COUNCIL
COLUMN by JACQUI ACHILLEAS
Hi. My name is Jacqui Achilleas and I’ m a grateful recovering... professional writer. Yes. That’ s right. Recovering. As in, returning to a normal state of health, mind, strength, and financial stability. Where have I been, and from what have I been recovering? It’ s a phenomenon which afflicts many a professional scriptwriter and to which I have been immune up until recently. I’ ve decided to lift the lid on this occurrence in the interests of sharing and offering advice to writers, who may or may not be in this position.
Since I started working as a scriptwriter more than six years ago, I have been incredibly lucky to work consistently throughout this time. My main source of income has been soapies, that gilded cage of a number of professional writers. Soap City is a curse and a blessing; a blessing that provides security through a regular pay cheque, primarily. It is, however, also a curse, because it’ s that same safety and security that forms a dependence which can stop you from exploring pastures new.
In the past year since I left Soap City, I’ ve faced a number of challenges. For the first time in my career I’ ve had to deal with the difficulties of the majority of independent contractors out there, and one in particular, the phenomenon known as feast or famine.
Now famine is a state that, up until recently, I had never been acquainted with. Friends, fellow scriptwriters, had often spoken of waiting for the phone to ring, the email to arrive with the offer of work. Then when it didn’ t, their desperation and despondency as one month became two, two became three and financial hardship bit its cruel bite. I used to listen to these friends with genuine sympathy, help out where I could, but I also felt an enormous relief that I was not one of them. That changed in October last year,
when the proverbial really hit the fan. Things had been slowing down for a few months, and it seemed that I couldn’ t get a job for love or money. I was seriously considering leaving the industry completely. I thought my time in the desert, where independent contractors went to die, would never end. I enquired, and received the application forms from a world-renowned culinary institute. I decided I wanted to be a pastry chef.
Then, a few days before Christmas, the phone rang. It was an offer of work starting immediately, and through Christmas, to the end of February. Joy! I was back from the wilderness. It wasn’ t easy, but slowly things got better.
Feast is that rare state of an abundance of work, the phone ringing nonstop, new opportunities presenting themselves every day... a healthy bank balance. And right now, this is where I find myself, gratefully. Who knows how long it will last, but having experienced the famine, I can only always be grateful for the feast.
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