Dear Aaron Sorkin,

I have recently rewatched all 7 seasons of The West Wing and I have come to the dramatic and regretful conclusion that you are an ass. After 4 seasons of writing one of the most well-regarded and rewarded television show in history, you leave. You leave without having given your writers a legitimate opportunity to learn and replicate your impressive style. And credit where credit is due, you can write a biting, comprehensive, and poignant sentence better than any television writer I’ve ever seen. Instead of passing along your wisdom, you chose to write nearly ever episode in 4 consecutive seasons. Under the workload and stress of maintaining that grueling pace, you start turning in work later and later until the most popular show on television is losing money over your stubborn belief that no one could write your show, until it was more reasonable to continue the show in your absence. Whether or not most of this reported information is true (according to various sources on the internet, this is the true and abbreviated version of events), you left after 4 seasons, leaving a talented crew and cast stranded.

Watching The West Wing the first time through, I heard that your absence noted the real end of the show. Apparently the 5th, 6th, and 7th seasons were a hollow shell of the mighty Sorkin years. I admit that the 5th season was pretty rough, which I attribute to a team of writers who knew their characters but had no experience writing for them. You sound nonchalant on your season 4 finale commentary of “Twenty Five” but did you really expect a cliffhanger and a couple leading subplots would be all that the remaining writers needed to continue the story of the Bartlet administration? Seriously?

Having rewatched the series, I see that the writers attempted to recreate your winding sentences that pulled an unexpected and morally superior final punch. But story lines deflated, episodes seemed emptier, and the tremendous cast felt small, while the writers waded in Daddy Sorkin’s shoes, wobbling and tripping, attempting the impossible task of recreating an energy that you never took the time to teach them. It wasn’t until the Santos Presidential Campaign that the writers shook off the witty, pontificating, character stagnation of the Sorkin era that The West Wing found its footing again.

And thank goodness it did! My initial viewing of The West Wing left me missing the witty comebacks and puppy dog cuteness of the characters after season 4. The second time around in as many years, I found that the strength and gravitas of Alan Alda’s Arnold Vinnick and Jimmy Smits’ Matthew Santos far surpassed the adorableness of the first four years. (Yes, I realize that Martin Sheen drips gravitas, but the physicality of Alda and Smits, coupled with their desperate desire to win the election trumps the regality of Bartlet’s elegant speeches and fists of explicit fury.) Even the male supporting cast (Rob Lowe, Richard Schiff, John Spencer, and Bradley Whitford), whom I all love resolutely, appeared to be witty softies. They only used legislative determination when the job called for it, but their report and physicality seemed more reassuring than rallying.

It was in the 6th and 7th season, when the writers took to the time to introduce newer, stronger characters whose goals were to become some one they weren’t (President) that inspired a surge of character development. Santos and Vinnick’s drive pushed the rest of the characters to grow and reevaluate, more so than in any of the Sorkin years. For me, the mark of the a good television show, be it sitcom, genre, drama, or action show, is whether or not at the end of the series I feel like these characters have changed, developed, grown. After the first four years of The West Wing, I didn’t see that. After three more years under the guidance of John Wells, Christopher Misiano, and Alex Graves, I saw how much Donna Moss (Janel Maloney), Will Bailey (Joshua Malina), and C.J. Cregg (the radiant Allison Janney) had grown.

Amidst my praise, I really only have one issue with the plot post-Sorkin–why on earth did it take another two and a half years to get to a Donna and Josh kiss? (At least after making us wait for six and a half years, they delivered, what I believe to be the best first kiss in television history, brilliantly set to a Dizzy Gillespie song). I didn’t watch The West Wing looking for reality, and I didn’t want to see Donna and Josh try to navigate the more truthful reality of co-workers attempting to date.

The character growth and focus on plot-driven drama of a President campaign instead of character-driven drama created a necessary new feel to The West Wing. The focus on the campaign was brilliant, and after the budget cuts which restricted the number of episodes each series regular appeared in, essentially created a spin off of The West Wing. The final two seasons are a good example to current shows of how to organically develop and introduce a successful spin off.

Aaron, I apologize for going a little off topic, touting the successes of the final years of the show you created and abandoned, instead of bashing your creative and personal decisions (of which I have no right). For all the wrong I excessively feel you have done, I must commend you on creating a show I feel so passionately about, on creating such a strong female character in C.J. Cregg, and creating a program that elevates the discussion and knowledge of U.S. government in our country. Only the best shows make me want to start from the beginning after watching the series finale, to see again how it all began.

With love and spite,
Caitlyn