There are six remaining serials on the air. I wish them all the success in the world, but I have to admit: None of them are “my” shows.
I will never be an everyday viewer of a network serial again. No offense to the remaining shows, but though I’ve watched them all and may catch them again in the future, none have ever spoken to me as these shows did. And none are consistent enough today with the kinds of stories I’d need to see to form a habit.
Serials are, sadly, still the bastard child in the narrative world. Put a bunch of male characters in a serialized story, give them costumes and supernatural powers, and you have a comic book. Those stories will be praised as realistic and as capturing the essence of man. A huge chunk of the movie business, and nearly every director, will want to make a movie in that vein, and billions of dollars in tickets will sell.
Put a mixture of characters in a story with emotion and heart and small moments and you’re labeled, at best, as programming for women. At worst, those programs are dismissed as insignificant and trifling. You will be relegated to specific cable channels and a few hours here and there on the networks.
And after decades of criticism, one by one, those shows will stop doing what they did best. Slowly, our onscreen shows continue to evolve into action-adventure hybrids.
I don’t have anything else to say, so this is it, folks. I made a big fuss when I took a hiatus before, having been overwhelmed with writing about the death of Guiding Light. No fuss this time. This is the last post. Thanks so much for reading.
You may see me pop up on other blogs in the comments, or as a guest blogger. And there are a few projects Web soap Web soap Web soap that I’m interested in pursuing.
A hat tip and a wave to everyone who came, who read my posts, who commented.
As the earth turns, we know the bleakness of winter, the promise of spring, the fullness of summer, and the harvest of autumn. As the earth turns the cycle of life is completed. But as long as there is a springtime and a harvest, as long as the earth turns, nothing is futile.
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