'I'm an Aussie writer on strike. For my last job, part of my payment was a basket of cheese.'

I wrote a movie that became a successful streaming film. Instead of receiving a cut of the profits - standard if it had been released in theatres - the studio sent me a meat and cheese gift basket. Unfortunately, my landlord does not accept Camembert as a rent payment.

This is one of the reasons why the 11,500 members of The Writers Guild of America, myself included, went on strike last week. The rise of streaming brought the tech industry to Hollywood, and with that came the desire to transform our profession into a gig economy. They’ve denied us residuals on streaming movies - and in TV you can look forward to cheques for three cents. They've cut traditional writers rooms and created ‘mini-rooms’ in their wake, which result in writers doing more work in less time, for less money. And they’re bursting to use AI. All while studios make record profits, and studio heads rake in multi-million dollar salaries.

Watch the thousands of writers at the picket lines. Post continues below.

I moved from Sydney to LA as the streaming era began, and the shift has been undeniable. Fundamentals of contracts that would give me a semblance of financial stability have been eliminated, forcing me to do extensive free work in order to progress to the next round or find new projects, while the lack of residuals on streaming mean I lose an entire avenue of income. This has always been a difficult career to break into, but now they’re making it impossible to stay.

And yet the studios’ response has been that we should consider ourselves lucky to be involved at all. Pretty bold when you consider we create the content that gives them their $50 million salaries. The head of Warner Brothers Discovery did not create Logan Roy - Jesse Armstrong did. You watch The White Lotus because Mike White knows how to write great characters. And that new Barbie we’re all so amped for? That’s Greta Gerwig’s imagination, not the studio’s.

You may have already noticed the consequences of this brewing storm - a feeling of quantity over quality on streamers, because they aren’t giving us the chance to do our jobs. I’ve never met a writer who doesn’t put blood, sweat and tears into their work, but writing is a process and they’re denying us the actual ‘process’ part.

Behind the scenes, established writers are burnt out. New writers can’t break in at all. TV writers aren’t getting the necessary experience to run their own shows. And in an industry that’s only just begun to include diverse stories, underpaying and cutting opportunities risks losing the very writers who create them. Nobody wins if we regress.

Armed with these low, fate-of-the-industry stakes, The Writer’s Guild of America went to the negotiation table, asking for fair compensation for our work, a small cut of profits, and the ability to do our jobs. The studios didn’t even submit counter offers to most of these asks. When it came to AI, we asked that they regulate its use. The studios countered that they absolutely would not, but were open to holding "an annual meeting to discuss advancements in technology." If it wasn’t so insulting, it’d be funny.

Writers said… many things, but for the purpose of keeping this family friendly let’s just say we gave their offers a hard pass right back.

So how do we fight back against these sprawling corporations?

Collective action. When I joined the Guild, I didn’t fully understand what a labour union was. I quickly learnt Hollywood is an industry of unions, and its writers have often had to strike for better conditions as the world has changed. I’ve also learnt… it’s worked.

Image: Supplied.

Accordingly, at 12:01am last Tuesday, we all stopped writing. No scripts are coming in. We turned off the pipeline.

And denying them our words, collectively, holds power.

(Yes, it’s inevitable some executive gets Chat GPT to write a script, but it won’t be good, because Chat GPT doesn’t get that humans are endlessly complicated, nor does it possess a lifetime of bad decisions to help form dry one-liners.)

Writers didn’t want to strike. For most of us, the personal cost is significant. We’re worried about paying rent and childcare and losing health insurance. I know writers and support staff who are already contemplating a second job - but I know more who already had one before the strike.

This will also impact the rest of the industry, but they’re not being treated so well either - we’re just the first union to have had negotiations. And we all know that if we don’t stand up to these Disney-villain levels of corporate greed, it will only get worse.

David Zaslav, head of Warner Discovery, said the strike will end because of writers "love for the business and a love for working." A brave statement from a man who seems to feel the opposite. But he’s right about one thing - we love our jobs. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t, because it’s too hard. We sacrifice too much.

I love screenwriting and feel so privileged to do it for a living. I love I get to create stories and characters and worlds. I love I can use words to make people feel, or see a new perspective. I love that excited feeling when I figure out a scene, or find the perfect bit of dialogue. I love I get to play God - that bit I cover in therapy, yes. Recently, I’ve had the honour of watching my words be transformed into something real by brilliantly talented casts and crews, which is a whole other level of amazing. I even love my meltdowns - are you a real writer if you don’t question your ability every 3.5 days? I could not have moved away from my family, friends and Sydney for anything less than this, and I’m not giving it up without a fight.

Since the strike was called last Monday, picketing has occurred daily outside the major studios in New York and LA. Productions are shutting down. Writer’s rooms are empty.

Every Hollywood labour union showed up to our strike meeting in solidarity. Actors, musicians, animators, and production designers have been marching beside us, while teamsters are refusing to cross our picket lines.

I’ve been on those picket lines at Warner Brothers, Paramount and Disney. Do I feel like I’m protesting an old-timey factory closure at the turn of the 20th century? Absolutely. But there’s also an incredible feeling of community. It’s surreal to be surrounded by so much talent, knowing the people beside you created the stories you love, the characters you want to know, and the dialogue you can’t stop quoting.

Writers aren’t asking for mansions or diamond-encrusted Ferraris, we’re asking to be paid a living wage, so that we may go on writing those things you love. I’m so excited to return to my job when the strike’s over, but we know our worth - more than cheese, for a start - and we have to fight for what we deserve, for writers today and the writers of tomorrow.

Plus, have you seen how good our picket signs are? Chat GPT could never.

Image: Supplied.

Feature Image: Supplied.