People change. It is common when you have known a person in a certain period of your life and then encounter them in another years later, that you pick up on alterations not only in their outward appearance, which can be obvious manifestations such as their weight or their manner of dress, but also intangible ways like their speech, or conduct, or comportment. For instance, it might be said about a person who left a position at a weekly newspaper in an urban village whom you happen on a couple of years later looking tanned, wearing his sunglasses indoors, name-dropping famous Hollywood …
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People change. It is common when you have known a person in a certain period of your life and then encounter them in another years later, that you pick up on alterations not only in their outward appearance, which can be obvious manifestations such as their weight or their manner of dress, but also intangible ways like their speech, or conduct, or comportment. For instance, it might be said about a person who left a position at a weekly newspaper in an urban village whom you happen on a couple of years later looking tanned, wearing his sunglasses indoors, name-dropping famous Hollywood producers and acting arrogant, that “he went all Hollywood.”
Well, except for the healthy glow and the sunglasses, that person could be me. Some of you may remember me as publisher of “The Local” from 2018 to 2023. For the past couple of years, I have been working for the Pennsylvania NewsMedia Association in Harrisburg. But I have not been asked to write about that. The story I am sharing with you is about my unlikely involvement behind the scenes for the new hit Peacock TV series, “The Paper,” a spinoff of the “The Office.”
If you have ever searched “Greg Daniels + John Derr + The Paper” on Google... why would anyone do that? But regardless, if you did, you would get an AI summary referring to me as anything from an indispensable consultant to show creators Greg Daniels and Michael Koman to the unlikely inspiration for the series. By any reasonable standards, I am neither. I am just some guy who emailed a famous producer and asked him if I could help.
Early in 2024, I had read about an upcoming spinoff of “The Office.” At that point, not much was known other than the documentary crew that followed the lives of the Dunder-Mifflin employees for all those years was now creating a new workplace documentary, this time set in a struggling Midwest newspaper office.
I didn’t know much about the new show other than what I had read online. I knew that Daniels, who had adapted the British version of “The Office” for American television, was developing the new show. (He is also the co-creator of “Parks and Rec” and the Netflix series “Upload” and “Space Force,” among other credits.) I also knew that Daniels was meticulous about authenticity.
When Hollywood portrays a newspaper in a movie or television show, it typically confines its glamorization to the newsroom. That’s fine for “All the President’s Men” or “Spotlight,” or even “Lou Grant.” I mean, there’s no reason the circulation manager needs to be involved in taking down a president, exposing a church sex scandal, or placating Mrs. Pynchon, respectively.
No matter the size of the newspaper, but especially at small ones like the Local, the people in the other departments are not nameless, faceless, off-screen entities. They are all contributing and interacting (still respecting the necessary church and state divide) with each other for the good of (and in many cases, the survival of) the publication.
So, on a whim, in July 2024, I wrote to Daniels. I figured he probably receives a thousand emails a day. I asked ChatGPT to give me some suggestions for attention-getting opening lines of emails. Here’s what I used:
“After a recent breakthrough, I think we might be on the verge of something incredible — and I wanted you to be the first to know!”
Here was my second line:
“None of that is true. Actually, that is what ChatGPT suggested I use as the first line of my email to grab your interest and make you want to read more. There is no breakthrough ...”
I went on to tell him about my 30-year career in newspapers, that I was a big fan of “The Office,” that I’d be happy to consult for free (unless he insisted otherwise) just for the new experience. To me, it was like sending a message in a bottle. I hoped I would get a response, but didn’t expect to.
A couple of weeks passed with no reply, so I thought I’d just give it one more go. I re-sent the original email with a short note which read: “I know my offer is a long shot, but I thought I would re-send my previous email in case you had not seen it, or something nefarious happened to it.”
The next day, there was a message in my Gmail inbox from Daniels. He said he had forwarded my note to the line producer and thought he had contacted me. He said he’d look into it.
The following Monday, my cell phone buzzed. It was the line producer, Matthew Nodella, an Emmy-winning producer best known for “Northern Exposure” and “Brooklyn Nine-Nine.” We talked for a while. He needed to make sure I wasn’t some crackpot. Despite his findings, he said I should expect to receive a Technical Consultant Agreement and nondisclosure agreement via email from Universal Television LLC.
You know how they say, “you can’t take it with you,” regarding bringing your money and properties with you into the afterlife? Well, the NDA/Technical Consultant Agreement spelled out that, if I should somehow happen to leak any information about “The Paper” to the press or rival networks or even my therapist, not only would I have no worldly possessions to “take with me,” but also Universal Television LLC lawyers would have the right to follow me into the great beyond and seize any treasures I had stored in heaven. And then they would escort me to hell. That’s how I read it anyway.
Once all the paperwork was taken care of, I was ready to start consulting. By this time, I had let my imagination run wild. Would they be flying me to Hollywood? Would I be on the set? Would I have my own chair with my name on the back, like Spielberg’s?
So it wasn’t exactly how I had envisioned it, but in the early evening of Oct. 18, 2024, I sat alone at a desk in a spare bedroom in my home in Lancaster, on a Zoom call with members of “The Paper” writing team 2,644 miles away in Los Angeles. For about 90 minutes or so, the writing team asked questions about various aspects of the jobs I’ve had and about interactions among newspaper department staff members, etc.
More than six months passed, and I had been reading more and more information about “The Paper” in what we in the industry call “the trades.” I had not been consulted on any of it, so I decided to reach out once again to Daniels. A couple of weeks later, I received a note from him, asking a very specific inquiry about state journalism awards! I was able to give him a super long, very detailed answer to a yes or no question.
There were a few other email back-and-forths, the last of which invited me to let him know what I thought of “The Paper” after the premiere on Peacock on Sept. 4. All 10 episodes were released that day. By the end of that weekend, I had consumed them all.
So what did I think? First, I could see my fingerprints all over it. For instance, I described the typical circulation manager at a newspaper as usually older, often grizzled, characteristically cynical, and frequently male. In “The Paper,” the circulation manager is a young, emotionally unavailable Asian woman.
But, like all of the characters and the casting in the show, it works. It is laugh-out-loud funny!
In a few interviews promoting “The Paper,” Daniels and Koman have mentioned my name. That’s why a Google search AI summary links me to the show. If you haven’t checked out “The Paper” yet, all 10 episodes are available on Peacock. Or you can get a free 7-day trial on Prime. If you don’t have Prime, what’s your problem?
“The Paper” has already been renewed for a second season.
John Derr is the former publisher of the Chestnut Hill Local. He is also the author of “Another Christmas Carol: A Modern Sequel to the Charles Dickens Classic,” which is set in Chestnut Hill.