman to Disney and Gargoyles to Warners. (I know it sounds weird. There's a real good reason for this, but it's a whole other question, so for now just trust me.) Actually, you shouldn't be writing a Gargoyles spec at all, since that show isn't producing new episodes now. You don't want your spec to come off as yesterday's news. Keep reading. Keep writing. Try writing a pilot script and a short bible for an original series. Try using those to get an agent or work (any work, you need credits on your resume.)
Oh, yeah. PROOFREAD. PROOFREAD. PROOFREAD. Read your own work aloud, you catch more mistakes that way. Read. Write. Write some more. Get used to a lot of rejection. A LOT OF REJECTION.
That's the best advice I can give you except this: writing for television is an extremely difficult career to break into, let alone succeed at; so if you don't really have a PASSION for it, then do something else. You'll need that passion to see you through a lot of dark times. If you can be happy doing anything else, then do that other thing.
Otherwise, good luck."
[Response recorded in the early days of Ask Greg; precise date unknown.]
Why do you enjoy making the fandom explode?
That's it and you're awesome!
Greg! You are my hero (professionally at least. I mean, face it, I don't know you. You could be an axe-murderer). I want to spend my life doing what you do. Any pieces of advice for an aspiring writer? What are good ways to train myself / further my writing skills / develop confidence in my voice (or my character's voices)? How did you get your start professionally, and what are some good avenues towards putting your work out in the world?
I thoroughly look forward to seeing the rest of your work, because all of it has been great. Thank you and adieu.
At the risk of losing my heroic status, I'm going to demur here, since all this information is already available in the ASK GREG archives. (I've been asked this MANY times before.) For example, check out "Animation", "Behind the Scenes", "Biz, The" and "Weisman, Greg" for starters.
You are....amazing. No character is wasted in your series, they all connect back somehow, somewhere. Little movement is wasted in plot.
How do you come up with this stuff?
With help from other very talented people and with a lot of index cards on a huge bulletin board. Oh, and with research.
Mr. Weisman, while you will undoubtedly get to this message months afterwards at best, given the backlog of questions thus far, I wanted to give my condolences for you and your family's loss in Sue Weisman. I also wanted to thank you for the honest and touching small commentary you made on the subject, highlighting the complex emotional situation of watching an older loved one lose themselves to either Alzheimer's, senility, or just age itself (I would not want to make a definite assumption, based on what you described). It sounds to me like she lived a long, fascinating life populated by people she loved, and nobody could ask for more than that. I send my sorrow regarding her passing, and my hope that your upcoming family gathering will provide you some emotional closure or insight to help you through this time.
Thank you for the many years of excellent entertainment, as well. I look forward to many more.
The actual celebration didn't really effect my mood, though it was wonderful to see the extended family come to celebrate her.
I think I got more out of a later event: a handful of us took her ashes and illegally scattered them in a location that she loved. That was fun and sneaky and silly, and felt more like her spirit was with her.
What is your take on yj fan fiction? Have you read any?
Greg Weisman says:
"I'm very ambivalent toward fanfiction . On the one hand, it's very gratifying. I've created something that has taken on a life of it's own. That people like enough to invest their time into and create anew. On the other hand, I have a territorial instinct that exhibits a kind of knee-jerk negative reaction to seeing other people controlling the destiny of my characters. (That's the main reason why Goliath Chronicles was so painful for me to watch.)
For example, I know that TGS is doing their own TimeDancer spin off. That's very cool, but somebody mentioned (though I don't know if this was the final word) that they're not naming Brooklyn's son Nashville, because they think the name is silly or because they hate country music or whatever. I can't help resenting that. (I know it's not rational, but I'm trying to be honest about my emotions here.) I haven't explained the Nashville name. I don't intend to explain it yet. Obviously, I have no intention of making Brooklyn into the next Garth Brooks, but I'm not in the mood to go into my reasons yet. But when someone else decides that GREG THE GARGOYLE MASTER made a misstep regarding the name of a character, I bristle.
But going back to the first hand, I have to acknowledge that once a thing is created and sent out into the world, it no longer belongs to the creator, but to the interpretations of those who received it. If a fan believes that Gargoyles were created by fey sorcery, then to that fan they were, no matter what I might say to the contrary in a comment room. Fanfiction is the ultimate example of fans interpretating (and extrapolating upon) what they've seen."
[Response recorded in the Station 8 "Gargoyles" FAQ, Section XXXIV.]
So in a tryce came the documentary depicting many a Chinese doll and also the three wise men (who may or may not have been kings) that needed sixty-two dollars between them to redeem the coupon, which offered up solace and not a little irony to anyone who hadn't yet seen the crew chewing on leaves that weren't tobacco, but might have been sage and still left horrible stains in the dirt floor of the lean-to where I left my ski poles after the overnight with the cranes that were kept on the lake domestically for the purpose of tourism but who could also speak Latin on occasion when prompted by offers of cheese or jerky -- though not just any jerky, it had to be salmon jerky -- which isn't always easy to come by when you've agreed to leave before closing on summer days in the springtime of your life, which has been known to last longer in people who aren't concerned about under-inebriation or over-intoxication or both: it's the balance which is everything when nothing else will do and no one else will participate in the extravaganza that's been created by the giant invisible flying monkey brain that is modern life in the Twenty-First Century, counting since the (approximate) birth of Christ -- as long as the lack of the number zero doesn't disturb your math sensibilities as, frankly, it does mine, though I like to think I've made peace with that and with the Skrull too, since I haven't picked up an issue of that book in about nine years, which wasn't an intentional or explicit act of cold turkey so much as a sliding away followed by a none-too-impressive epiphany -- far from the best epiphany I've ever had, say, compared to Tintagel or Lego, not to mention the birth of certain children, which couldn't get more personal than the zany antics of the semi-erotic flea circus, which used to travel the stars waiting for an invitation to land at your door, since you are the personal target of the extra-lunar probe that counted all the seahorses that Aquaman used to make the giant seahorse that he could actually ride, though no faster than he could swim himself on his own power -- and no, we're not talking Super Friends here, but something older, more primal, something that was born back when the Ptero-whatever streaked across the sky leaving behind contrails made not of smoke but of pure and unadulterated grace, a commodity in which we are sorely shy as a planet, and yet which we find in the most unlikley of places, including but not limited to contracts which dictate how we will interact with each other but do it in such a way that no normal human being could possibly wrap their heads around the language and internalize the meaning, which we declare to be progress or civilization and which is not meant as a criticism so much as a detachment of troopers marching on a hill that you wouldn't pay five ducats -- FIVE! -- to buy yourself, or so I told myself and Hamlet night after night, but now Hamlet is a Thief on FX and I haven't seen him face to face in over twenty years, which sometimes seems quite normal but sometimes blows me away, not that I want to move backwards at all, though I'm not sure that I'm truly moving forward and I'm convinced I'm not moving sideways, though the metaphor of the sidewinder is appealing, not in the cliché sense of something sinister and left-handed, though I do throw with my left hand, I can bowl just as badly with either hand, and even though I'm 42, I quite prefer to have bumpers instead of gutters, where the rain gets backed up and sometimes flows over the lip and creates leaks in the roof and drips, drips, drips down into the shiny metal bowl that's usually used for something much more pleasant like mixing cookie dough to create chewy wonderful ... well.. cookies (I mean "duh") that taste a little bit like home even when you are home and it is raining, or maybe ESPECIALLY when you are home and it is raining and the water overflows and the ocean fills and the giant seahorse peaks out and winks at the cranes, which is exactly what the documentary crew was hoping to capture when they first took out their cameras and shot the whole thing from three different angles across six different days and still never saw the giant invisible flying monkey brain, because it was, to put it mildly, invisible.