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I think you should listen to an episode of This American Life called Tough Room that includes a fascinating visit to the offices of The Onion, including an actual
session in the room, and lots of discussion about which jokes work and which don’t.

I recommend that you listen to this segment. This room feels very similar to some comedy rooms I’ve been in and very different from others, but even if you’re just sitting at home writing jokes to put into your spec script, I think you’ll find it useful for jump-starting your own thinking about what makes a joke work.

I particularly enjoy the discussion of the joke “Thirsty Mayor Drinks Town’s Entire Water Supply.” The hypothesis is that the joke works because it’s actually not randomly silly, but is instead a silly version of a story about misappropriation of public resources. The joke works because it means something.

There is also a wonderful discussion of why the proposed headline, “Nation’s Girlfriends Complain about Lack Of Quality Time,” feels tired, while “Local Man Complains Girlfriend Always Wanting to do Stuff” works, even though they appear to be the same joke.

The answer is that the first version is nothing more than a very old observation about women’s demands while in relationships, while the second version is a less-used joke about a very specific kind of man who prefers not to go out and engage in activities. Yes. That sounds like the right analysis to me — I love it when logic agrees with instinct.

Follow the link. You’ll get room experience just from listening.

Lunch: the “Mexican Scramble” at Jerry’s Deli

I dined with a former colleague last night before the WGA meeting, and she mentioned that she was interested in trying her hand at writing radio plays. Well, guess what I pulled out of the mailbag this evening? A letter from Loyal Reader Branko, directing my attention to this site. Say!

The link is to a BBC writing development program called “Writersroom”. They say “Writersroom is constantly on the lookout for writers of any age and experience who show real potential for the BBC. We accept and read unsolicited scripts for film, TV and radio drama, TV and radio narrative comedy and theatre.

I’ve poked around through the links there for a little while and I don’t see a mention of a UK citizenship requirement. Maybe I’m crazy, but it seems to me that there may be brave souls here in the US, and other Gentle Readers overseas who might want to look into what seems like a prime opportunity. Now, it’s a development program; they’re hoping to create writers who will stay and work for the BBC, not ones who will run off to Hollywood, so keep that in mind, but if you’re looking to write professionally and would find London a desirable destination, well… meet your open door.

I’m charmed by the wide variety of types of scripts that are accepted. Radio drama! Mmm.

Lunch: stuffed jalapenos at Jack in the Box

Periodically, I talk about “clams,” overused jokes that should be excised from your writing. I’m talking about (singsong) “Awkward!” and its sweaty companions “That went well” and “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” and so forth.

There’s a related phenomenon that has bugged me for a long time, but that I haven’t commented on before. These aren’t overused jokes, exactly, but overused timing devices that get built into jokes. Look at this line, which might well occur in a sitcom spec script:

She was, how shall I put this, a well-rounded applicant.

Believe it or not, the thing that bugs me here isn’t the punishing use of “well-rounded.” I’m numb to that. What bothers me is the “how shall I put this.” That little phrase is there to time the joke, to delay the punch so it lands harder. It drumrolls the joke instead of throwing it away. Since this little phrase is never used (at least never in comedy scripts) by a character genuinely searching for the right word without a comedic payoff, it always feels like a self-conscious request for a laugh. No! Don’t beg!

Other examples, identical in intent, include “what’s the word I’m looking for,” which seems to me even more blatant, and “how you say,” which is reserved for characters with thick foreign accents. Oh my.

A similar device, used more by pundits than sitcom writers, is to claim “pun not intended” immediately before or after cracking a pun, thereby calling attention to it. I’ve got nothing against a clever pun, but I think they’re best dealt smoothly from your hand and placed softly on the table without fanfare.

Lunch: Ribs USA. Have I told you about their French fries drenched in hot-wings sauce? Go there at once.

Another action-packed day on the picket line today, Gentle Readers. I was at my new default location, Fox, which was also home to the SAG/WGA Unity picket today. What a mob scene! Speeches! Writers! Dogs! Wind! Batemans!

The wind was fierce, snapping Joss Whedon’s picket stick and sending the sign whipping backwards where it narrowly missed taking out 20 plus or minus 5 percent of the staff of Numb3rs.

I had a long and interesting conversation about comedy with another former colleague. We talked a bit about the comedy gold that comes with smart people acting stupid. Thinking about it later, it seems to me that the key concept might be “pettiness.” The whole idea of focusing on something small, especially in the face of larger problems, is funny and identifiable. It’s hard to find a comedic supporting character of the Frank Burns or Ted Baxter variety who isn’t petty. But often the best moments of comedic leads, who have to be more likable, come from this same trait, as well. Frasier’s need to appear sophisticated, Jamie’s desire to be liked by her neighbors on Mad About You, Jerry’s every move on Seinfeld… they came out of a highly focused need that from the outside appears petty. It’s not an alienating quality like jealousy or meanness. It’s highly identifiable and the nature of what prompts the pettiness tells the audience huge amounts about the character.

If you’re struggling with a comedy script because you’re having a hard time making a central character both flawed and likable, ask yourself the question, “What would make this character act petty?” It’s a variant on “What do they want?” that could put you on a humorous path.

If you want more comedy advice, I’ve got the place for you. I hear that “Teaching Thursday” over on the Warner Brothers’ picket line is a huge success so far. Here’s an update from the organizers:

For our second Teaching Thursday hilarity will ensue! It’s MULTI-CAMERA COMEDY DAY! Not sure how to write for geeks when you’re tragically hip? The cool kids from “The Big Bang Theory” have answers! Want to know how to get your own personal studio audience? Writers from “The War At Home” know! And remember: If it rains on our heads, it’s tragic. If it rains on yours, it’s comedy gold!

MULTI-CAMERA COMEDY DAY: Thursday January 31st, 9 AM-12 PM, Warner Bros Gate 2.

I won’t be there for this event, although I plan to join in when and if they conduct a “light drama” or “vampire slaying” or “spaceship” day.

Lunch: sushi at Echigo again. Warrrrm rice.

Want another way into the business? I now know of two playwrights who were — get this — invited into television.

One of them was a colleague of mine from the ABC/Disney writers’ program, and the other was a young woman whom I met the other day on the picket line. Both of them were young playwrights recruited into television without them reaching out for it — someone with television connections attended a play and then things happened.

I don’t think this happens a lot, but it is certainly illustrative of a larger truth — if you want to write, go out and write. Write spec scripts for contests, look for writers’ assistant jobs, absolutely, but if you can also establish yourself as a respected writer of plays, short stories, novels, non-fiction books, essays, reviews, recaps, comedy pieces, columns, profiles or as a journalist, you will doing yourself a tremendous favor when it comes to making an impression in Hollywood. You probably won’t get recruited, as my two examples were, but then again, it’s certainly more likely than if you’re not out establishing yourself as some kind of a writer!

Lunch: quesadillas

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