If reality TV is over, does that mean more opportunities for writers? Jessica Mayne quizzes Hannah Sim, one of the brightest names in factual entertainment.

Hannah Sim has achieved a lot in her fast-moving career. She’s currently a freelance TV writer and producer, having been a series producer for Endemol and in charge of Channel 4 output for various production companies. Hannah divides her time between London and Cornwall, and I met her at University College Falmouth's Tremough campus, where she came to talk to MA professional writers about the current state of television production.

A good time to be a writer

Refreshingly, Hannah kicks off by reassuring me what a thriving time it is for new drama writers. “It probably hasn’t been this good for the last decade – go for it like mad,” she enthuses. I’m surprised; the recession and changes in how we consume digital media has prompted many industry heads I’ve met this past year to paint a darker picture of the current state of commissioning. Hannah doesn’t mince her words though in explaining why we should be upbeat: “You’re new – and cheap.” The dichotomy between the two types of writers getting commissioned these days is bigger than ever. You’re either established and invincible (step forward Jimmy Mc Govern, Paul Abbott and Lynn Ramsey) or you’re us; emerging writers they can pay a pittance. I weigh things up and nod; everyone’s got to start somewhere I guess and now is not the time to be precious about work.

Noughtie TV

The mid-Noughties saw reality TV flourish. It was new, people were nosy and we got obsessed with one perspective on real but extraordinary lives – the fly-on-the-wall format. But all TV trends run their course. “Reality TV is now dying. Even Big Brother’s been decommissioned,” Hannah points out. Could docudramas be the new buzz genre then? Hannah thinks so, and talks at length about why docudramas speak to such wide audiences. So what does she look for when commissioning an idea? “Great characters. I look for a script that changes the way I think about people, and changes our conventional view of a subject.” Hannah describes how much detailed work she likes to see in a docudrama script. “Improvised scripts are very trendy at the moment, but it doesn’t always work because real-life conversation is so different from scripted conversation. To get that improvised feel, in many ways writing needs to be even more scripted. And then you need good actors, too.”

Hannah encourages budding docudrama writers to stick as closely as possible to the events a script is based on, but to cut out extraneous detail and the mundane conversations we have everyday. Actors exchanging conversation about the washing up or bus times is not stimulating, however ‘real-life’ the scene purports to be. There’s a fine line between documentary and docudrama, but as writers we need to remember that audiences come to be entertained.

Finding ideas

Hannah describes the sea of newspapers available every morning at production companies, and co-workers scrambling over each other to grab the most entertaining, television-translatable stories to pitch to the boss. Hannah prefers the local papers, where the rights to stories are more easily obtainable and the competition from other companies minimal. “If you want a true account of an event in the news, then just pick up the phone,” she shrugs. “Most people are in the local phonebook; it’s that simple.”

Ethical issues

However, Hannah also warns of the bureaucratic stickiness and legal restrictions you can encounter when working with real stories. The docudrama genre forces writers to struggle with ethics more than many forms of writing, and Hannah discusses the tug of war between dramatic licence and fighting for the truth. Docudramas often campaign to change views, introduce diverse perspectives on contentious issues and raise awareness. That's challenging enough. And yet they present another ethical stumbling block: characters are fictionalised and inevitably diverge from the real people they are based on. “You’re often representing real people but amalgamating two real characters to make them into one fictional character, for example,” Hannah says. This undoubtedly gets people’s backs up now and again. The docudrama scriptwriter has to walk a tightrope then – staying true to a story’s events yet keeping the script tight and functioning well. It’s a ruthless game of re-drafting, cutting, snipping or adding to shape a piece of entertainment that will fit a timeline and a TV slot. Because as well as answering to the real characters, there are the commissioners to please, too; they’re the employers first and foremost.

This prompts me to ask Hannah if a docudrama script is more likely to be given the green light if written with a low production budget in mind? She’s diplomatic. Of course lower production values appeal at a time when television has little money to play with, but this should not rule your writing. “Just make sure you have good answers and contingencies if cost becomes a deciding factor. Ask yourself. 'Does everything need to be there?'” So no location-hopping trips to Paris or Italy for six bonus shots and a bit of sunshine then…?

City or sea?

Studying in Falmouth, I meet many people who encourage us to stay in the South West, and who believe that opportunities in Cornwall are growing and a solid career can be built here. Hannah Sim, however, believes a stint in London is imperative, even if you later return to Cornwall. So where are the best places to network, I ask? “The Groucho Club; I think everyone’s better at pitching when they’ve had a glass of wine.” I couldn’t agree more; Dutch courage tackles nerves and helps us newbies remember that bigwig producers are just humans. Sam Snape, tutor for TAPS, the leading training scheme for new television writers, recently told me something similar: “Remember, just because a producer doesn’t like your idea it doesn’t mean they don’t like you!”

Media-savvy Hannah giggles at the types that frequent these types of London clubs. I guess us emerging writers need to know how to play the game to get where we want to be, and Hannah is matter-of-fact not only about the sheer workload required but also the ability to schmooze. Despite being at the top of the game, Hannah seems to have her feet firmly on the ground. Perhaps it has something to do with splitting her time between the city and the sea, but I don’t doubt that she’s one of the few top dogs who can actually fit their head through Groucho’s front door.