MONSTERS is streaming on Amazon Prime. For those who care, here’s the story behind my episode, “Glim-Glim.”
For years, Tom Allen was a phone friend. I had a number of them. People I saw only rarely – or, like Ed Gorman, never saw – but with whom I had regular conversations about writing, reading, politics, families, life in general. Tom and I started our phone friendship one Friday night in 1987 when I was working late at my office. Tom was a story editor with Laurel Entertainment, George Romero's company. My previous contacts with him had been brief conversations about the annual editor publisher receptions which I had been running for SFWA, when I'd invite the Laurel crew to stop by for a drink.
Tonight Tom was calling because he'd just read THE TOUCH and wanted to tell me how much he liked it. Here, obviously, was a man of great taste and discrimination.
During the ensuing months we had many late Friday phone conversations about books and authors we liked and didn't like (although Tom seemed to be able to find something of value in everyone), deciding who was overrated and who was under- appreciated. I was continually and increasingly amazed at the depth and breadth of his knowledge of the sf/fantasy/horror field, and his genuine affection for it. As story editor for Tales from the Darkside, part of his job was combing the old magazines and anthologies for stories with adaptation potential. But this man had read everything.
In the spring of 1988 he asked me to drop by the Laurel offices on Broadway for a meeting. There I finally met the voice on the phone and found that Tom Allen looked about as he sounded – a big, gentle fellow with an easy smile. The upshot of the meeting was that Tom and the others at Laurel wanted me to do something for Monsters, the new half hour syndicated show Laurel was preparing for the coming fall season. The guidelines were simple but strict: one or two lead characters, one to three supporting characters, one monster; one or two interior locations, no exteriors; three scenes with a 5-8-8 minute breakdown.
I told Tom I'd try. The challenge of all those restrictions intrigued me. I like to believe that I can write under any circumstances, that no set of preconditions can keep me from telling a story. Trouble was, none of my old stories had a monster in it except for "Faces," and that was much too strong for TV. So I'd have to come up with something new. For years I'd been kicking around an idea for a sci-fi/monster story but never had the impetus to put it down on paper. Now I did. I sat myself down on a Thursday night, wrote out just enough to fill one single spaced sheet, and sent the precis of "Glim-Glim" to Laurel on Friday morning.
Tom called a week later: they loved it. He had a few suggestions for some logistical and structural changes within the story to make it hew closer to the guidelines – nothing that changed the story itself, nothing I couldn't live with. But on March 7, before we could make the deal official, the Writers Guild of America went on strike.
I have decidedly mixed feelings about the WGA. It has all the inherent weaknesses and abuses of that most repressive form of union, the closed shop – if you don't belong to WGA, you can't sell a script. But to be fair, it put an end to many of the ugly abuses inflicted by the movie moguls and their underbosses upon writers in the bad old days. I'm a member now (I had to join if I wanted to see "Glim-Glim" produced) but what infuriated me then was that during the strike Tom could not discuss anything about "Glim-Glim" with me. Nothing. I wasn't a member of WGA but somehow I was on strike too. For five months.
But they couldn't stop me from writing. I didn't have a contract but I knew Laurel wanted the script. To maximize the impact of the story's seasonal hook, "Glim-Glim" had to play in December, yet it was already July. I figured I'd better have it ready to go as soon as the strike was over.
I started it on a Thursday and had it finished by the following Sunday night. If scripting it today, I'd give far fewer camera directions, but back then I saw every shot in my head and put it on paper.
By early August the strike was over. Soon I had a contract and was duking it out with Laurel about a third set. I wanted the penultimate scene to play out on the front steps of the library during a gentle snowfall.
No exteriors, they told me.
I explained that all you needed was a brick wall, a pair of doors, a set of steps, and some guy shaking snowflakes from the rafters.
But that makes three sets, they said. You're only allotted two. The budget won't allow more.
I felt like I was butting my head against the brick wall I wanted them to build.
So I moved the scene inside the library.
But all in all my experience with Laurel was a good one. I might even say excellent. The producers there actually read books and have great respect for writers and the written word. The director checked with me every time he wanted to change a word or two of dialogue or to shift the focus of a scene – light years away from my experience with the filming of The Keep.
Due to the strike, "Glim-Glim" didn't run in December as originally planned. It first aired the week of January 30, 1989.
What do I think of the production? Well… Jenna von Oy and Mark Hofmaier are very good as Amy and her father, but Mark Fitzpatrick – wow. As Carl, he not only chews the scenery but digests and excretes it. And Glim-Glim is pathetic…looks like a skinned avocado. That said, while I admit it’s a maudlin story, my SF theme about finding ways to communicate with another species landed with the emotional punch I’d intended, so I’m not bitching.
My only real regret is that Tom Allen never saw "Glim-Glim." He died suddenly on September 30, 1988. I miss his warmth and wisdom and quiet intelligence. I miss talking to him on Friday nights.
Thanks to Amazon Prime "Glim-Glim" is available on demand. And "Glim-Glim" was, is, and always will be dedicated to the man who nudged me into writing it.
For years, Tom Allen was a phone friend. I had a number of them. People I saw only rarely – or, like Ed Gorman, never saw – but with whom I had regular conversations about writing, reading, politics, families, life in general. Tom and I started our phone friendship one Friday night in 1987 when I was working late at my office. Tom was a story editor with Laurel Entertainment, George Romero's company. My previous contacts with him had been brief conversations about the annual editor publisher receptions which I had been running for SFWA, when I'd invite the Laurel crew to stop by for a drink.
Tonight Tom was calling because he'd just read THE TOUCH and wanted to tell me how much he liked it. Here, obviously, was a man of great taste and discrimination.
During the ensuing months we had many late Friday phone conversations about books and authors we liked and didn't like (although Tom seemed to be able to find something of value in everyone), deciding who was overrated and who was under- appreciated. I was continually and increasingly amazed at the depth and breadth of his knowledge of the sf/fantasy/horror field, and his genuine affection for it. As story editor for Tales from the Darkside, part of his job was combing the old magazines and anthologies for stories with adaptation potential. But this man had read everything.
In the spring of 1988 he asked me to drop by the Laurel offices on Broadway for a meeting. There I finally met the voice on the phone and found that Tom Allen looked about as he sounded – a big, gentle fellow with an easy smile. The upshot of the meeting was that Tom and the others at Laurel wanted me to do something for Monsters, the new half hour syndicated show Laurel was preparing for the coming fall season. The guidelines were simple but strict: one or two lead characters, one to three supporting characters, one monster; one or two interior locations, no exteriors; three scenes with a 5-8-8 minute breakdown.
I told Tom I'd try. The challenge of all those restrictions intrigued me. I like to believe that I can write under any circumstances, that no set of preconditions can keep me from telling a story. Trouble was, none of my old stories had a monster in it except for "Faces," and that was much too strong for TV. So I'd have to come up with something new. For years I'd been kicking around an idea for a sci-fi/monster story but never had the impetus to put it down on paper. Now I did. I sat myself down on a Thursday night, wrote out just enough to fill one single spaced sheet, and sent the precis of "Glim-Glim" to Laurel on Friday morning.
Tom called a week later: they loved it. He had a few suggestions for some logistical and structural changes within the story to make it hew closer to the guidelines – nothing that changed the story itself, nothing I couldn't live with. But on March 7, before we could make the deal official, the Writers Guild of America went on strike.
I have decidedly mixed feelings about the WGA. It has all the inherent weaknesses and abuses of that most repressive form of union, the closed shop – if you don't belong to WGA, you can't sell a script. But to be fair, it put an end to many of the ugly abuses inflicted by the movie moguls and their underbosses upon writers in the bad old days. I'm a member now (I had to join if I wanted to see "Glim-Glim" produced) but what infuriated me then was that during the strike Tom could not discuss anything about "Glim-Glim" with me. Nothing. I wasn't a member of WGA but somehow I was on strike too. For five months.
But they couldn't stop me from writing. I didn't have a contract but I knew Laurel wanted the script. To maximize the impact of the story's seasonal hook, "Glim-Glim" had to play in December, yet it was already July. I figured I'd better have it ready to go as soon as the strike was over.
I started it on a Thursday and had it finished by the following Sunday night. If scripting it today, I'd give far fewer camera directions, but back then I saw every shot in my head and put it on paper.
By early August the strike was over. Soon I had a contract and was duking it out with Laurel about a third set. I wanted the penultimate scene to play out on the front steps of the library during a gentle snowfall.
No exteriors, they told me.
I explained that all you needed was a brick wall, a pair of doors, a set of steps, and some guy shaking snowflakes from the rafters.
But that makes three sets, they said. You're only allotted two. The budget won't allow more.
I felt like I was butting my head against the brick wall I wanted them to build.
So I moved the scene inside the library.
But all in all my experience with Laurel was a good one. I might even say excellent. The producers there actually read books and have great respect for writers and the written word. The director checked with me every time he wanted to change a word or two of dialogue or to shift the focus of a scene – light years away from my experience with the filming of The Keep.
Due to the strike, "Glim-Glim" didn't run in December as originally planned. It first aired the week of January 30, 1989.
What do I think of the production? Well… Jenna von Oy and Mark Hofmaier are very good as Amy and her father, but Mark Fitzpatrick – wow. As Carl, he not only chews the scenery but digests and excretes it. And Glim-Glim is pathetic…looks like a skinned avocado. That said, while I admit it’s a maudlin story, my SF theme about finding ways to communicate with another species landed with the emotional punch I’d intended, so I’m not bitching.
My only real regret is that Tom Allen never saw "Glim-Glim." He died suddenly on September 30, 1988. I miss his warmth and wisdom and quiet intelligence. I miss talking to him on Friday nights.
Thanks to Amazon Prime "Glim-Glim" is available on demand. And "Glim-Glim" was, is, and always will be dedicated to the man who nudged me into writing it.
This post was last modified: 02-01-2018, 05:16 PM by fpw.
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