I started my career as a literary manager in Los Angeles in 2016. Nothing prepared me for the last six years.
Without exaggeration it has been the most brutal stretch I have witnessed in my career — and I have witnessed a lot. I have watched colleagues leave the business entirely. Agents and managers I have known for years — people I respected, people who were genuinely good at their jobs — have recently walked away from the business entirely. The contraction hasn’t just affected writers and filmmakers. It has hollowed out the representation industry too. Dont get me started on agents masquerading as managers (I will leave that topic for another time…)
But I am still here. And I’m writing this because you deserve to hear the honest version of what is happening from a working manager navigating this market in real time.
Let me start with the data because it is genuinely alarming.
Since the strikes of 2023, LA County’s motion picture industry has lost approximately 42,000 jobs — down from 142,000 employed workers to around 100,000 in just two years. Entertainment employment overall remains 25% below its 2022 peak. Shooting days in LA County were down 42% in 2024 compared to 2022.
But the television numbers are the ones that keep me up at night.
According to the WGA’s own data, TV writing jobs fell by 42% for the 2023-2024 season — from 1,819 jobs to just 1,319. Nearly 500 television writing jobs simply disappeared in one year. Screenwriting work declined too, with the number of screenwriters working down 15% and earnings down 6% compared to 2022.
One TV writer captured the mood of the entire industry better than any report could: “I think people right now are less afraid of ‘Is AI gonna take my job?’ as opposed to ‘Are there any jobs to be taken?’”
That is where we are.
I want to be direct about something that I am not seeing discussed honestly enough.
Post-strike, the contraction of the television writers room is real and it is devastating — particularly for lower and mid-level writers. The rooms that still exist are smaller. Where once a show might have staffed a dozen writers across multiple levels, today you are looking at six slots on a good day. And those six slots are going to writers with established credits and existing relationships. Emphasis on relationships.
The writers who do have jobs right now are not leaving them. They are holding on tightly — and I cannot blame them. Which means there is very little turnover. Very little movement. Very few open spots for emerging or mid-level writers to step into.
If you are a lower or mid-level television writer right now, you are not failing. You are navigating a market that has structurally reduced the number of positions available to you. That is not a referendum on your talent; it is a reality of the business.
As a manager, my job is not to sugarcoat the market. It is to help my clients navigate it strategically. Here is what I am saying in every client conversation right now.
Create. Constantly.
The writers I am seeing gain traction are the ones generating new material at speed. Original pilots. Original feature specs. IP development. The writers who are not working are the ones sitting by their phones waiting for the phone to ring. In this market, waiting is a career-ending strategy.
Look at the indie space and international productions.
There is more activity happening in the independent film space and in international co-productions than I have seen in years. Under five million dollar features are moving. International productions are gaining momentum. If you are a filmmaker or a feature writer, this is where I would be focusing my energy right now.
The procedural is your friend.
In television, I am seeing a genuine appetite for procedurals — specifically procedurals with an element of soapiness that makes them repeatable. Format-driven content that a buyer can see running for multiple seasons. If you have an idea that lives in this space, now is the time to develop it.
Genre will always find a market.
No matter how contracted things get, there is always a buyer for a well-executed genre project. Horror, thriller, elevated genre — this has never stopped moving. If you write in this space, keep writing.
Something happened in the industry recently that I think deserves a genuine conversation.
Sugar23 — the management and production company founded by Oscar-winning producer Michael Sugar, representing clients including Steven Soderbergh and Cary Fukunaga — restructured its company, with six managers departing as part of a comprehensive re-organisation. Their goal is to evolve into what they are calling a “next-generation branded entertainment studio” — taking brands that would normally advertise around entertainment and bringing them into the process of developing, producing and financing content.
My honest take? Brand-funded storytelling is happening whether any of us has an opinion about it or not. It is an undeniable and growing space. The question isn’t whether brands will become part of the content creation ecosystem — they already are. The question is whether we engage with it thoughtfully or watch it happen to us.
What concerns me is the creative integrity question. Whose story is actually being told when a brand is in the room? That is a legitimate conversation the industry needs to have. But I also believe that great writers and filmmakers — the ones with a genuine point of view and the confidence to hold it — will always find a way to tell the truth even within a brand-funded model. The best storytellers always have.
I cannot write about the state of this business without addressing the thing everyone is thinking about but few people in positions of authority are saying plainly.
AI is already inside the industry. It is being used in development, production, post and marketing. Studios are exploring it for coverage, for pitch analysis, for identifying IP trends. The WGA fought hard in the last strike to establish protections around AI and writing credits — and those protections matter. But the honest reality is that the technology is moving faster than any contract can keep up with.
Here is my actual view as a manager: AI is not going to replace great writers. What it is going to do — and is already doing — is raise the floor. The baseline level of competent, functional writing that AI can produce means that competent and functional is no longer enough to get noticed. The writers who will thrive in an AI world are the ones whose voice is so specific, so human, so irreplaceable that no algorithm could have generated it.
This is not a threat to distinctive voices.
Write something only you could write. That has always been the answer. It is more true now than it has ever been.
As a diverse Manager myself, I have to say something that I am not seeing anyone with a seat at the table say plainly.
The diversity initiative era — the post-2020 peak of genuine industry commitment to bringing underrepresented voices into the system — has contracted. The jobs, the fellowships, the development deals that were specifically created to bring diverse writers and filmmakers into the room are fewer than they were three years ago. DEI is non-existent and one executive at a major studio recently said plainly to me; “we dont use that word anymore.” The writers and filmmakers who were told the doors were opening are now navigating a very different reality.
I am not saying this to discourage anyone. I am saying it because you deserve the truth so you can make smart decisions about your career.
Here is what I believe with everything I have: diverse voices — women, filmmakers of colour, LGBTQ+ creators — are not just needed in this industry for moral reasons. They are needed because the stories that break through in a saturated market are always the ones that come from a specific, irreplaceable human perspective. The most commercially successful films of the last five years have almost all been driven by distinctive cultural voices.
The system may not be actively championing you the way it was years ago. That means the answer is the same as it always has been — build heat, build audience, create work so undeniable that the industry cannot afford to ignore it.
Representation has a representation problem. I started New Story specifically because I believe that the writers and filmmakers who most deserve to be heard are often the ones least equipped with the information and advocacy they need to get there. That is what this Substack exists to change.
In the middle of all of this contraction, Ryan Coogler did something quietly extraordinary with Sinners.
He negotiated three non-negotiable terms with Warner Bros. — final cut, first-dollar gross participation from the very first ticket sold, and a rights reversion clause that returns full ownership of the film to him after 25 years, meaning Sinners will belong entirely to Coogler in 2050. That is not a small thing. That is a seismic shift in how a filmmaker thought about their relationship with a studio.
And it worked. Because Ryan Coogler understood something fundamental: this industry is resting on the shoulders of its creatives. Always has been. The studios know it. The streamers know it. And in a period of maximum contraction, when everyone is frightened and the leverage seems to sit entirely with the buyers — it is actually the people who can create something undeniable who hold the real power.
The creatives are the ones who will ultimately triumph in this period. Not by abandoning the system, but by understanding their value within it.
One of the most exciting things I am watching right now is the growth of the NonDē movement — non-dependent filmmaking.
Born directly out of this period of contraction, NonDē is a growing community of filmmakers asserting creative, financial, and distribution control outside of the traditional Hollywood system. In 2026 there is a coordinated effort to get 50 NonDē films made. It is real, it is growing, and it represents exactly the kind of creative agency this moment demands.
My view on this is nuanced. I am completely aligned with the spirit of it — I have always believed that putting creative and financial power in the hands of storytellers is the right direction for this industry. Nothing excites me more than a filmmaker who takes control of their own narrative.
But I would caution against abandoning the traditional system entirely. The two paths are not mutually exclusive. NonDē filmmaking is a powerful way to showcase what you are capable of — to build a body of work, prove a concept, develop an audience. And then bring that proof of concept to traditional buyers from a position of strength rather than supplication.
Use the platform to get to the table. Don’t mistake the platform for the destination.
If you want to understand where the smart money is moving, look at what Issa Rae just did.
She went back to her roots. Her company Hoorae Media just announced a partnership with TikTok to bring original micro-series content to the platform — starting with their first micro-drama series which in a matter of hours has racked up millions of views.
One of the most successful writer-producers in Hollywood chose to go back to the platform model that made her famous in the first place. The micro-drama industry is now pulling in approximately eight billion dollars globally and is projected to grow significantly over the coming years.
This is not a niche. This is a market. And it is a market that rewards exactly what the traditional system has been devaluing — distinctive voices, specific perspectives, and stories that speak directly to an audience without a studio filter in between.
Verticals offer the storyteller access unlike any time before to be inventive with their storytelling and to utilize social media to not only tell stories but to create a branded business. Whether you’re a content creator that chases brand deals or a storyteller that wants to one day take home your Oscar, the platforms remain identical. And theres no rule book – we’re creating it.
Here is what I believe after nearly twenty years in this business and six of the hardest years I have ever seen.
The writers and filmmakers who are going to build real careers over the next five years are not going to be the ones who waited for traditional Hollywood to save them. They are going to be the ones who understood that the platforms have changed — and changed their strategy accordingly.
Build your audience. Create content. Use TikTok, YouTube, social media — not as a distraction from your writing career but as an extension of it. Shoot your pilot. Write the micro-series. Make the thing.
The power is with the storytellers. It has always been with the storytellers. The market is just finally making that impossible to ignore.
If you want to go deeper on any of this — how to position yourself in this market, what I am actually advising my clients right now, and what the opportunities look like from the inside — that is exactly what I cover every Thursday for paid subscribers. As a paid subscriber you also get access to me 24/7 in chat.
If you want to talk about what all of this means specifically for your career — where you fit in this market right now and what your next move should be — 1:1 consultations are open. One hour. No filters. Just honest, strategic advice from someone actively working inside Hollywood representation right now.
