What's Your Slash?

As television production becomes decentralized, creators must diversify their skill-set—if they haven’t already)

Ten years ago, a group of fledgling actors scrapped together a couple hundred bucks, some cameras, and shot a short video that snowballed into a now-anticipated 12-season run on FX.

The origin story for It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia has been ballyhooed and used as an aspiring anecdote for years. It’s one of those ultimate Hollywood tales of unknowns catapulting themselves to notoriety and fame. But it’s not so much a story of overnight success, so much as proof that traditional methods of discovering talent can only do so much.

Earlier this year, Comedy Central premiered Broad City, an irreverent comedy about late 20-something New Yorkers that began years ago as both a web series and a work-around to not getting selected for elite improv teams.

What stories like It’s Always Sunny… and Broad City show us (among many other things) is that if you have talent, and if you’re ballsy—to say nothing of long-suffering—there are ways of being seen and heard and rewarded for taking a creative leap.

But as television slowly becomes decentralized, those leaps are most successfully made if you’re willing to expand your second and third-tier talents.

Luckily, the mantra of “Hire yourself” has been gaining more momentum and credibility with every successful…Sunny… or Broad City (or rise of Mindy Kaling, or Lena Dunham). And as networks snatch up more and more “unscripted” programming, and give directing gigs to kids like Martin Scorsese, the necessity of standing out from the pack, and providing a value to studios, becomes more attractive and more in demand.

By their very nature, networks and studios are risk-averse—and they always have been. Heck, studios have been lampooned since before the end of the Korean War for attaching known talent and creatively flogging them until they no longer put people in seats. From the gatekeepers’ perspective, why take a chance on an un-vetted unknown? Better to stick with what’s worked in the past, or is cheap—or better yet: is both.

As frustrating as this can be from the vantage of those who have yet to break into the industry, I believe that as little of an incentive studios have to partner with the unknown, there’s just as little incentive to wait around for someone else to give you the permission to tell the stories you need to tell.

Writers, perhaps more than any other faction, have always been able to take this initiative. Do you have a writing utensil? A cocktail napkin? Then what are you waiting for?

The difference, though, lies in getting your project seen. For that, I’m afraid you’re probably gonna need a little more.

When it comes to discovering new talent, studios and networks aren’t looking to partner with people who do one thing well. They’re looking for people who do all things well. And while it can often feel as though the development process is being largely abdicated, leaving creatives to do everything from write, direct, edit, cast, act, film, market, Tweet, Retweet, handle promos…there’s something to be said for bringing a finished product to the table and saying, “Look what I can do. Now, um…maybe pay me for it?”

But guess what? That’s hard. Especially when you’d much rather just focus on the one thing that gets you up out of bed every morning. The challenge often can become: how do I continue to specialize in my first / primary skill set, when I’m being torn, out of necessity, to consistently produce content from start to finish?

If you’re still reading, then you probably know by now what the thrust of this piece is, and that’s largely an exhortation to keep making art. Even the bad stuff. Because over time, the bad becomes mediocre, and the mediocre becomes decent, and the decent becomes good, and the good can become great.

The good news is that television—and web-based media—reward collaboration from the earliest stages, throughout inception to series finale. (Narrative film, when done independently, still largely relies and rewards individuals who know how to lock themselves in a room until they come out with a finished project.)

Outside of continuing to make stuff, it’s imperative to collaborate with others who share your sensibilities and compliment your skill set. Part of the joy of storytelling—perhaps even the chief joy—is surrounding yourself with others who share your creative vision. It can be incredibly isolating and disparaging to create in a vacuum, so seek out those who can help you carry the load. Yes, good partners are hard to find, but just about every urban area from Los Angeles to South Bend has a creative community rich with resources. Find them. And then get to work.

Because the game is changing, and it’s looking for new players.

As Hollywood gradually becomes less decentralized, and hopefully even more democratic, my guess is that a stable middle-class will emerge. There’s a good chance that could mean smaller deals, but more of them, too. And, as we’re seeing more and more shows produced by those who are comfortable wearing many hats, culture at-large is being treated to dynamic shows aren’t toothless, vanilla picks aimed at particular demographics, but rather the ones with unique, one-of-a-kind visions from people who have spent a lot of time in the trenches, mastering storytelling from every possible angle.

So, why can’t that storyteller be you…?

Crystal Hubbard is a ScreenCraft guest contributor and freelance writer / producer. She was a finalist for the New York Television Festival Fox Comedy (Spec Pilot) contest in 2011 and 2013, and has interned for Disruption Entertainment. She recently finished her first work-for-hire project that will (fingers crossed) be making the studio circuit in the near future. She performs with the indie improv group Dad Martinez, and writes for the fledgling pop culture blog Smash Cut Culture. She occasionally tweets (but mostly lurks) over @cnhubbard