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March 18th, 2008Friends of the Blog, From the Mailbag, On Writing, Pilots, Spec Scripts
Gentle Reader Lauren from Michigan writes in with a question I haven’t seen before. She asks,
I was wondering when you are writing a script if you should include what musical selection you think should be played over the course of the scene and if so, should you be so detailed as to indicate which lines of the song would correspond best to the mood? How would you represent this in the script or is it best not to explore that aspect at all?
Great question. This actually is something you can do as a writer, although you should use it only very rarely and very carefully.
It’s not unheard of to indicate a song that you’d like to hear in a scene. Here’s a (slightly edited) stage direction from my first draft of an Angel script I wrote: The radio turns on my itself and changes stations, landing on the Mills Brothers singing “You Always Hurt the One You Love.” A SHADOW falls across Cordelia’s bed. An old lady voice comes out of nowhere…
And I can certainly imagine the last scene of a pilot looking something like this:
EXT. COURTYARD
And there, amid the wreckage of the wedding reception gone horribly wrong, Billie Holiday’s version of “Embraceable You” wafts over the broken tables. Charles pulls Audrey into his arms. Here, finally, they get their wedding dance.
BILLIE HOLIDAY
I love all the many charms about you.
Above all, I want my arms about you…
Audrey laughs when Charles sings along for:
BILLIE HOLIDAY / CHARLES
Don’t be a naughty baby,
Come to me, come to me, do…We PULL BACK until they’re very small in the frame, and then we…
FADE OUTThere. See how that could work? Of course, in the examples, the songs were actually part of the scene, not laid on top, but you can do that, too. For example, you could do a big moving montage of, say, all your characters going about their lives, like in the finale of The Wire, and indicate a song to play over it, perhaps even indicating which lines play under each image. It might be lovely, and would probably be scripted similarly to my example above, with the lyrics presented in dialog form.
But be very careful. I wouldn’t do any indication of specific lyrics if there were any dialogue in the scene, for example. And even in a silent scene, there’s going to be a tendency for lyrics to just make it seem too cute, too neat, too much like a “song fic,” if you know what I mean.
If you really want to, give it a try and map out the scene with the lyrics, but I bet you end up editing them out later. At the very least they’re frosting, and you’re going to want that room for more actual cake.
Lunch: Garlic chicken and a banana milkshake from Versailles, a Cuban restaurant. So wonderful!
ADDENDUM: The amazing Friend-of-the-Blog Wendy Wallace, an experienced producer, writes in with this observation from her end of the process: I just wanted to give a producer’s perspective on using songs & song lyrics in scripts. While it may not be pertinent for specs, I would remind your gentle readers that any songs used and/or any lyrics spoken by actors must be cleared & licensed accordingly before a script can be produced. Sometimes this is not a problem, but there are occasions where a song is unlicensable for whatever reason, necessitating either a complete revamp of the scene, last-minute shoe-horning of a different song into the existing scene (often not as fitting), or worse–a shelving of the script altogether. I’m not suggesting “never mention music in a script ever” as I’ve seen it used quite effectively, I would just encourage screenwriters–especially first-timers–to keep in mind the larger implications of their musical choices.
Wendy is right that this doesn’t have to affect writers of purely speculative scripts, although I will point out that a spec script loaded with expensive music requirements isn’t going to impress a reader with your ability to write to a budget.
Thank you, Wendy!
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March 17th, 2008Friends of the Blog, From the Mailbag, On Writing
I think this has happened before. It seems like every time I post something here that seems to close a door, I get an email from a friend with a way to open it back up. Fantastic.
After my post about how sending an agent a letter probably wasn’t a workable avenue to job-having, I received the following communication from working writer and Friend-of-the-Blog, Gillian Horvath. Take it, Gillian!
I did get my first agent by sending a letter to someone I’d never met. I was at that time a young aspiring writer without a script sale. It wasn’t entirely a “cold call” — the agent had been recommended to me by a mutual acquaintance — but there was no personal connection. It was the letter that got me in the door to be read, and met, and signed.
There are two keys to this approach, I think. One is that you don’t send a query letter and wait to be asked for the script, the way prose writers do with literary agents. Your letter is more of a cover letter, with the script right there in the envelope, so that if the letter piques their interest they can flip open the script and read a few pages right then and there. (Be prepared to spend money on copying and postage that you will never see back, because of course many times that whole envelope is going straight into the recycling.)
The other key thing to be aware of is that there has to be something in that letter that sets you apart from everyone else in the pile. Not your script — you. What you’re selling them on is not the enclosed script — not its premise, not its quality, not its saleability — but you. This is the direct opposite of query letters for prose manuscripts, where it’s all about the project, and details about the author are discouraged.
The letter is your chance to convince the agent that you are going to make money for them — that you are committed to making a career, and that you are putting so much work into it that their job will be easy. In my cover letter, I was able to mention various contacts I had made and promising leads I’d created. I’d made those contacts by working as an intern and assistant around town, but I think the important thing isn’t the specifics of my progress — it’s the fact that I used the letter to report on that progress. I was able to realistically portray myself as on the cusp of selling, so the agent I’d approached could see the potential for getting a commission soon. That made it worth her time to consider my spec.
In a post-script, Gillian adds: Typing up the story really got me thinking about that transitional moment when I realized that you can’t approach an agent hunt (or a pitch meeting, or a job interview) as a complete supplicant. No one signs you because they want to do you a favor, right? They sign you — or hire you — because it’s going to be good for them.
So there you go, Nic in Germany and everyone else… excellent advice from someone who found a door that I didn’t even know was there. Inspiring! And that final observation is a huge one — when you’re dreaming about your big break, stop framing it as, “how can I get someone to do me a huge favor?” and start framing it as, “how can I make the case for what I have to offer?” (Then, don’t argue the case, build the case.)
Lunch: chicken soft tacos from Del Taco. As always, opt for the Del Scorcho sauce.
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January 14th, 2008Friends of the Blog, On Writing, Pilots
A Friend-of-the-Blog is writing a spec pilot that he described as Friday Night Lights in a _____ (noun omitted to protect his idea). He recently asked me a question about plotting this pilot. He wanted to know how much plot to put in those first few pages versus how much pure character development. As I think about this now, it occurs to me that there’s no reason that those of you writing spec pilots can’t take advantage of the same system I recommend for those of you writing specs for established shows. By which I mean: look at an example.
If you want your pilot to have the feel of Friday Night Lights… why not look at the FNL pilot? How did they establish the mood, story, characters when they were at square one? There’s nothing wrong with learning from those writers who’ve gone before you. A quick look at ebay reveals there’s a copy of that very script for sale, and that’s after a two-second search. For all I know, the script, or a transcript, is available elsewhere on line for free.
Want your spec pilot to have the mood of House? Grey’s Anatomy? Ugly Betty? I would highly recommend taking a squint at those shows’ pilots. Maybe you’ll like what you see, maybe not, but you’ll certainly learn a lot from contemplating why those shows’ creators made the choices they did in introducing their premises and characters. Don’t lift scenes or words, obviously, but check out where they start their story, how early they establish back stories, how soon the central hook of the show is made evident… all that good stuff is right there to be studied.
Lunch: a chicken salad sandwich from that cute little grocery store in the canyon on Beverly Glen.
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December 19th, 2007Friends of the Blog, From the Mailbag, On Writing, Spec Scripts
… I tackled a question about spec scripts for highly-serialized shows. A Gentle Reader wanted to know if they should include a sort of “previously on ___” for the top of their script, to help place the episode in context. I came down against anything but the briefest of place-setters, and threw open the question to anyone in a position to know the answer, especially someone who knew how the readers at a writing fellowship would approach the issue. And… ta da… someone stepped forward. This is the response I got from Friend-of-the-Blog Derek Olson, who is part of the team over at the ABC/Disney fellowship. Take it, Derek!
Hi Jane,
I was just catching up on your blog and I saw an open question you posted about the best way to inform readers of when a spec takes place in the world of a serialized show.
In speaking for our Fellowship readers, we do our best to make sure that readers only evaluate specs of shows they are very familiar with. So they are pretty good at stepping into a serialized spec and knowing exactly when it takes place. All it takes is a reference to a landmark event in the series or even just opening on a logical next step in a storyline. As I’m sure you know there are lots of cues you can give someone who follows the show.
It’s definitely a muddier situation when we are on the other side of the fence. Once Fellows enter the program, we begin submitting their work to executives, showrunners and agents. Of course they all have varying degrees of familiarity with specific shows.
The catch-all solution is to have the writer assume the reader has very little knowledge of the show. And as much as it might seem like a good idea to cheat the traditional format and slap on a “Previously On” segment or TV Guide-like blurb to get the reader up to speed, it just never really feels right. Somehow it always feels as if the prologue was meant to spackle over cracks in the script that weren’t addressed the first time through. So we avoid it altogether when sending out Fellows’ work. Not to say we’re 100% correct and it’s always the wrong idea, it’s just our philosophy that we never want a Fellow’s script to get a ding before the reader hits page one.
So most of the time we leave it up to our writers to use their normal devices. Slipping exposition into an argument between two characters, having a character bring a lesser-informed character up to speed, etc. It can be cumbersome but the best writers can pull it off beautifully.
One exception however, is that if I know the person we are submitting to is a fan of the show, I will let the writer know that they have the greenlight to submit an “expert” version of the script. The writer can then feel free to remove exposition from the top of storylines or trim some over-explaining that happens along the way.
Hope this helps…feel free to summarize, paraphrase, chop and mangle if you would like to post this.
Derek
No mangling necessary. I hope that answers any questions out there. Looks like you should ditch the “previouslies”!
Lunch: a Baby Ruth bar eaten during the substantial wait at City Hall today between meetings to discuss the financial impact of the AMPTP’s absence from the negotiations. Baby Ruth is a fine product.
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December 10th, 2007Friends of the Blog, From the Mailbag, On Writing
I’m back from the Trek picket at Paramount. Again, there was a crazy wall-to-wall turnout of supporters, fans, and magnificent alumni. I was thrilled to get to see my old friend Armin Shimerman, whom I’ve been able to write for both as Quark and as Principal Snyder on Buffy. I also got to meet Trek actors including Brent Spiner and Nichelle Nichols. I heartily thanked David Gerrold, the writer of “The Trouble with Tribbles,” who pioneered the business of coming in to write “the funny one,” a model I’ve tried to follow in my own writing career. And, get this, when I retired to Lucy’s El Adobe for lunch following the picket, whom did I find? George Takei and Walter Koenig, lunching together. Holy cats, fellow Trekkers. Can you imagine? Sulu and Chekhov, sharing chips and salsa. I was undone.
So, I had exciting first-meets, and charming reunions with old friends (much of the Tru Calling writing staff was there — go figure), but the best part, as always, was meeting you, Gentle Readers. Many of you found me and made an effort to say hello and introduce yourselves. The fact that you support the writers warms my heart. We’re staying strong out there largely because we know you’re with us in this. Thank you so much.
Tomorrow, I’m going to be at Warner Brothers (probably Gate 2) with other women genre writers starting at 8 am. Look for the pink hats. It’s also “bring an actor friend” to the line day, so I’m hoping to have a surprise guest with me. Come by to see who it is!
In other strike news, check this out. It’s a very interesting piece from United Hollywood that might help you think of ways you can help, even if you’re too far away to come join us on the line.
In non-strike news, you can also check this other thing out. It’s another interview with me, this time done by the fine people at SpaceWesterns.com, who asked some interesting questions that made me think very hard.
Finally, I have to point out another prime example of refurbishing a clam (an over-used joke). You remember, I’m sure, extensive conversations we’ve had before about “Good day… I said good day, sir!” I was surprised and interested to hear a variant of this joke on 30 Rock the other night. This version went:
Person One: I said good day!
Person Two: No, you didn’t.
Person One: Well, I meant to.
It’s an interesting attempt to freshen up a familiar joke by making the person deliver it incorrectly. I’m not sure it was entirely successful, but I give it points for taking on such a difficult task.
Lunch: Guac, salsa, chips… eaten while watching childhood icons.