do you trust me.
Cut because it was supposed to be two words and then I--um. Pulled a Sorkin. Ha.
AN OPEN LETTER TO AARON SORKIN
Dear Aaron,
Hi, man. How are you? I've missed you. Watching Sports Night on DVD just isn't the same, you know? I missed the growth and change you experienced with West Wing (and I missed Tommy, I'll admit it).
I'm so happy you're back. I'm so happy you live on my TV again.
Except, you know, you don't. You don't live on TV. You write for TV.
I'm so happy you're writing for TV again. I missed your characters and your words--I missed the stuff that I've heard fifteen times and I despaired of hearing new things ever again.
I missed the people you created who were real people. Stupid, flawed, inspired, friends, enemies, families. I missed your ability to draw human beings who seem just a little too much to live in the real world. I missed the way you let them be who they were and let them tell the story for you.
Honestly, Aaron, I'm still missing that. I was missing it for a while, your last seasons on West Wing. I'm missing it now, two weeks into Studio 60.
'Cause here's thing, man, this is what I'm saying: we can tell when you're not listening to your characters. We can tell when you're not writing them. We can tell when you're putting your own words in their mouths. We can tell when you've pulled up a rant you wrote five years ago or three years ago and copy-pasted it into the script.
Yeah, there's a long tradition of theatre as soapbox. Sadly, it's not a tradition whose time on network television has come. I want your people on my TV, not your people launching into yet another recycled soliloquy about those nasty folks at TWOP (I was one of them, by the way, except I was defending you) or how sucky reality TV was when Survivor was still in charge.
Please, don't be shocked that we've noticed. Please, don't get defensive. We love you. We only want the best that you can give.
So, basically, stop it. Stop it. Don't do it anymore. It's not that hard; you don't need rehab to learn how to write again.
You can't say that people who watch TV are just as smart as the people who make TV and then treat us like imbeciles.
(Also, you better not keep on lumping your online fans in with your online critics, or you're going to end up with an enormous imbalance towards the latter. Trust me on this one. Internet people are fickle and cruel.)
I've missed you, man. It would suck if I started regretting that.
LOVE,
me
PS: Would you let Mark McKinney fucking write, okay? I miss him too. God, he's not going to steal your testicles or something. Relax.
---
Um. Yeah.
Why did it become forty degrees in the last hour? Why?
Also, my throat hurts.
Bye.
AN OPEN LETTER TO AARON SORKIN
Dear Aaron,
Hi, man. How are you? I've missed you. Watching Sports Night on DVD just isn't the same, you know? I missed the growth and change you experienced with West Wing (and I missed Tommy, I'll admit it).
I'm so happy you're back. I'm so happy you live on my TV again.
Except, you know, you don't. You don't live on TV. You write for TV.
I'm so happy you're writing for TV again. I missed your characters and your words--I missed the stuff that I've heard fifteen times and I despaired of hearing new things ever again.
I missed the people you created who were real people. Stupid, flawed, inspired, friends, enemies, families. I missed your ability to draw human beings who seem just a little too much to live in the real world. I missed the way you let them be who they were and let them tell the story for you.
Honestly, Aaron, I'm still missing that. I was missing it for a while, your last seasons on West Wing. I'm missing it now, two weeks into Studio 60.
'Cause here's thing, man, this is what I'm saying: we can tell when you're not listening to your characters. We can tell when you're not writing them. We can tell when you're putting your own words in their mouths. We can tell when you've pulled up a rant you wrote five years ago or three years ago and copy-pasted it into the script.
Yeah, there's a long tradition of theatre as soapbox. Sadly, it's not a tradition whose time on network television has come. I want your people on my TV, not your people launching into yet another recycled soliloquy about those nasty folks at TWOP (I was one of them, by the way, except I was defending you) or how sucky reality TV was when Survivor was still in charge.
Please, don't be shocked that we've noticed. Please, don't get defensive. We love you. We only want the best that you can give.
So, basically, stop it. Stop it. Don't do it anymore. It's not that hard; you don't need rehab to learn how to write again.
You can't say that people who watch TV are just as smart as the people who make TV and then treat us like imbeciles.
(Also, you better not keep on lumping your online fans in with your online critics, or you're going to end up with an enormous imbalance towards the latter. Trust me on this one. Internet people are fickle and cruel.)
I've missed you, man. It would suck if I started regretting that.
LOVE,
me
PS: Would you let Mark McKinney fucking write, okay? I miss him too. God, he's not going to steal your testicles or something. Relax.
---
Um. Yeah.
Why did it become forty degrees in the last hour? Why?
Also, my throat hurts.
Bye.