I once worked on a show where the main character was a hopeless romantic, modeled after the show’s creator. During the successful show’s first season, both the audience and the network gave feedback that this character was a “pussy” — more romantic than any straight man would ever be. Stung by the criticism, the show’s creator “butched up” his TV version of himself. Even more interesting, though, he started to adjust his own romantic behavior, becoming more of a player, more of a “cool guy.” It was a fascinating thing to watch, this art imitating life that then changed because of the criticism of the art. So, the “me” in my pilot got
— What I Was Doing While You Were Breeding (Kristin Newman), Loc. 2025–30