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Hi. I have received a special request (from friend-of-the-blog Maggie) to talk about what I call “novelty specs.” What I’m referring to are specs written for shows not currently on the air. For example, a spec I Love Lucy or Mary Tyler Moore Show or Taxi or Dragnet or Hill Street Blues. The first thing to note, is that these cannot be used to apply for the ABC Writers’ Fellowship. Their rules clearly state that your spec has to be for a show currently on the air. But the fellowship isn’t the only fish in the supermarket. Specs are also used to get actual writing jobs.

I have yet to be in the position of reading spec scripts with an eye to hiring a writing staff. But a lot of people whom I know have done exactly that. So I sent out an email to a selection of show-runner types, asking for their opinion of novelty specs. Their answers were so interesting and thought-provoking that this is going to be a multi-posting discussion. It’s just so fun!

First up, (ta-da!) Joss Whedon! Joss, what’s your opinion on novelty specs?

Joss: “The problem is, no matter how good the show might have been, it’s bound to be a bit archaic in its dialogue (and possibly subject) which leads to the question: is this person just aping an era that’s over, or are they writing a postmodern reaction to their perception of what that show (and era) was like? The first is just a stunt, and the second could be interesting but requires explanation. Most show-runners don’t have time for explanations. So while it’s always fun to read something that’s not what everyone else is writing, this scenario is dangerous for anyone who’s not damn sure of themselves.”

It’s crucial to understand the two approaches that he’s talking about. Suppose you decide to write a Mary Tyler Moore Show episode. You could write a sort of “lost episode” (this is the “stunt” option). The story could be something like, “Mary and Lou temporarily change jobs, creating a hilarious shift in power in the newsroom.” Or maybe something better. That was off the top of my head. The point is, this is an episode the original staff COULD have done, but did not (unless they did and I missed it). This would demonstrate your abilities, but not in as relevant a way as if you’d just done the same thing for a contemporary show.

It’s the second option that makes things interesting. The postmodern option. It’s not for the faint of brain. It’s a risk. It’s a challenge. It is, as Joss points out, “dangerous.” And even if you pull it off, it couldn’t be your primary spec. And yet… mmm… there is allure.

Maybe you’re wondering what such an effort would even look like. You will find out in my next blog entry, which will have other show-runner insights and which will contain a description of a scene from a very dirty spec episode of “That Girl.” You know you don’t want to miss that.

Lunch: a veggie burger. Not bad. It wasn’t trying to pretend to be meat. It was doing its own thing.

A few politically-oriented web sites run by friends of mine have kindly linked to this humble blog. As a result, I understand that I’m getting some new visitors, all a-staggering in and blinking around at the non-political content in confusion. So I’ve decided to address the issue of politics in the writers’ room.

The general assumption seems to be that the creative forces in Hollywood are uniformly liberal and liberally uniform. And certainly, I’ve met more writers who identify themselves as democrats than those who identify themselves as republicans. But it’s not a hundred percent. Not nearly. And on almost every show in my career, I’ve found myself in a political argument at some point with someone to the right of me. (To the political right I mean, although in half the cases they were also literally to the right of me.) Sometimes these writers self-identified as conservative. But usually they thought of themselves as liberal, but just felt that “some people” “took things” “too far.”

I think this is because comedy writers tend to see sensitivity to the feelings of others as anti-comedic. Political correctness is the enemy of funny, they declare. If we eliminate jokes at the expense of those who are different than us, we’ll be left shivering and naked in a comedy landscape made of nothing but self-deprecation and puns. This is nonsense, of course. Any joke that’s only funny after you’ve glanced around the room to check the demographics, is probably not a joke worth telling. And I don’t just say this because such jokes are mean-spirited. Although that would be reason enough. Here’s why I say this:

Racist/sexist/homophobic jokes in fact tend NOT to be funny not only because they cause pain, but because they are bombs instead of scalpels. A joke that pokes fun at a person is sharpest, funniest, when it finds that perfect detail, the most subtle observation of what sets that person apart. Someone’s race or gender is unlikely to be the most subtle thing about them, and certainly it’s not the most specific.

This is the same as the difference between the truly talented impersonator and some guy who just “does accents.” One trades in the specific and one in the general.

I mentioned Jane Austen in another post. She was a master at creating characters with tiny precise foibles which were observed and punctured by other characters, also created by her. Fantastic. You know who else did this well? Frasier. M*A*S*H. Mary Tyler Moore. Ellen. Buffy. Get precise! It’s funny!

My lunch: Chicken noodle soup and a baked apple!

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