PK got bitten by the writing bug early. It helped that he grew up with lots of writers around. His stepfather was a book editor, so authors were often in the house, scrounging food, cracking jokes and generally seeming less like unapproachable demigods than... people.
In high school, P.K.’s excellent grades put him on the honor roll. For about five minutes. He developed some bad habits and his grades went to hell. As a result he was rejected by every college he applied to, except one: a brand new overseas school so desperate for backpacking students that they would admit almost anyone. The experience changed P.K.’s life.
In Athens he broke his arm in a motorcycle accident. In Moscow he drank too much vodka at a friendship banquet and fell off a cable car. In Florence he posed as a docent and guided satisfied tourists through the Uffizi Gallery. On the college campus itself, he performed in two plays (Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest and Ionesco’s Rhinoceros); he became fluent in Italian; and he wrote for the school literary magazine. It was an education.
After transferring into Harvard, P.K.'s newly developed wanderlust took more interior forms. He became a serial major-switcher, toggling between Philosophy, English, Art History, English, Film and English. There was a gap year to work on a losing presidential campaign. Finally P.K. settled down a bit. He dug into the English Lit canon; he directed Joe Orton’s Loot at the American Repertory Theater’s experimental stage; and he labored over short stories in a series of creative writing classes. There were no more motorcycle accidents or cable car mishaps.
In Los Angeles, after a few years employed reading scripts for film producers, P.K. partnered with a friend and made one of the worst movies ever. (The micro-budget clunker did manage, however, to pay all its investors back in full, with interest.) Much was learned. P.K. then began his t.v. career, landing a job as a staff writer on the Emmy-winning Beauty and the Beast, where he worked for two seasons (alongside fellow staffer George R.R. Martin). This was followed by a couple of seasons on the Emmy-winning Doogie Howser, MD and five seasons on the Golden Globe-winning Party of Five, which P.K. ultimately took over as Executive Producer and “showrunner”. Running t.v. shows is a deeply rewarding and savagely grueling job, which was partly what led P.K. to craft a new life plan: he would keep running shows until his health and sanity gave out, or until he’d saved enough money to skip town, whichever came first. Then, with luck, he’d be able to watch his children grow up, and write… Other Things.
The last stop on the t.v. showrunner train was Ghost Whisperer. It was not a critic’s darling (unless you count the Saturn Awards), but the show offered opportunities to be creatively disruptive. P.K. pitched the network a crazy idea: Why not reinvent the show as a character-driven serialized romance by killing a hero and bringing him back in another man’s body? The gambit paid off, increasing viewership by almost a third, a rare feat for any mid-life series.
After guiding the show for three successful seasons, P.K. packed up his family and moved to Massachusetts. He began writing Other Things. (Books and plays and political commentary.) He founded a writing symposium. He volunteered locally, serving on various non profit boards. He earned slots for his rants on political blogs like Andrew Sullivan’s The Dish and Josh Marshall’s Talking Points Memo. He became an enthusiastic Soccer Dad, finally learning what his kids looked like. (The best kind of education.) Aside from a several year gig writing Reign, a historical t.v. drama about Mary Queen of Scots, P.K. stayed mostly focused on Other Things. He recently completed his first play, Bearded Ladies, which got a sold-out staged reading at the Cape Cod Theater Project, starring Sam Waterston. The play was named a semi-finalist for the 2019 National Playwrights Conference. Development continues on this play and others, as well as short stories and a Middle Grade fantasy novel. And, because certain habits die hard, a new t.v. series.
The writing life continues to be -- in mostly joyful ways -- an education.
In high school, P.K.’s excellent grades put him on the honor roll. For about five minutes. He developed some bad habits and his grades went to hell. As a result he was rejected by every college he applied to, except one: a brand new overseas school so desperate for backpacking students that they would admit almost anyone. The experience changed P.K.’s life.
In Athens he broke his arm in a motorcycle accident. In Moscow he drank too much vodka at a friendship banquet and fell off a cable car. In Florence he posed as a docent and guided satisfied tourists through the Uffizi Gallery. On the college campus itself, he performed in two plays (Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest and Ionesco’s Rhinoceros); he became fluent in Italian; and he wrote for the school literary magazine. It was an education.
After transferring into Harvard, P.K.'s newly developed wanderlust took more interior forms. He became a serial major-switcher, toggling between Philosophy, English, Art History, English, Film and English. There was a gap year to work on a losing presidential campaign. Finally P.K. settled down a bit. He dug into the English Lit canon; he directed Joe Orton’s Loot at the American Repertory Theater’s experimental stage; and he labored over short stories in a series of creative writing classes. There were no more motorcycle accidents or cable car mishaps.
In Los Angeles, after a few years employed reading scripts for film producers, P.K. partnered with a friend and made one of the worst movies ever. (The micro-budget clunker did manage, however, to pay all its investors back in full, with interest.) Much was learned. P.K. then began his t.v. career, landing a job as a staff writer on the Emmy-winning Beauty and the Beast, where he worked for two seasons (alongside fellow staffer George R.R. Martin). This was followed by a couple of seasons on the Emmy-winning Doogie Howser, MD and five seasons on the Golden Globe-winning Party of Five, which P.K. ultimately took over as Executive Producer and “showrunner”. Running t.v. shows is a deeply rewarding and savagely grueling job, which was partly what led P.K. to craft a new life plan: he would keep running shows until his health and sanity gave out, or until he’d saved enough money to skip town, whichever came first. Then, with luck, he’d be able to watch his children grow up, and write… Other Things.
The last stop on the t.v. showrunner train was Ghost Whisperer. It was not a critic’s darling (unless you count the Saturn Awards), but the show offered opportunities to be creatively disruptive. P.K. pitched the network a crazy idea: Why not reinvent the show as a character-driven serialized romance by killing a hero and bringing him back in another man’s body? The gambit paid off, increasing viewership by almost a third, a rare feat for any mid-life series.
After guiding the show for three successful seasons, P.K. packed up his family and moved to Massachusetts. He began writing Other Things. (Books and plays and political commentary.) He founded a writing symposium. He volunteered locally, serving on various non profit boards. He earned slots for his rants on political blogs like Andrew Sullivan’s The Dish and Josh Marshall’s Talking Points Memo. He became an enthusiastic Soccer Dad, finally learning what his kids looked like. (The best kind of education.) Aside from a several year gig writing Reign, a historical t.v. drama about Mary Queen of Scots, P.K. stayed mostly focused on Other Things. He recently completed his first play, Bearded Ladies, which got a sold-out staged reading at the Cape Cod Theater Project, starring Sam Waterston. The play was named a semi-finalist for the 2019 National Playwrights Conference. Development continues on this play and others, as well as short stories and a Middle Grade fantasy novel. And, because certain habits die hard, a new t.v. series.
The writing life continues to be -- in mostly joyful ways -- an education.