“Can you speak about writing episode 2 of a new series after the pilot. (Whether it’s requested or just a craft exercise.) There’s no info anywhere!”

I’m not really surprised there’s no public info about this.

First, it’s not a question the average person needs an answer to. If a newbie is lucky enough to sell a pilot, they’ll be paired with an experienced showrunner who will know what to do.

If I were that showrunner, I’d simply ask the network or streamer what they wanted. That’s because each of their viewership bases consume content differently.

For example, networks drop their episodes one at a time. If you miss an episode, you might not be able to watch it until it re-runs or airs on their sister streamer. That could weeks or even months away.

Read more

It was for writers interested in creating a television pilot from whole cloth. The first step in the challenge was to come up with an idea for a show and write a logline.

The logline describes the show in one or two concise sentences. It tells you what the main conflict of the series is going to be, week after week. Loglines aren’t just selling tools. They also serve as a map for you, the writer. That way you’re not just writing any old shit. You’re telling a complete story.

I gave plenty of real world examples of effective loglines and also gave notes on dozens of loglines submitted by students.

One of the exercises I had them do was a little less conventional. Instead of writing a logline and going forward towards the story, I had them do the reverse. I asked them to read the story “The House on Witherspoon Street” from my book, A Paper Orchestra, and figure out what the logline would be if I adapted it into a TV show.

This exercise would be particularly helpful for writers adapting a show from source material.

I really thought this wouldn’t be that difficult, yet of the dozens and dozens of submissions I received, absolutely no one got it right!

Here are a handful of submissions, along with why they don’t work as loglines.

1. A failed creative writing student desperate to be seen finds a glimmer of hope in a local radio station copywriting job only to be pushed further into obscurity when his brief moment on air leaves him feeling more invisible than ever.

This describes the story if it were the pilot episode, but it doesn’t describe the tension of the show, week in and week out. What’s the series about on a bigger scale?

2. A struggling creative writing student is briefly seen as the writer he wants to be by a wealthy radio host, and learns that being believed in can cost more than rejection.

Again, this describes an episode, but not the show. Also, the idea that “being believed in can cost more than rejection is a real downer.” I don’t think I’d want to watch that show.

3. An insecure college student is so determined to be recognized for his writing that he eagerly accepts an unpaid copywriting job at an uninspiring radio station and then fails to see the real opportunity presented to him: kindness of a stranger.

Same note as above. Every week, the hero is not going to fail to see the kindness of a stranger. That would get old fast. Also, what are the stakes? Why should an audience care if an insecure college student fails to be recognized for his writing. Lot’s of people don’t get recognized for their writing. Big deal.

4. An aspiring young writer must help an aging socialite with her low rated radio show in order to advance his writing career.

Someone else thought the stakes were advancing his writing career. Again, that’s low stakes. Lots of people don’t succeed as writers. No one cares if the hero of the story joins their ranks.

5. When a Princeton College writing student chooses to intern at a dilapidated radio station his naive hubris allows him to be caught in an aging socialite’s web of delusion.

Tonally, this logline was way off. It sounded sinister. Like the show would be a thriller.

6. A failing student writer works as a weekly story hour host at an antiquated radio station funded widow with a loose grip on reality, where he must appease her by sculpting stories from her fantasy life and memories, that play out in her mind and on our screen, in order to keep her bank rolling the station in the old house on Witherspoon Street.

I give this logline points for being a full swing, but they took too much creative license. In other words, the pitch isn’t supported by the text. Also, the stakes are the fate of the radio station. That’s low stakes. Lots of radio stations go bankrupt and no one cares.

So what’s the answer? Here’s the logline that I would use if I were adapting The House on Witherspoon Street into a TV show.

Read more

I wanted to write and perform a collection of short stories similar to what David Sedaris does.

I told this to my wife and she responded, “Oh, okay. That’s a big undertaking.”

And it is. It would be three or four years of work before I even got out of the gate.

But I like big undertakings.

So I started writing these stories. I was about two years into it — the book hadn’t even come out yet — when I decided that I should start performing them. That way I could test how the stories play in front of audiences and rewrite them as necessary.

We found a local theater — great location, good price, etc — and I put a deposit down. As we’re driving away from the theater, I started to worry.

“What happens if I stage a show and no one comes?”

Then an even worse realization hit me.

“What happens if only three people show up? I’ve got a theater that sees 50. How sad would that look!”

A few days later, I announced my show on social media. Much to my relief, tickets started to sell. These were strangers on the internet, who had been following me for a few years, and wanted to see what I could do.

But a couple days into it, I started getting responses from people saying, “I’m so excited to see this show. I just bought my plane tickets!”

“Plane tickets?!? Whoa, whoa. No one said anything about booking plane tickets!”

Once again, I started to freak out. Even though I’m a successful writer and producer of TV shows, I’d never done this before. Here I was telling everyone about this great book I was writing, and no one, other than my wife, had even read it yet! And now I was performing it?!

I got in the tub, just to calm down.

Immediately, I got out of the tub and I ran to my wife. “Am I delusional?”

I meant it. I wasn’t being hyperbolic. I was dead serious.

“Am I having delusions? Do I need to see a doctor? Because this sounds crazy. “

And she responded, “Yes, you’re delusional. You’ve always been delusional. I mean, you moved out to Hollywood to become a TV writer. That’s a little crazy.”

“Yeah, but I made that decision when I was 22 years old. Kids do stupid shit all the time. I’m a grown ass man. I’m selling tickets to a show. Who the hell am I?!”

My wife, an actor I met on the set of Just Shoot Me years ago, directs my solo show. At this point, we’d been rehearsing every day, but we hadn’t yet done a run-through at the theater.

On our first run-through, Cynthia introduced me and I walked on stage very modestly. To me, that felt real and natural.

“Stop! Do it again!” she yelled.

I hadn’t even started yet, and I was doing it wrong?

“That’s not how you walk on stage,” she said. “When you walk on stage, you are a rockstar.”

“That’s great, but I’m not a rockstar. I’m an aging television writer.”

“Maybe so, but people are buying plane tickets to see a rockstar. They don’t want to see you, they want to see him. So pretend you’re a rockstar.”

When show night rolled around, sure enough, I walked on stage like a rockstar. The place went nuts and the show was a hit.

We’ve since performed A Paper Orchestra all across the country. This summer we performed seven sold out shows at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, and even took home a 2025 Edinburgh Fringe Award. And the book that the show is based on, has also won awards.

All of this success came from one moment — the moment I gave myself permission to be the person I wanted to be.

That’s a lot to get your head around.

I’ll say it again. You have to give yourself permission to be the person you want to be before you’re even that person. Then you can work backwards and do all the things a rockstar does in order to put on a great show.

Share

Leave a comment

Now your first question is… when can I go home?

The showrunner makes this decision and every showrunner does their job differently. I’ve written on 14 television shows during my 28 year career, and for the most part, this is how it usually goes:

Read more

The studio, the network, the director, the producer, the star…. everyone has an opinion on the script and believe me, they’re going to give it.

Sometimes the notes make the script better. Sometimes they make it worse. Either way, it’s common for writers to get defensive and resist taking them. Their instinct is to fight tooth and nail to protect their baby.

In my case, most of the time these notes are not coming from writers. The people giving them have no experience writing, and often have much experience working in Hollywood.

Frustrating, right?

Should you compromise your vision or should you push back? After all, if you take the notes, and the project bombs, your name is on it.

And doesn’t that reflect poorly on you?

Unfortunately, there’s a lot of reasons why you SHOULD take the notes. Here are just a few:

Read more

Ever time she did, it sucked all the energy off the page. And yet, it was easily fixed.

So what was this mistake?

She repeated information that the audience already knew.

Let me give you an example and how to fix it.

Read more

I think if you were to ask my co-workers, the majority would say they suffer from imposter syndrome. They’re just waiting for the inevitable day when Hollywood discovers who they really are and kicks them out.

Most of my colleagues don’t gloat when they sell a TV show. In fact, they don’t even want to talk about it, let alone brag.

That’s not false modesty. It’s fear. And I think this is healthy.

I think if you’re a writer who doesn’t feel some degree of imposter syndrome, there’s a high likelihood that you’re not looking at your work critically enough.

A story is like an analog watch. When you open it up, you can the gears turning. There’s a dozen of them. Some are spinning fast and some are barely moving, and yet somehow they all fit together and make the hands of the clock move.

A story works the same way. All this stuff is happening in the background. Gears are spinning, characters are making choices, events are unfolding and somehow it all fits together.

Crafting a story is hard work.

For the first eight or 10 years of my career, I was looking across at the other writers, sitting at the writer table and thinking I wasn’t nearly as good as them. I know some of them were thinking the same about me. It took years for me to get my legs.

A couple of years ago, I decided I was going to write a collection of stories, similar to what David Sedaris writes. I love his work, and wanted to write my version of what he does.

“How hard can it be?” I thought. “After all, I’m already a successful TV writer. I know what I’m doing, right?”

So I start writing these personal essays and I was pretty happy with them. I let then sit for a few months and then I read them with fresh eyes.

I was so disappointed with what I wrote.

They read like I was just doing a cheap knockoff of David Sedaris. I didn’t feel like an artist, I felt like an imitator — and not even a good one at that.

I came to realize that writing personal essays wasn’t my strong suit. They lacked the narrative structure that I employ when writing TV shows and movies.

Maybe I could take the thoughts in my head and express them as stories instead of essays.

But was I even allowed to do this? Was I allowed to write any differently than David Sedaris? After all, he’s the gold standard in this genre. He’s successful both critically and commercially.

Who was I to do it any differently?

And all of this was in my head. That’s imposter syndrome.

My book, A Paper Orchestra, was released in early 2024. and when you read the comments on Amazon, people love it.

No one wrote, “But it’s not David Sedaris!”

Read A Paper Orchestra

And now, as I write my next book, I’m worried that it won’t be as good as my first.

At the beginning of my career, I compared myself to other writers. Today, I’m comparing myself to me!

This is what artists struggle with every day. And if you struggle with this too, you’re in good company.

Share

Leave a comment

They assume that proves how much time and thought they’ve put into their show.

They assume that the more they’ve got everything figured out, the less doubt studios will have about their show?

Is this reasoning correct?

Read more

Someone asked me this question on Instagram, so I’m going to do a post (maybe even a series of posts) on how to properly market your book. If you’re an author or aspiring author, this one’s for you.

You could just go on Chat GPT and get a list of 10 ideas on how to promote your book. One of the ways they’ll recommend is signing up for these websites where you pay to promote your book to “get it in front of the right reader.”

It’s not good enough. Maybe you’ll sell some books, but you probably won’t cover your ad spend.

But platforms like Substack, TikTok, Instagram, Facebook, etc. can be very effective if you use them properly. Plus they’re completely free, so every copy you sell is profit.

How to properly market your book

When you talk about your book, you don’t want to tell people why they should WANT to read it.

Instead, you should convince readers that they NEED to read it.

The way you do this is not by talking to their head, it’s by talking to their heart. In other words, you have to use EMOTION.

Let’s say your book is about a guy who sails the world and gets shipwrecked on a deserted island. We’ve heard that plot a million times. Maybe you did a good job writing it, maybe it didn’t. Maybe I want to read it, maybe I don’t.

Regardless, telling people what it’s about hits people in the head, not in the heart.

You want to tell people what the book is really about, deep down.

Let’s use my book as an example, A Paper Orchestra.

It’s a collection of 17 true short stories from my life. Truthfully, my life isn’t that interesting. I didn’t escape from a cult. I didn’t survive a plane crash on the Andes. My life is pretty normal. It’s probably very much like yours.

You might be thinking, “You’re not exactly doing a great job at pitching your book.”

Correct. That’s because I’m talking about the plot. And talking about the plot doesn’t move the needle.

So let’s talk about what A Paper Orchestra is really about.

These are stories about love and heartbreak, shame and redemption, struggle and identity.

These are emotions that we have all felt.

If I were to follow you around for a year, spying on you, I’d learn your deepest, darkest secrets and fears. I could write stories about your life, changing only one detail — your name.

If I did this using the skills that I’ve acquired as a professional TV writer, I guarantee I could tell stories about your normal, ordinary life, that could move you to laughter and tears.

I could show you all the beauty in your life — beauty that you can’t see because you’re too close to it. And at the end of this book, you’d read it and you’d say, “Oh my God, I wish I were this character!”

And I’d say, “You are this character. I just changed the name. It’s you!”

Of course, I can’t follow you around for a year (not legally, at least) but I can follow myself around. And I’m willing to share my vulnerabilities, my secrets, my deepest, darkest fears because as a writer, that’s my job.

By writing this way, you will see yourself in my stories and YOU WILL FEEL SEEN and HEARD and UNDERSTOOD.

Read these comments from readers of A Paper Orchestra. None of these people are interested in Michael Jamin’s life. I’m not that important. They’re not complimenting the plot twists or unexpected turns in my book. They’re expressing how much they enjoyed feeling the underlying emotions in it.

They enjoyed the book because, even though the details were mine, the stories were THEIR’S.

This is how you market a book — by talking about the aspects of the book that speak to the reader personally.

It’s by showing them that they NEED to read it — that they will be transformed in some small way by having read it.

Every aspect of your marketing should speak to this — including your cover. Although people say, “You can’t judge a book by its cover” they do and they will. I spent a long time agonizing over the right cover, and I’m grateful that we finally found it.

It shows a pensive boy, sitting on a pile of words. He’s trying to make sense of these words, or at least figure out what to do with them.

Isn’t that how we all feel sometimes?

I hope this post helps you market your book.

And for those of you who want to feel what so many of my readers have felt, you can learn more about A Paper Orchestra below.

Read Now

Leave a comment

Subscribe now

At some point, we were all asked how we broke into the business. Because I’ve been in the business for 28 years, my origin story was very different from the younger writers.

I broke into the business the old fashioned way: I wrote a great script that got me an agent, and she was able to get my script into the hands of a showrunner hiring on a pilot.

(There’s actually more to that story, but for the sake of this article, that’ll suffice.)

The two youngest writers on the panel were actually a team. They got their foot in the door in a completely different way and it truly impressed me. I was taken not only by their creativity, but also by their initiative.

Unlike me, they didn’t put their fate into the hands of an agent. They did it themselves.

So what did they do?

Read more

I started publishing on Substack because teaching craft keeps me honest. It helps me crystalize my thoughts on writing, forcing me to tell stories the way they need to be told.

The tips I share here come directly from the job — advice I learned in the writers’ room, table reads that failed, drafts that didn’t survive, and notes that lead me astray. It’s practical advice because the job is practical.

But craft has never been my goal here.

I write about craft as part of the work, not the work itself.

The work itself is A Paper Orchestra. It’s my collection of personal essays — pieces about identity, shame, redemption and the moments of our lives that shape us most.

To be honest, I don’t want to be seen as a writing guru.

I want to be seen as an artist.

I share how I write stories. If you like my writing, maybe I can help you. If you don’t, then I probably can’t. That’s why I always advise people to read me first before listening to a word I say.

Sharing my writing tips does serve a purpose for me. It’s how many people find their way here. It’s the path up the mountain. The essays are the view from the top.

Some essays from A Paper Orchestra appear here as samples. The full collection is available in print, eBook, and audiobook because that’s how it’s meant to be consumed — complete, uninterrupted, and read as a body of work.

If you’re here for the writing tips, welcome. I’ll keep sharing what I’ve learned.

If you’re here for the essays, thank you for supporting me the way I hope to support you.

And if you’re here for both, you already understand what I’m trying to build.

-Michael

Leave a comment

Share

Thanks to our smartphones, all of us now hold both a movie studio and distributor in the palm of our hands.

With just a click of a button, our creative work can be uploaded to the cloud where it can be seen by millions of people in just a few hours.

For years, aspiring writers complained about getting past the Hollywood gatekeepers. And now that the gates are finally coming down, those same people are complaining that the market is flooded and it’s hard to stand out.

If there’s a lesson to be learned it’s this:

People gotta complain about something.

But there’s hope!

Look at the current crop of writers, actors and directors breaking into the business. Many of them are being “discovered” on social media. They’re creating content, it’s going viral, and they’re getting noticed. @Delaneyrowe is the latest one who’s caught my attention. She parodies romantic comedy cliches.

Yeah, but they’re TikTok famous and I don’t want that.

(See? I told you people gotta complain about something.)

Fine. Here’s another idea.

Read more

I’ve sold multi-camera shows, single camera shows and animated shows.

I’ve even sold two movies.

But there’s one idea I would never pitch, no matter how popular it might seem.

Read more

First, it’s important understand what a production facility is.

It’s a soundstage that a show or movie can rent for filming. It’s essentially a giant warehouse with soundproof walls and catwalks suspended from the ceiling where lights and other equipment can be hung.

Often the facility also offers post-production services like editing and mixing bays as well as production offices for producers, department heads, etc.

The reason why they’re popping up everywhere is because various states are now offering tax rebates than can greatly lower production costs.

But it’s critical to remember that a soundstage simply a rental space where projects are shot.

Read more

Maybe I’m wrong, because I once watched a TikTok where an elephant held a brush with its trunk and painted on a canvas.

But on the other hand, the painting was kinda shitty, so…

None of this is a …

Read more

My partner and I were the showrunners of one show that had particularly low budget. It was called Maron on IFC.

Before our first day of work, someone from the studio met me at the production office to hand me the keys and give me a tour. As we headed into the building, she started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” she replied. “But your budget is so low, none of us at the studio think you can actually make a show.”

A pit came to my stomach. This was my first time running a live action show, and I was afraid of failing.

“Can we at least get white boards for the writers’ room?”

It was a serious question. White boards are expensive and I didn’t want to pay for one out of pocket.

“Absolutely,” she replied. “We’ve got a storage room full of white boards. You can have as many as you want. It’s everything else you can’t have.”

Immediately, I was calmed. Whiteboards are what professional TV writers use to figure out the stories. As long as we had a whiteboard, I knew we’d be fine. We’d just focus on telling inexpensive, easy to shoot stories.

Honestly, it’s not that big of a deal.

Maron went for four seasons, was a critical darling, and was great for my career.

So how did we do it?

Read more

• Telling: “Freddie was nervous about meeting his boss for the first time.”

• Showing: “Freddie’s hands trembled as he smoothed his tie, cautiously sipping air as he glanced at his watch.”

Clearly, the second ex…

Read more

First, the good news:

If you aspire to work in TV, you don’t need to know what a pitch deck is.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Jamin, isn’t that a crucial document for selling a show?”

Yes, it is. A pitch deck is a visual document that a screenwriter creates to sell a television show to a studio or network. It can be a beautifully designed PDF or a PowerPoint presentation. It includes the logline, the premise, the characters, the world of the show, a synopsis of the pilot, and sometimes even a sample of future episodes. It's basically a brochure to sell your idea.

So why don't you need to know this?

Because no one is going to buy a show from someone with zero experience. And if you don’t know what a pitch deck is, that means YOU.

This isn’t about your talent; it’s about business. A single, low-budget pilot can cost a million dollars or more to shoot. A studio is not going to gamble that kind of money on someone with no track record or proof they can actually do it. It's a risk they are not willing to take.

This is where the sobering truth comes in: no one in this town wants to make your show. The reality is that studios, networks, and producers already have their own ideas they want to make. Instead of buying your show, they want to hire you to write their show. And in order to do that, they need to know that you’re a great writer.

So before you conceive of a pitch deck, what do you really need?

Read more

On Monday, December 8 the price goes up to $197.

Enroll Now

Who is this for?

• Aspiring comedy writers

• Drama writers who want to infuse a little humor into their work

• Public speakers

• Anyone with a newsletter, blog, Substack or pulse.

There’s a way to use humor so that it doesn’t come off as “jokey” or “c…

Read more

Read more