Winter Holidays | COVID Style

Winter holidays during COVID. Let’s be honest, way too many people (including the ones who are publicly shaming people for not wearing masks and going out too much) will be defying the CDC’s recommendations to stay home this holiday season.

I can tell you I’m tempted.

I’m someone who’s low risk. I can drive to my sister’s house where I spend every Christmas and only stop once for gas and a break. Low risk. I can easily quarantine before I go and get tested multiple times, but can’t quarantine when I get there. My sister and brother-in-law get tested regularly for work, so there’s some additional safety. 

Not only that, I honestly can’t remember the last time I got a virus. *knocks on wood* Not sure if it’s because I’m a relatively isolated person in general or if I just have a great immune system, but I’m not too worried that I’ll actually get COVID. I’m more worried about how I’ll do *if* I get it since I have other health issues that could complicate it. But I digress. Essentially, I feel okay about the chances I or someone around me will contract COVID.

But there are no guarantees. There’s always risk. My niece and nephew go to school (they’re 4 and 6 and have small class sizes) and even though they get tested, my sister and BIL as essential workers are still going to work (both technically in construction/maintenance fields) and face potential exposure. Mostly, I just don’t want to be that asshole who hears the guidelines and thinks, “Well, sure, but that doesn’t apply to me because I’m special. I’m taking precautions, so that makes me different.”

Here’s the thing—it’s not that hard to have a good holiday on your own. I’ve done it before. I chose to spend Thanksgiving alone last year and loved it. This Thanksgiving was great too. Use it as an excuse to treat yourself to a few nice things and spend a portion of the day on Zoom with your family. Order in a nice dinner or spend the time cooking for yourself. Drive around and look at Christmas lights. Put on some holiday music. Drink lots of hot chocolate.

But it’s not as simple as that this year. Because Congress still hasn’t passed a new relief bill. So many of us (myself included) can’t treat ourselves to something nice. So we get the double hit of not seeing our family and not really being able to celebrate on our own.

In a normal year, like so many other people in the richest country in the world, I’m already living paycheck to paycheck. Especially around this time. Spending $40 on gas to visit family is worth it because I’m fed for a week and I get the emotional boost from being around everyone.

Plus, as a perpetually single person, it’s nice to not have to do everything myself for once (calm down, I help around the house when I visit, but that’s different from having to do literally everything myself). Not to mention the cost of all the holiday festivities—Christmas tree, decorations, cookies, renting holiday movies, etc.

But this year what our government is asking us to do isn’t just to not see family. By not passing any sort of relief bill they’re also asking many of us to end this hellish year alone without properly celebrating. For anyone not already mentally suffering, this could be the final straw.

So in some ways, I don’t blame people for wanting to travel this holiday season. Our government hasn’t given us enough resources or enticement to stay home. They also haven’t given us a unified message about how to celebrate safely. Yes, I’m talking to you, multiple White House holiday parties with no social distancing guidelines and no mask mandates.

Look, I’ll probably be fine. Many of us will probably be fine. But to continue to ask constituents to sacrifice over and over again while not sacrificing on their end (going to parties at the French Laundry and holding tight to the pursestrings in Congress) is unacceptable. We pay taxes for exactly this kind of thing. For one supposedly unified institution to distribute funds for the betterment of our country.

I’ve barely left my house since March. I do contactless pick-up for my groceries and take-out (and occasionally go to the open air Farmers Market to support local vendors). I can count on one hand how many times I’ve seen friends, and it’s all been socially distanced. I haven’t been in a retail store in 9 months. I’m doing all the things.

But I’m not gonna lie—seeing so many people buck these guidelines is demoralizing. I know what I’m doing is helping. I know there are both indirect and direct consequences if I don’t adhere to guidelines. But when I see people out and about, when I see the COVID numbers rising, it feels like being spit in the face (especially not cool during a pandemic).

And I’m not even an essential worker. I cannot imagine how they feel. It’s so disrespectful to their hard work and service. Literally the only thing you have to do to protect people is not do anything. It’s the easiest selfless act you’ll ever have to do.

A pandemic relief bill won’t solve everything, but if we pay people to stay home and if we give small businesses the funds to continue to operate under COVID restrictions and we make everything easier for everyone to adhere to the guidelines, it can make a big difference.

Apparently they’re close to getting a bill passed before the recess next Friday. If they do, great. Though looking at it, it’s not gonna be enough. We’ll have to do this all over again once Biden is inaugurated (in 46 days!) But at this point, we just need to get through the holidays.

My unemployment extension expires the day after Christmas, and so many others’ benefits will expire around the same time. After that, I won’t be living paycheck to paycheck or even UI payment to UI payment. There will be no money coming in at all and my savings will be completely depleted by the end of the year. Depending on the specifics of the bill, it might actually be too late to be any real help to me if there’s no additional extension involved.

I’ve been applying to jobs, both in and out of my field, but still have no bites. I have a couple of good leads, but even those wouldn’t be until mid-January, if they even pan out. So those first few weeks of the year are gonna be rough. 

And I have it better than most. I may not be close to my parents and they may not be in the best financial situation, but they have money to help if I absolutely need it. My sister’s door is always open should I find myself unable to pay rent anymore.

These are not ideal. I don’t want to give up my rent-controlled apartment. I don’t want to pack up my whole life and put it into storage. I don’t want to go take over my niece or nephew’s room for who knows how long. I definitely don’t want to move back to Arizona. And my parents don’t have an endless stream of money now that they’re both retired.

But at the end of the day I don’t have to worry about being homeless. I don’t have to worry about starving to death because I have people (both friends and family) who have been and will be there if things get dire. I’m lucky. In many ways I’m privileged. 

I’ve given so much money and time and energy to this election cycle and to supporting small businesses and those less fortunate than me. And the people in power? The people debating in Congress over a relief bill like it’s a political game? *cough*McConnell*cough* They’re the most lucky, the most privileged. What have they been doing? As long as they continue to not see their privilege for what it is and act to balance that privilege out, we’re all doomed. Also, just do your jobs. That’s literally all we’re asking.

Anyway, Happy Holidays! Make some cookies and listen to some holiday music and try to forget about this terrible year.

P.S. If you’re in a better financial situation this holiday season than I am, my Venmo and Cash app info is on my Contact page. I’m a proud and independent person, but 2020 has chipped away at that pretty effectively.

820

So… I stopped updating and a lot has happened since then.

On May 11, 2018 I started my dream job.

My “if this is all I ever do in the industry, it all will have been worth it” job.

My “everything else is just sprinkles on top” job.

820 days later, I left that job for the last time.

It’s been exactly two weeks and I am very definitely experiencing some ambiguous grief.

COVID-19 is filled with ambiguous loss. The promises of what could have been and the hope of what might be.

And the very real possibility that none of it will come to fruition.

I’ve spent most of the past two weeks in bed. I’m swimming through the Dead Sea trying to discover what’s on the other side.

I’ll let you know when I find it.

Until then, I’m so endlessly grateful to have been an official part of the Supernatural Family for 820 incredible days.

the end and the beginning

Tonight I walked out of the building I’ve worked in for the past 14 months, to the day.

That was the last time I would do that.

Friday morning I received an email asking me to come interview for a job later that day.

I interviewed. It went well.

I interviewed over the weekend with the boss. That went well.

I got the text this morning that I’d been approved on all levels by the team and the studio to come work for them. Starting tomorrow.

So I spent today rushing to get everything in order before I left. I felt good in the morning. I got there early; felt light, felt free.

But as is typical of me, I started to realize everything I’d be losing and I started to feel heavier. I would miss good friends that I wouldn’t be seeing every day. I would miss the comfort and familiarity.

But I’d gone as far as I could at that company and I’ve known for awhile it was time to move on.

So even though there were tears and even though it felt too quick, I’m ready for this next step.

This morning my job was at a boutique production company that largely produces media that I’m just not all that passionate about.

Tomorrow my job will be on a one hour drama with a female lead which is something I’m extremely passionate about.

Everyone’s been telling me my life is about to change. I’ve crossed a threshold. I’m in the circle.

They don’t need to tell me, I already know.

And I’m one hundred percent ready for it.

16 great shows: sweet/vicious (2016)

(Bitter Script Reader challenged their followers to make a list of 16 Great Shows that have influenced them as writers and viewers. This is my list.)

16

Words can’t express how important this show is.

But I’ll try anyway.

For years we’ve seen one-off episodes in existing shows try to tackle rape (usually on college campuses). The Newsroom, The Good Wife, and Veronica Mars to name a few. Arguably, Veronica Mars came closest to actually being a show about rape. Veronica spends a significant portion of the series searching for her rapist and later takes on the mantle of finding the campus rapist at Hearst College.

But never (in my memory) has there been a show that is first and foremost about rape culture.

And that’s how I explain Sweet/Vicious to everyone I meet: It’s a one hour dramedy about rape culture.

Usually people can’t reconcile dramedy and rape culture together because half of dramedy is comedy.

But it needed to be half comedy. It wouldn’t have worked otherwise. There needed to be heart at the center of it. It needed to have light moments to let the air out.

I always cite the Defying Gravity scene as the scene that defined the tone of the series. Some spoilers ahead, but honestly it only spoils the secondary plot which is established halfway through the pilot.

Ophelia and Jules have just accidentally killed a guy. He’s in the trunk. Ophelia turns her music on. The first song that comes on is a rap song about a body in the trunk or some such thing that hits too close to home. She quickly skips to the next song, which is Defying Gravity.

Now, Ophelia is a hacker pot head with green hair. Besides the green, there shouldn’t be any reason to think that she’s a Broadway fan, let alone a Wicked fan. But she knows the song. And she starts to mumble along to it.

These two young women barely know each other. Jules straight up derides Ophelia. But in that moment they find themselves bonding over belting out the lyrics to Defying Gravity.

And there you have it. Jules is still a rape survivor that is not handling her trauma in a healthy way and Ophelia is still someone that just accidentally killed a guy to save Jules’ life. These are dark themes.

But they don’t have to be. Not every moment of the show. And that’s what saves the premise. That’s what draws you in.

Beyond that it’s such an important show for everyone to watch. Rape survivors, women in general, men, mothers, fathers, teachers, everyone. Because you see how flawed the system is and how it is not set up to protect women, but rather to protect men and their reputation.

You see how the system is set up to tell men that they can rape women and not suffer any consequences. Particularly if you’re important to the college or business or community.

You see how men can blur the lines, even in their own minds, about what constitutes rape.

You see how men don’t understand the damage they’ve done and continue to do.

You see how even women perpetuate this cycle by questioning a rape survivor’s morals or motivations.

I’m one of the few lucky women that has never been sexually assaulted. But I have been harassed. I’ve felt unsafe. This show is for all of us. It’s a show that transcends entertainment (of which there is plenty to be found here) and moves into a space that is so much more important and relevant than we were ready for.

And because of that it was canceled.

And now we’re getting a new season of The Challenge.

This was another panel I was at in Austin. (Check out the video here.) Like the Complex Women panel, it was all women (and even in the same venue) and it was emotional. It was powerful. The women that made this show are so inspiring, but it’s important to note that they were in over their heads. No one knew if it was going to work. No one knew if rape survivors would embrace the show or reject it.

But the creators did so well at developing this show and they were all the right people for the job because they treated the subject matter with the care and respect it deserved. The internet built a community up around this show and even as I type this I think of Eliza Bennett (Jules) up on that stage crying to the point of blubbering because she was so touched by how much the show meant to rape survivors. She recalled how many of her friends came forward and told her they’d been raped. And she wondered why they hadn’t told her before.

But she also knew why. We all know why. There’s so much shame and stigma surrounding rape survivors in our society. And even if you do come forward, it’s a gamble on whether people will believe you. And your own character comes under fire. It’s a lot to take on, especially for someone who has just gone through a major trauma.

But maybe this show will serve as a catalyst for these kinds of conversations. For chipping away at the reasons women don’t come forward (either privately or publicly).

I hope Sweet/Vicious finds a home somewhere else. It looks like it’s a possibility. MTV was not the right network or studio for the show, so this could be a blessing in disguise. During the Sweet/Vicious panel Jenn Kaytin Robinson (creator/EP) stated that there’s so many more stories she wanted to do. Different kinds of rape survivors, different flaws in the system, different stigmas.

And at the core of the show you have this beautiful female friendship. One that doesn’t subsist on weekly drama and fighting over boys. They’re partners and they help each other. They try to push each other to be better. We need more female friendships like this on television and in life.

16 great shows: the good wife (2009)

(Bitter Script Reader challenged their followers to make a list of 16 Great Shows that have influenced them as writers and viewers. This is my list.)

15

I didn’t start watching The Good Wife until about 2013. It’s so rare that I would start a show in the middle of it while it’s still airing, but it was part of an assignment in my television writing class and I’m so glad it was. The Good Wife has somehow become a part of my bingeing rotation when I just need something to watch that I know will be good and satisfying.

And it is so satisfying. I don’t typically like procedurals unless there’s some kind of mythology or serialized season long arc, something driving the show. I burn out on shows like Bones and Castle, even with their high degree of relationship driven plot. At a certain point the cases become redundant.

Even with seven seasons this somehow never happened on The Good Wife. The cases always felt fresh and the twists came from out of nowhere.

It helped that the show had a strong cast of guest actors to pull from. From judges (Jeffrey Tambor, Ana Gasteyer, Denis O’Hare) to clients (Dylan Baker, John Benjamin Hickey, Mike Colter) to oppositional lawyers (Michael J. Fox, Rita Wilson, Carrie Preston) to Gary Cole there was always someone great to bring in and spice up an episode.

But just as important, The Good Wife had a solid foundation. It mixed the procedural and personal seamlessly and fairly equally. It didn’t hurt that the show had a strong female protagonist that was to varying degrees admirable, funny, steadfast, righteous, flawed, and just plain interesting.

Between the cases, the relationships, and the dynamic between the two this show has stood out amongst so many others in our current television climate. It’s a show I’m happy to watch over and over again and I still enjoy just as much (if not more) as I did the first time I watched.

This show doesn’t need a gimmick. It’s just good. And even among such juggernauts as Game of Thrones and The Walking Dead, that’s all The Good Wife needed to be. Great television and great writing that both entertains and makes you think.

I certainly hope to be able to blend the two in my future work and I hope more shows will be brave enough to follow suit.

 

 

16 great shows: queer as folk (2000)

(Bitter Script Reader challenged their followers to make a list of 16 Great Shows that have influenced them as writers and viewers. This is my list.)

14

I came to this show late. Like, really late.

If you remember from an earlier post, I touch a bit on how my love of Supernatural brought me to this show. In 2011 I was visiting a friend I’d met through the Supernatural fandom. While it was my Spring Break, it wasn’t hers, so when she was in class I was watching her box set of Queer as Folk.

Before that moment, I had barely any context for this show. I knew Hal Sparks as a talking head on VH1 and he always had Queer as Folk in his chyron. And through being in the online fandom sphere I’d seen pictures of Brian and Justin as avatars or memes, but again had no real context for it.

So when I saw this box set, I decided to give it a go.

If Jack’s story on Dawson’s Creek struck a chord in me, then this was a treasure trove of interesting characters that could pluck at my heartstrings for five seasons. Will & Grace might have been a game changer, but Queer as Folk was a revelation.

I know that conservatives think media is infecting our morality, but I see it as opening our eyes to the lives of other people. It’s infecting us with empathy.

I was at the Queer as Folk reunion at ATX Television Festival a couple of years ago (the same year Gilmore Girls had its reunion). One audience member asked the show creators why they think so many women (particularly straight women) watched their show. Ron’s answer was this:

“Even though we wrote the show thinking our audience was going to be gay, ultimately I was happier that women were watching the show. Because women have children. They either have children, or they’re going to have children. And I thought how very important it is for those children who are and who are yet to be to have mothers who may have seen Queer as Folk and understand what it is to be gay. So that they will be more sensitive and loving to their children and maybe we could have helped that along a bit.”

Never mind that I’m not sure I’m going to have children, but the heart of this statement remains true. The more people, straight or gay, who watch this show and others like it, the more empathetic our society will become.

Gay people aren’t to be feared. Sometimes they’re outside of the norm most straight conservatives are used to, but ultimately they’re not out to hurt anybody and they just want to love and be loved.

Queer as Folk showed us a huge variety of gay people, all of whom had layers and all of whom wanted different things.

With the recent announcement that Showtime is bringing back The L Word, my hope is that Showtime or Netflix or some other platform will bring Queer as Folk back as well.

Because when this reunion happened two years ago there was still work to be done and now that we’ve devolved so terrifyingly with our recent election, we need shows like this more than ever.

We need empathy more than ever and it looks like television is where it’s going to have to start.

16 great shows: community (2009)

(Bitter Script Reader challenged their followers to make a list of 16 Great Shows that have influenced them as writers and viewers. This is my list.)

13

What a wonderfully strange little show this is.

I was first introduced to Community during the summer between its first and second season. A friend of mine pushed me to check it out and suggested I start with the paintball episode. I did. And then I went back and binged the rest of it. I’ve been an avid fan since.

Community isn’t just hilarious, it’s earnest.

For a show that specializes in the ridiculous, Community had a lot of heart and wasn’t afraid to show it. It was also one of the most diverse casts on television at the time. In a way, it was a demonstration of how people from all kinds of backgrounds could find common ground and become…a community.

That’s what made it important, but what made it entertaining is something entirely different.

Community wasn’t afraid to try anything. Sometimes it didn’t work, most of the time it worked better than anyone could possibly expect. Community did social commentary better than anyone else. Mostly because half the time you didn’t even notice they were doing it.

This show taught me to allow myself to be ridiculous in my writing, if only to eventually be able to ground myself. It taught me that sincerity is nothing to shy away from.

Plus, this group of people is there for me whenever I need a pick me up. It’s one of the most heartwarming shows I’ve ever seen and also one of the funniest. I’m sad more people didn’t watch it, but I’m glad it got six seasons, which is nothing short of a miracle.

Now if only we can get that movie going….

 

16 great shows: the vampire diaries (2009)

(Bitter Script Reader challenged their followers to make a list of 16 Great Shows that have influenced them as writers and viewers. This is my list.)

12

I seriously debated putting this show on the list.

Not because I don’t like it. Not because I don’t think it’s great.

But when I think about the other shows on this list, they all taught me something pretty specific. I can point to something particularly special about that show.

But with The Vampire Diaries, it’s different.

I remember watching the pilot the night it aired. I was worn out on Twilight fever and so I tweeted something like “Watching The Vampire Diaries. Let’s see how much it sucks.”

But the thing is, it didn’t suck. Sure, some parts were a little clunky or saccharine. Elena’s diary entries irked me (they got better over time). But by and large it was a solid pilot. I didn’t know then that this show was from the same people that had brought me Dawson’s Creek (a fellow show on this list). I also didn’t know what a significant impact the show would have on me outside the narrative.

When I first decided I wanted to write for television, I was working on my degree in Portland. I knew I wouldn’t be able to move to LA for at least another year, so I started soaking up whatever information I could find. Podcasts, twitter, blogs, you name it, I found it.

At some point I read an interview Julie Plec (co-creator of The Vampire Diaries) gave about what a typical work day looks like for her. Here’s the part that spoke to me:

I realized the first thing that I needed to do was empower people to believe in and to own their own work. Instead of sitting down and saying, ‘I’ve got this’ or ‘I’ll fix it,’ [it’s more] like walking them down the path so that they could do it for themselves. It was an instantaneous shift. It was unbelievable. The writers that we were working with suddenly went from being, like, ‘All right. Here you go. I know you’re going to change everything’ to really taking ownership over their material and delivering some really fantastic material.

With that, when the writer owns their own words, then they’re going to fight harder in prep, and they’re going to defend it better on the set, and they are going to be more adaptive in understanding what they need in post. It’s just a trickle-down effect that starts taking the workload off of me and shifting it onto them.

I wanted to work in that environment. I wanted to be mentored and encouraged to grow and own my work. So I decided to twitter stalk Julie Plec.

It’s not as nefarious as it seems. I was already following her on Twitter. But then I started following her writers and actors and then her production crew. I didn’t go out of my way to interact with anyone, I just made sure they were in my timeline so I could connect with them organically.

Eventually it worked. I won’t go into details, but I befriended quite a few people that had worked with Julie Plec. They all had nothing but great things to say about her, of course. One friend even said, “There’s no two better people to learn from than Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec.”

That changed the course of my career trajectory. I’m not banking on Julie Plec to plot my career or pluck me out of obscurity. But two years into my time in L.A. and I know I’m more entrenched in the industry than most people I know that have been here for much longer.

And through this process I came to love The Vampire Diaries even more. It became a part of my story and I became a part of it in a way too. The show has such a great heart and soul to it. You can tell the cast and crew are like family. That’s the dream in this business. To love the people you work with every day. So it feels less like work and more like living.

The themes of grief and loneliness and being an outsider were all so powerful in this show. There were some really beautiful moments and such a variety of characters that you most certainly would find one to relate to. Mine’s Caroline. I don’t think I’ll ever really understand how much of an effect that character has had on me. Her character arc is so lovely and encouraging and it has helped me through some rough times. Just knowing that someone out there has felt what I’ve felt at times in my life is a huge comfort. Caroline may be fictional, but the people writing her are not.

And there was something so admiral about how the show handled Nina Dobrev’s departure. In all honesty, I felt Season 7 (the first season without Nina) was one of the best of the series. This isn’t to say the show is better without Nina. It wouldn’t be what it is without Nina. But instead of floundering for a new identity, the writers embraced the challenge and took advantage of these secondary characters that had been given complexity over the years, but never the spotlight. Other shows have had to deal with a lead actor leaving and none of them have handled it as well as The Vampire Diaries did. They even found a new way to incorporate diaries into the show as Elena’s friends started writing down everything that she was missing.

Speaking of, I’m going to miss this show. Though I do think it ended at the perfect time and with such a beautiful episode. I’ll still be watching The Originals (love me some Mikaelsons) and I’ll watch literally anything Julie Plec or Kevin Williamson put out there.

But there’s something about that first magical show about two brothers who just couldn’t let go of the past and the girl they both loved.

16 great shows: terminator: the sarah connor chronicles (2008)

(Bitter Script Reader challenged their followers to make a list of 16 Great Shows that have influenced them as writers and viewers. This is my list.)

11

It is so fucking fortuitous that today is the day I write this.

I’ve been writing one of these every day and in order of when I first discovered the show (for the record, I watched this live from the beginning), so this was not planned in any way, shape, or form.

For the past 30 minutes or so I’ve been eagerly consuming Josh Friedman’s tweets as they come in (you can bet I have him on notifications.) I’ve been doing this because he’s been telling a very important story about his fight to cast Thomas Dekker as John Connor in Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles.

Rewind to about six hours ago when Thomas Dekker (John Connor) came out as “a man who proudly loves other men” and revealed that “this April, [he] married [his] husband.”

I’m proud of Thomas and I’ve been a fan of his for a long time (since Heroes, at least). I thought he played the part of John Connor beautifully and I can’t imagine anyone else in that role.

But that’s not really the point I’m making here. The point is Josh Friedman, a straight, white, Gen X-er took time out of his evening to champion an actor he worked with nearly a decade ago. There are many reasons for this (and I don’t mean to shift credit from Dekker to Friedman), but primarily I’m interested in how this demonstrates how special this series really was.

This is a show that lasted a grand total of 31 episodes, and even those were hard won. What Josh Friedman and his team accomplished in those 31 episodes is breathtaking. Consider the sheer volume of complex characters and intersecting storylines all based on this fairly surface level film series from the 80s and 90s. Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles aimed to be high brow television on a low brow network.

At the time (and arguably even now), Fox was only a step above The CW (side note: I love the CW, but it doesn’t compare to HBO or Netflix). Let’s face it, there was a lot of junk on that network. I give Fox credit for giving unlikely shows a chance (*cough*Firefly*cough*), I just wish it had done more to help those shows succeed.

The point is, Josh Friedman dared to dream big but it ended up not being the right time. And it pains me that he hasn’t had a successful show since (I have high hopes for Snowpiercer, though). He deserves more than this, but because he speaks his mind and stands up for what’s right, he has a harder path in front of him. And I’ll stay loyal through it all.

Another reason Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles is on this list? I can trace my decision to write for television back to this show.

TSCC was the first show I wrote fan fiction for. I realized how much I loved writing and decided to take a short story writing class. Which led to pursuing a degree. Which led to finding a television writing class. Which took me right back to where I started and should have always been.

And what was so special about this show? What about it led me to write my own version of what I thought might happen in a third season?

At the core it was about family. It was a mother and son doing whatever they could to stay together.

It was about a son struggling to come to terms with his preordained identity. This played perfectly parallel to John’s coming of age story.

TSCC asked what is humanity? What is a soul? What makes Sarah more human than Cameron? And if she is more human, what makes her life more valuable than Cameron’s?

One of my favorite moments of the series comes in one of the final episodes. Slight spoilers here, but I’ll try to remain vague in case someone reading eventually decides to watch for the first time.

It’s a moment (in a hotel room, to give fans context) where we realize somewhere along the way John became John Connor. And in a similar fashion to his conception, the catalyst comes from the future. In that moment he has both accepted his fate and become his fate. But he’s doing it on his terms.

He’s making his fate.

Normally in these posts I don’t worry too much about spoilers. The shows are older. You had time to watch. The same is true of this show, but it’s such an under-appreciated show I’m hoping some of you reading this will give it a chance if you haven’t already. Some shows are fine to watch even if you know what happens. This isn’t one of those shows. It builds so beautifully that you need to experience it as purely as possible.

I didn’t even get to Sarah or Cameron, but there are really no words. Sarah’s a badass with a heart of gold and Cameron is possibly one of the most complex characters on television.

Just go watch this show already. And then convince a production company to produce more episodes. Because Josh Friedman certainly knows how to keep people wanting more.

 

 

 

 

16 great shows: battlestar galactica (2004)

(Bitter Script Reader challenged their followers to make a list of 16 Great Shows that have influenced them as writers and viewers. This is my list.)

10

Frack.

I cried, everyone. When I was at the ATX Television Festival last month I cried at three panels: Complex Women, Sweet/Vicious, and Battlestar Galactica.

The first two made sense. There were a lot of complex and personal emotions involved in those panels.

But Battlestar Galactica? I love the show, but never did I think it would make me cry to see the cast and creator back together again. I didn’t even last through the third introduction. I remember exactly when I started crying. When the moderator said, “The woman we wish was president….” And before he even said Mary’s name, I was in tears.

This was such a powerful show with such a special group of people. In a lot of ways it’s like Lost, though it didn’t experience such widespread success. It was a show that was on at the right time with the right people and the right content with great themes. It’s inimitable, just like Lost was.

From Starbuck’s gender swap to Six’s ever-changing characterization to the utter and sudden destruction of a whole race of people. From “So say we all” to “All of this has happened before and will happen again.” So much of this show was both forward thinking and timely. It was sci fi at its best–a commentary on our current social and political climate. And it did it with such panache.

So yeah, I cried. I cried at how much the cast obviously still loves each other. I cried when I realized Laura Roslin is my president. I cried when I thought of how much we need this show right now.

Because this has all happened before and it will all happen again.

So say we all.