Adventures In Writing: The Web Series.

In the years preceding my first PC -- a then top of the line 386SX from CompUSA -- I spent the bulk of my time writing and drawing with the hopes of one day becoming a successful writer, comic book artist, or animator. I also wanted to be veterinarian, but that's unsurprisingly a much more difficult task to hone when you're ten years old. After I got hooked on computers and later what would become the Internet, most of my hobbies and ultimately my childhood dreams took a backseat. I stopped drawing almost entirely and the endless short stories I was writing years earlier turned into sporadic and regrettable contributions to the burgeoning e-zine scene. Seriously, a lot of that stuff was pretty terrible, something anyone that picked up a copy of the Rebel Alliance Special Edition CD can attest to. And while I briefly came to my senses and attempted to do service to my former self by eventually enrolling in college as a journalism major, it was not to be; a half a semester later, I grudgingly returned to the cold and steely embrace of computers. For years I didn't write anything I wasn't forced to write.

It wasn't until I was laid off from my help desk position at a publishing company that I decided to take another look at writing. Apparently all I needed was some free time, and now I had an abundance of it. My unemployment lasted a staggering eight months, and it was during that time that I discovered E/N sites (or blogs back before they were called blogs -- I'm still not sure which term is worse) and eventually started my own as a way to not only pass the time, but share my oft drunken and occasionally funny bullshit with a rapidly expanding audience. But by now, even while unemployed, I had resigned myself to a unfulfilling yet potentially lucrative life of technology. The time I had set aside for writing once again waned as the IT industry exploded and I did what I needed to do to keep myself at the forefront so that I could continue to afford alcohol. The computers won again.

Flash forward to the present. At this point, I've been in the industry for just over ten years, and while it's steady, relatively easy work, I hate it. If I had a soul, it would be taking a beating for forty hours a week. So it was recently that I decided enough was enough; I need to stop fucking around and make time to write, good or bad, because that's what I enjoy doing. Even if it's too late to turn it into a career -- and it certainly looks that way these days -- I would take the time that I spend watching trashy reality television or playing Xbox and instead write. I re-registered for school in order to eventually get a degree in English, got myself a library card for the first time in over twenty years, and started carrying around the digital voice recorder I received for Christmas years ago so that I could note the ideas that I get throughout the day before my stupid brain forgets them forever. I even started replying to ads on Craigslist, submitting writing samples to people looking for content writers, product reviewers, screenwriters, etc. And it was there that I stumbled the characters behind this story.

One of the ads I replied to called for a comedy writer; someone who could write very short scripts for very little money. The scripts were for a web based comedy that had already "aired" two episodes, both of which I watched before submitting anything. And while I wasn't all that impressed by what I saw, I thought there was definitely potential for some laughs. That and the show took place in an office, and it just so happened that I had written a script for a half hour comedy based in an office years before that (and years before "The Office," so LAY OFF) and figured I could just recycle all of my old jokes and rack up some writing credits in the process.

I sent the series producer my short story "Shit Luck" as a writing sample and quickly received a note back that he loved it, so much so that he had already shared it with his girlfriend. He asked me to meet him at a Dunkin' Donuts in Kensington that Sunday afternoon so that we could exchange ideas and donuts.

Once I got to the Dunkin' Donuts, I spotted a very obvious (given the usual clientele a Dunkin' Donuts in Kensington, Philadelphia caters to) chubby younger guy sitting down at a table alone with a stack of notepads. I ordered a couple of donuts -- an apple crumb and a boston kreme are essential -- and a coffee before making sure I had the right guy and joining him. Much to my surprise, he told me that we were waiting on the arrival of another writer. And then I was told that there was originally supposed to be yet another writer joining us, but something popped up and she wouldn't be able to make it. This was all news to me at this point.

So, including the series producer, that meant there were now four people to contribute to these three minute scripts. That's less than one joke per minute for each person! On one hand, that's kind of really ridiculous. But on the other hand, with my unseen half-hour pilot, I had enough jokes to ensure I would never have to write another one for this web series, even if it somehow managed to soldier on for years -- an eternity in Internet time.

Ten minutes or so later, the other writer that we were expecting finally joined us. He looked a bit older and balder than me, and was wearing some sort of obnoxious pro-marijuana legalization t-shirt on under a ratty flannel. The guy seemed inoffensive enough despite his appearance, but once he started talking -- and he didn't stop for an hour and a half -- he became the most abrasive person in Kensington, an area known for its accomplishments in abrasiveness. While not gushing about the lead character in this completely fictional web series, or trying to borrow the production space, he was promoting his bargain bin marijuana board game; a "Trivial Pursuit for stoners," he explained. He even handed us his business card -- the only business card I've ever received with a giant marijuana leaf on it -- and told us where we could pick up a copy of the game in case our "stoner friends" were interested. We were also treated to an absolutely enchanting twenty minute story about how he was at a party last night in which some square had the audacity to ask our hero to cover up his shirt -- the very same t-shirt he was wearing now, unless he owned a Pee-Wee Herman-esque closet full of them -- so that the man's adolescent son couldn't see it and rush home in order to Google Ron Paul. Or something. All I know is that I was out of donuts and coffee and this conversation had gone off-track what seemed like hours ago, so I made up some bullshit about a family gathering and left.

While I had given up hope for ever contributing anything worthwhile to the series the second I was introduced to one of the other three writers, I completely checked out when the producer e-mailed me and had asked me to share my ideas on a message board that he had set up so that the four of us could collaborate on each two or three minute episode.

That was a couple of months ago and it doesn't appear as if they've filmed any new episodes since then. On top of that, judging by a recent Craigslist posting, they've been thrown out of their production space, leaving them with nowhere to film and possibly nowhere to edit. I'm certainly not celebrating anyone's failures, but trying to make myself feel better for being so lazy and irritable by telling myself that I didn't miss out on anything other than a possible five to ten percent discount on a marijuana trivia game.