Malibu Shores

July 14, 2019

 

July 14, 2019

It’s not easy to reach Miles Copeland’s castle in France, where the Rocaberti Writer’s Retreat is held. First, you have to fly to Paris. Upon landing,  you race to the train station, and catch the one that stops at the Angouleme Station.

Angouleme, France

There, you board a private coach that winds up narrow mountain roads to an isolated 14th century castle.  On a journey like this, fluent French is a plus. I speak English and pigeon-Swedish.  Every mile of the way,  I worried. What if the website pictures lied, and all that awaited me was s a  cheesy tourist trap?  The photos did not lie.

A field of sunflowers on the way to the castle.
A field of sunflowers on the way to the castle.

When we rounded the corner and the castle came into view, it took my breath away.

Château de Marouatte
Château de Marouatte
Rocaberti Writer's Retreat July 2019
Rocaberti Writer’s Retreat participants July 2019

From there, it only got better.  Every step I took,  every inch of every alcove or hallway, was a feast for the eyes and soul.  I could almost inhale history. It’s a once in a lifetime experience that I can’t wait to repeat.

Things you glance at while casually strolling the hallways.
Things you glance at while casually strolling the hallways.
A bedroom fit for a king, occupied by John and me.
A bedroom fit for a king, occupied by John and me.

The brilliant Claire Elizabeth Terry and Gillian Pollock combined their talents to bring this dream to life. In addition to managing logistics, Gillian gave a hilarious pitch for her own script. Claire previewed an early cut of her soon-to-be-award winning short film “Thirty Minutes.”  Claire’s intuition paired me with Martin Olson (Phineas and Ferb) for a mentor. He was passionate, insightful, inspiring, and hilarious. (Make him tell you his Metallica story).

Serious writer, composer and intellectual, Martin Olson.
Serious writer, composer and intellectual, Martin Olson.
The other side of Martin Olson - with Jane Hodges, meditation leader and shaman.
The other side of Martin Olson – with Jane Hodges, meditation leader and shaman.

Rocaberti is an intimate, elegant dinner party as opposed to an extravagant banquet.  Only 18 – 20 writers attend a retreat.  Everybody who’ s there gets to know all the mentors. Diane Drake and Jen Grisanti wore great clothes (casual/classy) and exuded cool sophistication,  They were both of those things, but authentic and warm as well.  By the time dessert was served,  I felt like we were lifelong friends.  How often does that happen? Never – to me, anyway – not until Rocaberti.

Diane Drake and Jen Grisanti
Diane Drake and Jen Grisanti
Miles Copeland and Claire Elizabeth Terry
Miles Copeland and Claire Elizabeth Terry

It wasn’t perfect. The internet sucked, a relatively small price to pay to forge lifelong friendships and resurrect my love of writing. I returned for another retreat in October, this time with my sisters.  It was every bit as wonderful.

Super Chef Matt Fisher, Martin Olson, Pamela Jaye Smith and I forget two names!!
Super Chef Matt Fisher, Martin Olson, Pamela Jaye Smith and I forget two names!!

I expected to be back at Roberti right now, this time to serve as a floating mentor. Sadly, Covid  upended those plans. I look forward to rescheduling; I can’t wait to see it on my calendar again.

Mentors listen to a pitch - Pamela Jaye Smith, Jen Grisanti, Diane Drake and Martin Olson
Mentors listen to a pitch – Pamela Jaye Smith, Jen Grisanti, Diane Drake and Martin Olson
The writers
Another group photo of the writers

November 28, 1995

November 28, 1995

 

The conference call was about "Her Last Chance" - and Patti LuPone said yes.
The conference call was about “Her Last Chance” – and Patti LuPone said yes.

This was an exciting time. I loved the fast and furious pace of television versus the plodding development process in features. Most of my television credits are stand-alone MOWs (Movie of the Week), a 90s network staple. TV movies unfolded in seven acts, to accommodate six commercials. Ideally, all six act breaks were cliff-hangers, to ensure viewers didn’t channel hop when the ads started.

Me with Rita Hayworth
Me with Rita Hayworth

“Malibu Shores” was my only series experience. As co-producer, I worked long office hours with producers John Eisendrath and Joel Feigenbaum. After decades of writing at home on my own timetable, this was a shock to my system.

Malibu Shores

As staff writer-producers, we wielded more power than the directors we hired on a per-episode basis and the actors consulted us when they wanted to change a line.  John and Joel insisted I veto the first request, to experience the thrill of saying “no” to a script change.  That said, we could not say no to Aaron Spelling, broadcast Standards and Practices or the NBC executive in charge of the show.

Malibu Shores 2

In his novel Artistic Differences, Charlie Hauck compared producing a television series to chapter 37 of Moby Dick. I quote him below, slightly abridged. I highly recommend his book to anyone interested in staff writing.

“It’s exactly like chapter 37 of Moby Dick. Captain Ahab finally spots Moby Dick. He has a shot at him. And he gets a boat down in the water, a skiff or whatever. And he’s got these Asian guys rowing the boat. They’re not his regular guys – these are some kind of hotshot whaling experts. Anyhow, all these guys are rowing the boat. They really know what they’re doing…they’re Joe Whaler. And Ahab is standing in the back with this harpoon that he’s been sharpening for three years. And Moby Dick is flopping around, like, two hundred yards away. And all of a sudden, these sharks surround the skiff. They’re everywhere. And the sharks start taking bites out of the paddles of the oars. And the paddles are getting smaller and smaller, and it’s getting harder for the guys in the boat to row, and the whale’s not going to stay there forever, right?

But the thing is, the sharks don’t want the oars. They want the whale, just like Ahab and the Asian guys. But the sharks, who want the whale as much as anybody else, they’re the ones who make getting the whale impossible. You see?

And here’s the analogy. The whale is the television show. The hit series. Like, if it goes into syndication, everybody connected with it makes fifty million dollars. And the people in the boat, they’re the writers and producers. They’re the ones trying to get the whale, who know how to do it. And the sharks, the guys biting the oars, they’re the network guys, and the production company executives and the agents and everybody else who, when they don’t know how to get to the whale, decide, somewhere back in the swamp ova of the human brain, well, Jesus, I should do something, why don’t I try to sink the boat? And that’s exactly what it’s like trying to produce a television show.”

Artistic Differences_edited-1

 

September 10, 1996

September 10, 1996

This was an exciting, productive time in my writing career. Maybe a few lucky screen and television writers enjoy steady careers uninterrupted by unemployment; I suspect the majority, like myself, are either overbooked or out of work and terrified their career is over. My specialty, which kept me employed – mostly by NBC – during this period was my speed. I could deliver a Movie of the Week (MOW) ready for production in two weeks. It might not win any Emmys or Humanitas awards, but no one needed to use a pseudonym or hang their heads in shame.

8/7 PM Saturdays on NBC.
8/7 PM Saturdays on NBC.

I felt the pressure but didn’t mind it; I thrived on the crazy deadlines. I enjoyed and respected the creative people I worked with. I loved how MOWs (especially green-lit ones!) went into production minutes after I handed in a script. None of the months and years of development that went into film assignments only to wind up abandoned when the studio regime changed.

NBC Loomed large in my life and my cousin Craig and his wife Karen (who shares my exact birthday - year and everything) when they visited us in California.
NBC Loomed large in my life and my cousin Craig and his wife Karen (who shares my exact birthday – year and everything) when they visited us in California.

Another perk – television writers exert considerably more control over their work than feature writers; this is far truer for staff series writers than MOW writers. Either way, you are far less likely to be rewritten in television than features. That said, I did my fair share of MOW rewrites as well as originals; my name doesn’t appear on some of them because, unless it’s a page-one rewrite, it’s difficult for second or third writers to get credit and it always involves a WGA arbitration.

Outside in the NBC parking lot with Craig and Karen Thu again.
Outside in the NBC parking lot with Craig and Karen Thu again.

Kanan Road – which became Malibu Shores – has a special place in my heart because it was a backdoor pilot for a series which was ordered into production early in ’97. It turned out to be short-lived (being scheduled at 8 PM on Saturday nights – what some people called “the Tower of London” because that’s where NBC shows awaited execution – didn’t help. Especially since the target demographic was teens). That said, I learned a lot and appreciated every minute of it. I’m grateful to everyone who made it possible.

NBC Dropped the ball on this one..........
Did anybody drop the ball, who knows?