TSCC: Josh Friedman blogs his experiences with the show being cancelled…

By way of CoronaComingAttractions:

When Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles failed to find a home in Fox’s 2009-2010 season the show’s fans cried out in anguish. But even as media reporters and fan organizers wrote their disappointment on blogs and in magazine columns there was one side of this story that didn’t have a voice. When a show is cancelled it’s just bad news for its viewers, but to those that are working on the program it means you’re unemployed and out of work. Who tells the story of those people?

Josh Friedman was the guy at the top of the creative tentpole on The Sarah Connor Chronicles, the writer of the pilot episode and showrunner of the series…

From Josh’s blog, I Find Your Lack of Faith Disturbing:

BOY IN THE BUBBLE

So where was I?

Oh. Right.

I had this little scary robot show and for whatever reason couldn’t convince enough people that it was a) scary enough b) robot enough or c) in English. Add that dim sum combo of factors to a red bean paste of non-monetizable early adopters dvring the show like motherfuckers and now I’m unemployed.

Everyone says having your show cancelled is like a death but I’ve been dead before and at least when you’re dead you don’t get thrown off the Warner Bros. lot for haunting your old parking space. They probably mean it’s like the death of a friend or a family member but that shit only hurts when it’s YOUR friend or family member and even then it’s mitigated by age, lifestyle and whether that person was a Hollywood friend or a real one and whether that family member left you money.

Losing your show is more like a surprise divorce where you get served papers in the morning and your (ex)wife is fucking Human Target by three in the afternoon using the same time slot your child was conceived in and also where she did that one thing that one time on your birthday.

People say the bright side to losing your show is gaining time to spend with your family but I’m pretty sure that waking up next to your ex-showrunner spouse whom you haven’t seen for two and a half years is pretty close to waking up next to that special someone you met the night before at Carlos n’ Charlie’s in Cancun on Spring Break.

WIFE: Oh…It’s you.
EX-SHOWRUNNER: Hey baby.
WIFE: You look…different than I remember.
EX-SHOWRUNNER: I’ve gone a little grey.
WIFE: Or a little fat.
EX-SHOWRUNNER: Pretty sure it’s grey.
WIFE: Pretty sure…fat. Was I…drunk?
EX-SHOWRUNNER: Drunk? When?
WIFE: I don’t know. The whole time?

You should own your self-inflicted wounds if for no other reason than a) they are yours and b) you inflicted them, you dumb motherfucker, but I do want to say in my own defense that it takes a special kind of someone to work seventy hours a week where it is HALLOWEEN 24FUCKING7 and not pack on a few–

WIFE: Dozen.

A dozen–

Go read the whole thing here! Thanks Josh for the post!