Anatomy of a Liar: My Experience with Elisabeth Finch

Anatomy of Lies Peacock

I just finished watching Anatomy of Lies on Peacock, and I can’t shake the ick. Elisabeth Finch and I worked together from 2009 - 2010 on No Ordinary Family. We were all on the lowest rung of the writing staff, Elisabeth slightly above me. No Ordinary Family was actually her first staff writing job. She had been previously paper teamed with Kate Barnow on True Blood.

“Paperteaming” is aWGA term. There are many definitions, but here’s mine - when two young, usually female or diverse assistants are offered an opportunity to write a script or receive a coveted staffing position, but only if they agree to split the salary and credit. It’s a way to offer more young writers opportunities, but on the flipside is a way for shows like True Blood to get two, brilliant young writers for the price of one. And then, reps will continue to pitch them to shows as a pair, because their only credit (episodes of True Blood) has them as co-writers.

No Ordinary Family was interesting because it was a WME package. WME repped the majority of the actors and the creators. They stacked the writers room with, count it, NINE UPPER LEVEL WHITE MEN, and one woman. In an afterthought, Barnow and Finch were added on as staff writers and then half way through the season Sallie Patrick as a mid-level writer. Dana Jackson was given the ABC Fellowship diversity spot. Meanwhile, the assistants were all nipping at the heels of the lower level staff writers (Jackson, Barnow and Finch) with me, Emily Silver and Andrew Major snagging scripts. (The series was canceled before my episode aired.)  

Truthfully, the atmosphere at No Ordinary Family was competitive and when it ended, I felt like I just crawled out of an escape room. There was so much talent, power, access, opportunity and wealth under one roof every day. We were in the offices that had been occupied by Lost for the decade before. Breathing the air there was intoxicating. I was only twenty-six years old at the time, and for me it was stressful, but also a blessing. That show introduced me to so many amazing people, some I still call friends today. But, for Finch it wasn’t so welcoming. That was the last show that her and Barnow wrote together on and I know there was some drama surrounding the split.

The television landscape changed over the next few years. Almost every cable channel started offering scripted opportunities. Hundreds of new writers entered the television writing workforce. It was a wonderful time as all of my friends were landing staffing jobs.

However, cable seasons ran only eight to ten episodes with long breaks in between. All of these new writers were suddenly up against each other for those mid-level jobs. And, there was no distinction between experience when getting a title bump. You were simply low-mid level. Like, a mid-level writer could be a young person that did two seasons on an Emmy winning cable show (a total of 16 episodes and never stepping foot on set), or an older person that did two seasons on a Network show (44 episodes, and often covering set for a bulk) and had been an assistant for five years.

And, then, all those networks that dove into scripted in 2013 – 2017 ultimately pulled the plug on their expensive scripted experiment. So, more mid-level writers than ever before, less jobs. It was an incredibly competitive landscape.

The demand became not only do you need to be a flawless, highly educated writer, you need to be willing and able to eloquently trauma bond with execs so they can see you have a “story to tell and that you tell it well.” Am I defending Finchie? No, she’s a sick person and obviously needs help. But, when Andy Reaser (who I don’t know btw) says in Anatomy of a Lie,  “I don’t know why she did all that, it seems like more work than to just do your job well,” I will go back to the nine men hired on No Ordinary Family, with the few, lower-level women added as an afterthought.

A man also said in that documentary, Finch didn’t want to be a nobody from nowhere with nothing to say. Yes, POV is valuable. And, if you’re going to use someone else’s life in your writing, you should treat them like sources and not lovers. BUT - The phrase, nobody from nowhere with nothing to say, in and of itself is incredibly flawed and what makes so many of us feel the need as writers to live insanity for the sake of art.

We are enough, and our stories are valuable simply because we’re here. Y’all should go read Lovers & Writers by Lily King. She struggles with her landlord asking her why she’s writing a book, because what could she possibly have to say that matters?

We all fucking matter.

We shouldn't have to become psychopath, narcissists creating elaborate abusive lies to survive Hollywood. And, you watch, Finch will survive. There's already a Peacock docudrama about her.