In the beginning days of feminism, early 1970s, even after Betty Friedan gave it a name in her groundbreaking book, The Feminine Mystique, many women of America were discovering their own voices, but not on Television. The only comediennes were either second bananas, like Rose Marie or Imogene Coca, and neither was known for her looks. Lucille Ball was a comedy icon and businesswoman, but her characters were more slapstick. Finally, Marlo Thomas broke the mold with her unmarried career woman, Ann Marie in That Girl. I had just started writing with a partner, Iris Rainer Dart, and we got a plum assignment on that show. Shaking in our boots, as the producers were intimidating older guys with cigars, as I recall, we pitched a script about Ann Marie’s engagement party — all of the other writers were men, too, and probably had not been to one! They bought it, to our surprise. But Marlo, in her fierce defense of her character, eventually decided not to get married on the show, and they didn’t shoot our script. Then, I saw The Mary Tyler Moore Show air midseason. It was about a single 30-year-old woman with a job at a local news show in Minneapolis. An independent working woman was a totally new concept in the world of network television, and I wanted in. By then, I was working alone and I called my manager, the comedy legend, the late Garry Marshall. I begged him to get me in there since I thought I could write for it. After all, I was a Midwestern girl — Milwaukee, not Minneapolis — but people always confused them. I had also worked in the publicity department of a small local TV station. Ok, it was in Los Angeles, but still. Garry got me in there, and to my surprise, the executive producers, Jim Brooks and Allan Burns, were not only eager to hear my stories, but looking for female writers, which was mostly unheard of then. I pitched stories from my own life, things that all women had experienced, but were fresh to the men. I also was so naïve, I thought you weren’t allowed to make stories up; they had to be true. Yeah. They said if we get picked up for a full season, you will be the first one we call in. They had been given a Tuesday-night slot at CBS, which did not have a lot of faith in a show about a woman who was not married nor dying to be. Then of course, it was a hit, though not instantly. When they moved it to Saturday night, it became "must-see TV" for the whole country.