JaneEspenson.com

Yesterday, I got to go to a Jake in Progress reunion brunch. A quorum of writers got together, ate breakfast meats, drank mimosas, and watched the episodes that have not yet aired. I can report that these eps are really good, folks. I’m very proud of what we did. The truth is, of course, that in order for a show to make it to the air, a zillion tiny things have to go right, and among them is the requirement that a show fit the network’s scheduling needs.

At least, that is currently among the requirements. If the era of downloading continues and grows, schedules may soon become charming antiques. Shows will be made available for downloading directly to your television, and you will design your own viewing schedule. And network programmers will create slates of shows with an eye toward making a distinctive brand, but without the constraints of timeslots and lead-ins and lead-outs. I’m very interested to see if this happens, and, if it does, how it affects what we TV writers do.

Already, the new dynamics are making parts of the spec writer’s life easier. Getting prepared to write a spec used to be a much harder process. I used to have two VCRs going every night, recording every show that I could imagine specing. Then, when I needed to start preparing to write the spec, I would sit down and watch a dozen eps that I had saved up just for this purpose. So much programming, so much labeling! It was quite a process. Now, a weekend of DVD viewing, downloading and on-line transcript/analysis reading can make a Battlestar Galactica expert out of any of us. (All of us, hopefully –what a show!)

All of this brings us to a question sent in by charming blog-reader Christine in San Francisco. She asks:

“Let’s say I want to write a spec for ‘How I Met Your Mother,’ that introduces one of the main character’s parents. Let’s say it’s Lily. There has never been an appearance by a parent on the show, but there may have been references in dialogue to Lily’s childhood or what kind of parents she has. Should I worry about this when writing her mother? If I need to take it into consideration, how would I even go about finding that out without having to cruise every single show-devotee’s website for details?”

Oh. Interesting. Unlike Galactica, ‘Mother’ is a show that doesn’t seem to have downloads available. It isn’t on the list of shows covered by televisionwithoutpity.com. Amazon lists a DVD, but describes it as ‘unavailable.’ A quick bit of Googling doesn’t reveal a wealth of transcripts. Comedies are a bit invisible right now, and they simply aren’t being documented in the way that dramas increasingly are. Christine finds herself in the dark ages here.

But do not fret! The truth is, Chris, that although ideally you would have seen every episode of the show, you don’t actually need to worry too much about any references to Lily’s Mom. This is where you benefit from a couple of truths about spec writing. First off, you aren’t going to be sending the spec to the producers of ‘How I Met You Mother,” but to agents, contest readers, and ultimately, producers of other shows. They are unlikely to know the show that much better than you do. And secondly, even if you’re unlucky enough that your script lands in front of the eyeballs of a reader who remembers a joke about Lily’s mother from some random episode, he or she is unlikely to dismiss a well-written spec on that basis. So you’re almost certainly all right on this account.

(Also, sometimes shows don’t even respect their own history on points like this… there are many examples of inconsistencies within produced shows, so it’s not always seen as a huge transgression.)

However, I will now make my standard facial expression of concern at hearing about a spec that features such a prominent guest character. Guest character specs, as I have spoken of before, are frequently problematic. They take focus off the regular characters, downplaying your ability to capture their voices and interactions. They are also, for some reason, one of the most popular choices for new writers, so your spec ends up competing against other “Lily’s Mom” specs.

So be cautious. But if you’ve got a killer idea, then don’t let my quizzical eyebrow stop you!

About your other question, the problem with public transport in LA isn’t that it’s dirty or ramshackle, but that it tends not to go where you need it to go – at least that’s the impression I’ve received. This remains, I’m afraid, very much a car city. All of you who are contemplating a move to LA should keep this in mind. When I got into the Disney Fellowship, one of the first things I did was sign up for driving lessons, to brush up my skills!

Lunch: My Jake-brunch was my lunch. Bacon, sausages, huge chocolate-chip cookies, mimosas!

I’ve had a couple chances this week to talk or get together with ex-colleagues from various shows. I had a wonderful lunch with Andrew Green from Jake in Progress, and a great dinner with Rich Hatem and Doris Egan from Tru Calling. These little reunions always remind me of how each writers’ room is a little culture unto itself. What is valued in that room may be very different than what is valued in another room. Some rooms are free-wheeling, with writers talk-thinking their way into an idea about a story. Others are quiet and thoughtful, where the succinctly-presented idea is more likely to shine. Some rooms are always all on a diet together. Other rooms are food snob rooms (oh, let’s not go to a chain restaurant, we might die of shame). Still others are filled with Build-a-Burger menus and pizza boxes.

And, always, rooms get some degree of their own vocabulary. Usually, something gets named after a writer. A joke run using repeated words might be named after a writer who favors that form, for example. Punny writing has been called “Espensonian,” which just makes giggle with delight. That kind of thing is inevitable as you get to know the writing preferences of people you spend long hours with. Sometimes the vocabulary is more ornate, requiring the kind of analysis used to explain Cockney rhyming slang. Conceptual meetings at Buffy were called Onions. [State of the Union -> State of the Onion -> Onion.]

And then there is “funneling.” This was a term we came up with on a sitcom I worked on very early in my career. It has turned out to be so useful that I have never forgotten it. It describes a writing technique that is used so often, to such good effect, that I’m a little surprised I’ve never heard of anyone else coming up with a name for it. Well, actually, I suppose they might have. Maybe there’s totally a well-known name for this, but I’ve never heard it. Here’s the technique.

Remember when we talked about intercutting between two scenes that are happening simultaneously? The hypothetical example had to with breaking up an unusually long party scene by repeatedly cutting away to another scene. Obviously, this technique is used all the time, even when neither scene was too long. You can use it to emphasize the irony of a certain two events occurring at the same time, for example. (While she was plotting his murder, he was planning her birthday party!! That kind of thing).

Anyway, there you are, cutting back and forth between two scenes, letting them comment on each other, both of them driving toward their respective blows. Many times you want a sense of acceleration here. So you start with longer chunks of each scene between each transition back to the other scene. Then with shorter pieces. Often ending with BOOM – the blow to one scene and then, BAM, the blow to the other scene. That is what we named funneling.

Sometimes the eventual tip of the funnel will be a collision between the two scenes. If one scene has been of someone in danger and the other has been of the people trying to rescue them, the funnel will end with the arrival of the rescuers. That’s a dramatic funnel. A comedic funnel will more likely end with something like two characters separately reaching decisions that we, the viewers, know will escalate their conflict. (Blow to scene one: Wife: “I’m going to demand my equal part of this marriage!” Blow to scene two: Husband: “I think I WILL buy that car without asking her advice!”)

You do not always have to do this. There are many examples, among my Buffy scripts, for instance, of intercut scenes which had no funneling pattern. But if you have scenes in which you would like to call the viewers’ attention to either an alignment or a contrast at the end of the scenes, add a funnel to your writing toolbox.

Lunch: beef and vegetables cooked shabu-shabu style — immersed in boiling water at the table. Yummy yummy.

Have you noticed the change in the air, that certain feeling that a new season is upon us? That’s right. It’s Pilot Season! Table reads are busting out all over!

A table read is a pre-filming exercise in which the actors sit around a table and read the entire script out loud. Writers and executives listen and use what they have heard to improve the script. When a table read is held before a pilot, it’s usually the first time that the actors have all assembled together, so you’re also looking for how they mesh together as an ensemble.

These events aren’t just called “table reads” out of tradition. There really is a big table at the center of the room. Usually just the actors, director and executive producers are actually seated the table. A wider circle of chairs surrounds the table. Everyone else, including non-exec-prod writers, sit in these chairs. This means that when you become a staff writer, you will spend some time looking directly at the backsides of a cast of actors. This often means you are privileged to an array of thong underpants. Try to stay focused.

Comedies always have table reads. Dramas sometimes do. (Gilmore Girls does. Buffy didn’t.) What I’m going to talk about applies to comedies and the funniest of the dramas. If you’re writing a 24, you don’t have to worry too much about this.

There’s an interesting thing that happens when an episode goes from being an script to being an oral performance: subtler aspects become clear. A joke that seemed hilarious on the page can feel heavy-handed when performed, while a subtler moment that just sort of sat there when read silently, can get a big laugh at the table. This effect gets even more pronounced when the actors get up on their feet on the stage. At Gilmore Girls and at Ellen, those two shows in particular, I was struck by how a subtle actress could take a simple observational moment and make it the biggest laugh at the table or at a run-through, with a tone of voice or a facial expression. When you’re working on a show, it’s worthwhile to remember that sometimes the funniest moments aren’t the hard jokes that shine like diamonds on the page.

But here’s the rub. You, as a young writer just starting out, are not writing a script to be performed. You’re writing a spec. All you have is the page. This is one of the ways in which the spec script system is imperfect. Really subtle emotional writing will be noticed, but really subtle joke writing might very well simply fade into the page. Use those produced scripts you’ve acquired as your guides for how many jokes to have on a page, and for how “jokey” those jokes should be. But if there’s any question in your mind, I would err toward the ha-ha-ha side.

In my opinion, it is probably better to be considered a funny writer who might have to be reined in, than to be considered a writer who will have to be pushed toward the funny.

Note to Nicole in Germany: I lost your address and cannot send you a script. Sorry! Check out scriptcity.net to order a Gilmore Girls in pdf form. You can even get one that I wrote! Thanks for the letter!

Lunch: Spicy noodles with pork from Noodle Planet, a wonderful place near UCLA. Noodle Planet. Even the name is satisfying.

It’s so cold here! Well, not really cold. But L.A. cold. I walked to a neaby mall yesterday without a jacket in hand, and had to take a cab home because it was too cold to walk back — seriously, it was like six blocks and it was unthinkable. Sometimes you’re halfway through an enterprise when you realize it’s gone badly off track.

The same thing may be happening to you. You’ve analyzed produced episodes. You’ve found a story that seems to fit the show’s prototype while genuinely saying something new. You’ve selected your act breaks. You’ve broken the story into scenes. And now you’re writing dialogue, actually watching the show take shape beneath your hands. At this point something starts to happen…

You start to hate your story. Really hate it. Just thinking about it makes your face burn with shame. This is normal. You can get through it. The first step is to try to articulate what’s feeling wrong about it.

Here’s a list of things that might be wrong. Does your script feel…

– Banal? An unemotional story that’s not about anything?
– Soapy? So full of event and reaction that it’s slipping into melodrama?
– Talky? Speechifying and banter with no drive?
– Calculated? So precisely engineered that it’s lost all spontaneity?
– Jokey? All quips and no heart?

Once you figure out what feels off, you can start deciding if you’re experiencing panic with a cause or panic without a cause. Either way, it’ll be okay. This is one of the wonderful things about spec writing — this episode will not be shoved in front of cameras in a week. You’ve got time to figure out what’s going on. Think about what feels wrong, and then, soon, we’ll talk about how to fix it. Or whether to start over entirely, which isn’t as bad as it sounds.

P.S. And if you aren’t hating your story? Well then. Never mind. Good for you.

Lunch: hot ‘n’ sour soup made from a packet, with noodles added on a whim. Zesty and starchy both!

I got another great note! This one is from Alex Epstein from the blog called Complications Ensue. Check it out! Great writing stuff — you’ll like it. Alex asks about the very non-standard act breaks that are used on Gilmore Girls. “Is there some secret dynamic?” He asks.

Fantastic observation. Gilmore Girls breaks almost every rule I can think of, and it still works. I find this completely fascinating. Here’s an example of what Alex is talking about.

I wrote a Gilmore episode called “The Reigning Lorelai.” This was an episode in which Lorelai’s father’s mother died. There’s a huge moment in this episode in which Emily (Lorelai’s mother) discovers that the dead woman tried to block Emily’s marriage to her son. In this startling moment, Emily refuses to continue to plan the funeral, and the burden falls on Lorelai. The interesting thing here is that this moment falls in the middle of act two. The actual END of act two comes at a much milder moment, in which Lorelai struggles under the continued burden of funeral planning. For any other show, this would be a misplaced act break. But not for Gilmore Girls.

The best shows on TV are usually those in which the original voice of the show’s creator is allowed to shine through with minimal interference. The voice at Gilmore is the voice of Amy Sherman-Palladino. What Amy has done is create a show that takes seriously the idea of drama holding up a mirror to life. Stories unfold along curly lines, they sometimes end long before the end of the episode, with other stories starting late; they involve long, long scenes with long speeches and long exchanges that don’t further the story, and sometimes with important action happening off screen. All of these things break rules. Interestingly, it all has the effect of creating unpredictability in large portions. Wonderful unpredictability. And the lifelike rhythms help the viewers accept the characters as real people. I don’t think I really appreciated what Amy has created until after I worked on the show and I was able to look back at the episodes. She has a remarkably clear and original vision and I was lucky to work there.

In the writers’ room, there was not usually any particular effort to put the big moments at the act breaks. Nor was there an effort to put them somewhere else instead. In fact, the stories were distributed over the acts with more attention to simple number of scenes per act. Eight-ish scenes per act and then a commercial. It gives the act breaks a unique, off-hand feeling, and keeps the viewers off-balance — the big moments can come at any point!

I hope this answers Alex’s question. There was not, in fact, a secret dynamic unless it was a subconscious rule in Amy’s head. Which is possible. But I really think it is more of an effort to free the writers from traditional dynamics than to create a new one.

Now. You may wonder how any of this applies to spec scripts. You probably aren’t writing a Gilmore Girls. It’s no longer a hot spec, simply as a natural consequence of having been on the air for a number of years. But suppose you’re specing another show that breaks rules. What should you do? Mimic the show, or follow the rule?

Follow the rule. If someone WERE writing a Gilmore spec, I would tell them to ignore the fact that the show eschews standard act breaks. The person reading your spec does not work at Gilmore Girls. They want to know if you know how to construct a standard act break moment. This is a rare situation in which mimicry will not serve you well.

This is sort of analogous to a chef adapting an exotic recipe to local tastes. If your American customers are not responding well to the fried crickets in the salad, try substituting almonds. Sure, it’s a perversion of your delicious national dish, but it’ll get you better reviews.

Lunch: An In ‘N’ Out Burger from the cutest little In “N’ Out that I’ve ever been to. Somewhere along the freeway between Palm Desert and here, there is this tiny restaurant with no inside. Just drive-up and walk-up windows and a sweet cluster of wind-swept tables and aggressive tiny birds looking for pickle fragments. Magnificent!

« Older Entries

Newer Entries »