I like to watch things on TV. Like, I really like it. I've always had cable (except for a few years post-grad school when I did have Netflix), and have many childhood memories of the glowing box in the family room telling me strange stories. It's how I fell in love with Robin Hood (the fox one, natch), The Secret of NIMH, The Last Unicorn (on a VHS we rented again and again and again from the Rite Aid), The Dark Crystal, Ghostbusters (the movie) and The Real Ghostbusters (the cartoon), Muppet Babies, all (two) of the Indiana Jones movies that existed pre-1989, and dear LORD don't get me started on the exceptional evening programming of Nick at Night--Mary Tyler Moore, Dick Van Dyke, weirdly, a fair amount of the Donna Reed Show, and my two absolute favorites: Dragnet and Get Smart.
THE POINT IS I watched a lot of television as a child and an adolescent, and I actually think it was (mostly) pretty great for my brain. It introduced me to other worlds, other characters, other jokes and stories; it made me dream harder, brighter, faster. It taught me, by osmosis, how to develop stories over a long-form narrative far more intricately and intensely than the novels I was capable of reading at the time. It taught me about expectations and genre, and how to mess with expectations and genre. Critically, I watched TV thoughtfully--I sought out shows and I paid attention to them. I didn't watch the TV just to watch the TV; that has always been boring to me.
I still love TV, and I'm beyond thrilled that we live in an age--truly, we do!--of extraordinary television. Television that rewards your attention, that qualifies as art, entertainment, experiment, sometimes all in one show (see: RuPaul's Drag Race). If a movie is a short story--a brief, poignant high--then a television show is a novel--it takes time. It lasts. It grows. It becomes a part of our lives and we change alongside it. The list of shows I've fallen for as an adult is long, and expanding: My So-Called Life, Deadwood, Freaks and Geeks, Twin Peaks, Mad Men, Gilmore Girls, Buffy, Firefly. I once spent a summer with early seasons of Bones, and recently I've had raging crushes on Fringe and Arrow.
All of this pontificating about how much I like TV is conextualizing some news: I'm delighted to share that Bellweather Rhapsody has been optioned by Sony for TV development.
NOW DON'T GET TOO EXCITED. (I know, I had to talk myself down too.) Options are only that: an option, a possibility, a chance. It means someone is interested. There's still an awful lot that has to happen before it might become a show, but the sense of possibility alone is so, so sweet.