I’m starting a new class in how to write a sitcom pilot, very soon. Here’s a description and all the information.

In this class students will write a pilot script based on their own original idea. All aspects of the process will be covered, from coming up with the world, developing the characters,  and devising original stories, to pitching a pilot episode idea, outlining it, writing a first draft, then rewriting it based on feedback. The class will be run as closely to a real writers' room as possible, with feedback from all students encouraged, as this is part of the actual sitcom writing process. Students will walk away with a full pilot script.

Students will be expected to participate extensively in class discussions. This class will be conducted remotely; internet access required.

In addition to 8 group meetings, the class also includes a half-hour one-on-one session with instructor at the conclusion of 8 weeks to go over the entire script point by point.

Class size is limited. Cost is $550.

Time: Sundays 12-3

Dates: October 15, 22, 29, November 5, 12, 19, December 3, 10, 17.

For more info and some testimonials, go here.

To register, email me back for info on Venmo or Zelle.

Every Monday on my Instagram page (follow me @seanconroy) I publish a writing prompt. Using it helps me start the writing process for the week going downhill (not in terms of quality, just ease of effort). Here’s the one I used today, and what I wrote:

Write about a character who finds an odd-looking egg in the forest. When they take it home, they never could have predicted what was inside it.

I was out for a walk on I think a Tuesday, usual route. Crossed the stream, went up to the alder grove, tunred left, past the stumps, blah blah blha. Then I was like, fuck it, it’s Tuesday, or Weendsay or whatever, what if I wnet left instead of right?

Wild.

So I did.

And not 8 minutes later I hit a clearing, and right in the middle, just sitting there like a bump on a log, was a log. And on top of the log was the biggest egg I had ever seen. It was about 7 feet in diameter, 7 feet tall- so not ovoid, like you get at the chicken ranch, but round, like a home coordination module.

Now the first rule of walking in the forest is leave no trace, so I knew immediately I had to get that thing out of there.

It was a struggle, but I’ve been doing a lot of carry exercises with oddly shaped objects, you know beanbg chairs, armoires, my son (the younger one, Robert- he lloks like a bag of basketballs on stilts- not Peter, he’s just a good loking kid).

SO I managed to get my arms partway around it and lever it up and somehow roll and toss ande carry it all the way back to the bunker. The kids were excited when I brought it through the portal into the front decompression area and hosed it down. They started chanting the samw way they do when we are at a meet, but instead of chanting the names of the what they would do to the competitors from the opposing factions, you know “Cripple the tall guy with a hammer! Cripple the tall guy with a hammer!’ or “Pull that beard! UYank that beard! Pull that beard! Yank that beard!” and so forth (maybe we need to plan ahead a little) they started chaning “Open it! What’s inside? Open it! What’s inside?” It would hve been better if the chant was just “Crack it open! (clap clap, clap clap clap) Crack it open!” and so forth. But whatever. Love them. They’re my kids!

So I took out a hammer and a chisel, and started chipping away at the shell. For a while. It took me at least an hour to make a noticeable whole, the shell was tough, and all the while I’m going “What the f is in here? Some kind of scaly thing? A flyer? Teeth? Something big, that’s for sure.”

But finally a got a 6 inch whole in it and I tipped so some of the runny stuff started puring out, gusing really, sooooomuc. The albumen or whtever. Right? And suddenly

LITERALLY TIMER WENT OFF HERE AND I HAVE NO DIEA WHAT WAS IN THERE.