Adaptations are attractive to producers for a variety of reasons. In many cases, audiences for such fare are “pre- sold,” having purchased or read the original text or having heard of the work through word of mouth. Sources for adapted works may come from public domain materials drawn from classical literary sources, or, more frequently, from hotly pursued novels by best-selling writers. Authors such as Judith Krantz, John Jakes, Alex Haley, and Stephen King have solid book sales and loyal audiences; adaptations of their works typically generate good ratings and audience share. Synergy between book publishers and networks may also be a factor in the purchasing or optioning of works for adaptation; a successful miniseries can prolong the life of a book currently in print and may resurrect older books that are out of print or no longer readily available in the mass market. When Herman Wouk’s War and Remembrance was adapted in 1988, not only were that book’s sales improved but an unexpected million copies of the first book in the series, The Winds of War, were also ordered.

Another reason for television’s reliance on adaptations, especially in the form of miniseries, is the lack of good scripts, along with television’s voracious need for sponsor-attractive, time slot-filling product. Few mini-series are produced from wholly original concepts; experts estimate that 75 to 90 percent of all miniseries use novels for source material. Novels have overcome basic, yet essential dilemmas in constructing narratives: they have well-defined characters; interwoven subplots filled with ideas and events that can be rearranged, highlighted, or deleted by scriptwriters; and enough story for at least two hours of product. A producer holding something complete and tangible, in the form of an already written story, can feel more confident when searching for financing; in turn, sponsors and networks are more likely to commit money and resources to a finished property, even one that is not yet a best-seller. Consequently, producers option many books that are never produced for television or film, in the belief that some of these unknown and untried works may become popular.

What producers see as a “sure thing,” however, professional screenwriters often view as a challenge. Adaptation is far more than slavishly reproducing a previously constructed story in a different format. The requirements of the two forms are significantly different. From the perspective of screenwriters, novels take characters and subplots and let them careen willy-nilly into unstructured chaos. Screenwriters rearrange and augment material to stress the visual and storytelling requirements of the television medium. They purge the script of unnecessary characters or combine the traits and experiences of several characters into one. They try to structure the script so it moves from crisis to crisis, keeping in mind the constraints imposed by the presence of commercial breaks. They find opportunities to make the internal world of thoughts and feelings more external, through dialogue and action. The process of adaptation requires a level of creativity that may be equal to that expended in the writing of the source material, as writers hone, pare, expand, and modify concepts from one medium to the other.

Possibly the most frequently adapted works are those of William Shakespeare; the BBC produced adaptations of MacBeth as early as 1949 and as late as 1983. These adaptations take many forms; PBS’s 2001 adaptations of The Merchant of Venice and Othello were updated with contemporary settings and costumes. HBO has created a series of short animations for middle school-age viewers based on the Bard, and popular shows as diverse as Star Trek, The Simpsons, and Clueless have derived individual episodes from Shakespearean plays.

Because novels frequently include dozens of characters interacting over extended periods of time, screen- writers often find the miniseries format essential in marshaling the scope and flavor of the original text. PBS, considered the “godfather” of the miniseries, introduced the United States to the concept of long-form sagas with its imports of British productions, presented in such series as Masterpiece Theatre, Mystery, and Great Performances. The audience for upscale adaptations of The Forsyte Saga, Brideshead Revisited, and The First Churchills was small, but the form was successful enough to encourage the adaptation of more popular, less highbrow novels such as Irwin Shaw’s Rich Man, Poor Man (ABC, 1976–77). It was the phenomenal success of Alex Haley’s Roots, a 12-hour adaptation broadcast over eight consecutive evenings in 1977, however, which cemented this form of adaptation and established it as a staple of television production.

Most genres of television have had their adaptations: children’s programming (Showtime’s 1982–87 Faerie Tale Theater; NBC’s 1996 Gulliver’s Travels); the western (CBS’s 1989 Lonesome Dove); historical romance (NBC’s 1980 Shogun; ABC’s 1985–86 North and South); science fiction (episodes of CBS’s 1959–64 The Twilight Zone) are a few of the genres featured in outstanding adaptations produced for television. The adaptation continues to be popular, lucrative, and entertaining; as long as the genre holds an audience, this narrative form will remain an essential element in broadcasting.