Interview With Bill
Fitzhugh
Interview by Jenna Glatzer
Bill Fitzhugh was
born and raised in Jackson, Mississippi. His writing career began in high school
where he wrote and narrated radio shows. He continued writing, producing, and
performing in syndicated radio programs for several years, eventually
collaborating with Matt Hansen, a writer-producer for an advertising agency near
Fitzhugh's college (the University of Washington in Seattle). The duo moved to
Los Angeles to try to find work in television. After some success, they decided
it was time to take on the film world. Despite numerous rejections, Bill knew he
had a terrific story, and turned his first screenplay, Pest Control, into a
novel. It sold, and so did the film rights. He went on to publish two more
well-received novels, selling film rights for the second (Cross Dressing) to
Universal for director Tom Shadyac.
What led you to move to Los Angeles in 1988?
I moved here from Seattle to write sitcoms. A woman I knew from Seattle had
returned to Los Angeles (her original home) and started a paralegal business of
sorts, primarily summarizing depositions. She wanted to return to Seattle and I
wanted to move to Los Angeles so we traded apartments and I took over running
the paralegal biz. The work was strictly freelance––in other words, the work
wasn’t steady. Between depositions, I would work on sitcom scripts and making
contacts.
How did you get your first television writing job?
My friend, Gary Grubbs, hooked me up. He’s an actor who moved here from
Mississippi in the '70s. A friend of his, Sam Haskell, was an agent at William
Morris. I gave Gary a Roseanne script I had co-written with Matt Hansen.
Gary gave the script to Sam (who represented Carsey-Werner Productions) and Sam
gave it to someone at CW. One day (8/23/89), I got a call from Linda Parker at
Michael Leeson’s office. Leeson was developing a show for NBC called Grand.
We got called in for a meeting with Leeson and Carol Gary on August 30. We hit
it off. They told us what they were doing and the sort of stories they wanted.
It was to be a standard, episodic sitcom. Matt and I left to brainstorm. We came
up with a dozen ideas for episodes and went in to pitch a week later. Leeson and
his cohorts––Carol Gary and Frank Mula (who went on to be a writer on The
Simpsons)––seized on one of the ideas (a story we called Divorce)
and the pitch meeting turned into a story meeting. It lasted about five hours.
When we were finished they sent us off to write the story (not the script, which
would be the next phase). So we wrote it just as we had worked it out in the
meeting. We submitted it and waited––doing our best not to start spending
the money we were about to start making as writers on a network sitcom.
Michael Leeson called on September 18, to say we were being "cut off at
story," which meant we were screwed. Turned out they had decided to make
the show into a soap opera-ish affair with most of the story lines being left as
cliffhangers at the end of each episode (instead of the standard episodic sitcom
where story lines are resolved at the end of each episode). For some reason, I
guess they decided we wouldn’t be able to write cliffhanger endings instead of
neatly wrapped up endings. So much for our big staff writing positions.
About 10 months later, we got our first job on a short-lived Fox comedy (not a
sitcom, not much of anything, really) called Haywire. Four weeks after
that, Norman Lear hired us away at twice the salary to work on a show. Four
weeks later, the show was canceled and the Fox people wouldn’t rehire us since
we had left them for mere money. Hiring season was over and we were reduced to
waiting for more depositions.
Describe a typical pitch meeting.
BF: I’ll describe the ones I’ve been on––I don’t know if they’re
typical, but they probably are. For a sitcom or an hour drama, you go in with a
bunch of story ideas (six to twelve or so). After all the kissy-face preliminary
stuff, you start pitching. The show runner and an assistant listen, respond, and
brainstorm with you. Sometimes they recognize a story they’re already working
on or have considered and dismissed, and cut you off with "Next." You
pitch all your ideas and hope for the best.
When you’re pitching a film idea, it’s different. You’re usually pitching
a single story. I don’t think I’m very good at pitching. Certainly my track
record for pitching (0 for 89 or so it seems) indicates I suck at it.
At any rate, you go in and do the kissy-kissy preliminaries, then settle in to
pitch your movie idea. There’s some give and take and then you’re done. You
leave and eventually find out they passed on the idea, i.e., they decide
they’re not buying it, not "passed on" like they sent it to someone
higher up the food chain for consideration. You read about studios buying
pitches all the time but in general, it’s not a good use of time.
You’re better off writing the script for various reasons.
How do you work with your writing partner, Matt Hansen?
Do you take turns writing and brainstorming, or is one more the "idea"
person and the other more of a "research" person, etc.?
Usually, when we work together, we’re in the same room the entire time,
whether it's writing a sitcom spec script or a screenplay. We spend days
brainstorming the story and characters. Then we take turns at the keyboard.
I’ll write my version of a scene, then he’ll sit down and take a whack at
it, and then I’ll take over again and fix all of Matt’s stupid ideas.
Eventually, we have a complete draft. Each of us reads it and makes notes. We
talk about changes for the next draft then sit down and rewrite. We’ll do
several drafts before we think we’ve got something good enough to show. I’d
say the work was usually split evenly.
Your screenplay, Pest Control, was optioned
almost ten years ago, but didn't make it through the studios. What made you
decide to turn it into a novel?
I read a story in the Los Angeles Times Sunday Magazine about a guy who
had written a screenplay he knew was a good story but that no one would buy. So
he adapted it into a novel and sold the film and publishing rights. I decided to
try it with Pest Control because I knew it was a good story.
Over 130 agents rejected the novel. Did you lose faith
at this point?
I’ve lost faith at many points, and that was certainly one of them.
Tell me what the brilliant and handsome Jimmy Vines did
for Pest Control.
After the 130 agents rejected me (we always think of it as ourselves being
rejected, not our writing), after all that rejection, J.V. called me and said it
was the funniest thing he’d ever read and I had to let him represent me. I
accepted his invitation. He submitted the manuscript to the major publishers and
they all rejected him. Jimmy was telling me this and continued by saying,
"But don’t worry, I’m going to sell this." Now most agents, when
faced with that much rejection, just tell you to write something else. But not
J.V. He kept trying to sell it. He eventually got it to the beautiful and
brilliant Claudia Citkovitz who was working in the NY office of Spring Creek
Productions (Paula Weinstein’s production company at Warner Bros.). Claudia
loved it, gave it to her boss, Len Amato, who also loved it. He sent it to Los
Angeles with the recommendation that they buy it. And they did.
What did you do first when you found out Spring Creek
Productions and Warner Bros. wanted to buy the film rights?
When J.V. called to tell me Spring Creek was sniffing around Pest Control,
I assumed it was more Hollywood bullshit. Besides, that very morning, I had been
hired to rewrite seven episodes of a show called Madison’s Adventures
at $1,000 per episode. This was real money I knew I would be paid, so I didn’t
pay much attention to this notion of a big film sale. Later that day, Warner
Bros. bought Pest Control for Spring Creek. But I didn’t really believe
it until the next day when I read about it in Variety.
What's happened to it since then?
They’ve had at least half a dozen writers work on a screenplay. As far as I
know, Spring Creek is trying to find a director or a star to "attach"
to the script so they can take it to the studio and get a budget and a
"green light." But with the impending writers' and actors' strikes,
everything’s been thrown into a cocked hat. I have no idea what’s going on
over there. ...
You went on to publish two more novels, both critically
acclaimed, and sold the film rights for Cross Dressing to Universal. Was
it a much easier process to sell and market these works, since you'd already
gotten good response from your first?
Yes and no. My publisher at the time, Avon Books, had an option on my second
novel, but that was no guarantee they were going to buy it. But they did. My
film agents (at the time, United Talent Agency) were unable to sell the film
rights to The Organ Grinders, which just goes to show the studios don’t
automatically buy everything you turn in just because you made one big sale.
After The Organ Grinders, I submitted two novel proposals to my editor
(Tom Dupree). He came back with an offer for a four-book deal. I took it. The
first of those four books was Cross Dressing, which Howie Sanders and
Richard Green (at United Talent Agency) sold to Shady Acres Entertainment at
Universal.
I’m not sure this answers your question though. I don’t really do the
"sales and marketing" of my books. And besides, there are a couple of
different levels of sales––there’s me trying to sell my book (or my book
proposal) to my publisher. Then there’s trying to sell the film rights to
studios (which my agents do). Then my publisher has to try to market and sell
the book to the public (which is my publisher’s job). I suppose it’s a
little easier for everyone to sell books after Pest Control, because to
some extent, they’re selling a known commodity as opposed to an unknown.
Is your heart in novels, screenplays, or both?
My heart is in writing. I’m not particular about the form it takes. I’d
still love to be on a good sitcom staff. But I find novels easier to write than
screenplays if for no other reason than novels don’t have as many
restrictions. I’m working on one of each at the moment. The novel (the third
in the four-book deal) is currently untitled, but, like Pest Control and Cross
Dressing, is based on a story Matt Hansen and I wrote as a screenplay. I’m
working on the new screenplay with the beautiful and hysterical Jill Conner
Browne. We’re adapting Jill’s two books (The Sweet Potato Queen’s Book
of Love and God Save the Sweet Potato Queens). We’re very early in
the process, since Jill’s on tour, but we’ll be getting serious about it
soon. I hope.
What are your favorite and least favorite parts of your
job?
My favorite part is when I finally get something right. The description of a
character, a punch line to a set up, a scene, whatever. My least favorite part
is when it seems certain that I will never again get anything right.
What does your wife think of your career?
I think she’s just tickled pink that I’ve got a job. Actually, she’s very
happy with my success after watching me struggle for so long. She’s glad that
I’m doing what I love and that I’m receiving some recognition. She calls me
the king of lumpy income.
What's one thing you wish you'd learned earlier about
the business of writing?
I don’t know if there is any one thing that would have mattered by itself. I
think the value lies in the cumulative effect of everything I’ve learned and
experienced. I think I must have known the one thing that really mattered, viz.,
you must persist.
Anything else you'd like to add?
Yes. Without my wife, I almost certainly wouldn’t be doing this interview. I
was one of a million people in Los Angeles flailing about, trying to get into
show business, and I seemed to be going nowhere. She gave me great support
during the many dark hours writers have. And when I said I was thinking about
turning Pest Control into a novel, she said she thought it was a great
idea. (Keep in mind, she wasn’t my wife at the time. She did this because
she’s so sweet.) Since I was broke, she paid my tuition to attend a novel
writing class at UCLA Extension. I got some great feedback in the class and
enough encouragement to finish the book, find an agent, and keep writing.
To find out more about Bill's work, visit his fantastically entertaining
website at www.billfitzhugh.com.
