JaneEspenson.com
Home of Jane's blog on writing for television-
October 30th, 2006On WritingI think a very cool name for a country song would be “C.C. from Little Rock.” And, in a stunning coincidence, I got a letter recently from C.C. from Little Rock. He (she?? — C.C. should put some gender clues in his/her letters) asks a good question about the perpetual problem of specing a show with arcs.
He points out that both Entourage and The Office are currently in the middle of story arcs that change the show’s normal status quo (the re-assignment of Jim, the firing of Ari). He asks if it’s okay for a spec writer to assume that these situations are temporary and can be ignored in the righting of a spec. Yep. I’d say that’s exactly the right approach. I don’t watch Entourage, (I have just been given the DVDs and plan to catch up when I have time), so I can’t state with certainty that the Ari-firing thing isn’t permanent, but it sure sounds like a pretty good gamble to me.
The alternative, of course, is to write a spec that takes advantage of the stories that can only be told during the temporary situation. But then you’ve got a spec that’s tied to a specific time, which will be harder to keep fresh-smelling. So that’s probably not the way to go. (I wonder if a Battlestar set in what turned out to be the temporary settlement of New Caprica would be an interesting novelty spec, however? Hm? Maybe not.)
Note that this contradicts advice I’ve given in the past, in which I cautioned against the folly of trying to “lead” a show as a hunter might lead an escaping deer, betting that you can predict the course. But in this case, where one specific future seems safely likely, I’d have to say go for it. Because what we’re dealing with here is a predictable deer.
Lunch: I ignored the lovely Mexican buffet so that I could save room for the Marie Calender’s chocolate pie.
-
October 28th, 2006On Writing, PilotsThere’s a saying in television that you hear a lot these days, “Don’t save anything.” It’s generally used to mean “put your best moments on screen early in the run of the show.” So, even if you have in mind a tender three-episode arc that culminates in a STUNNING MOMENT… well, there are very few new shows that feel comfortable gambling that they’ll be around three episodes from now. So there’s a tendency to cut to the chase. Mix this with the network’s desire to air the episodes so that the strongest ones air first, and there’s a great tidal force pushing all the BIG EVENTS up early.
There can be a tendency to do something similar in a spec pilot too. I’ve got two supporting characters in the pilot I’m writing now whom I adore. I know that there is great fun to be had in giving them a scene together. But the pilot story doesn’t really accommodate it. So I keep telling myself that I’m “saving” their interaction for episode two. And yet “Don’t save anything” is echoing in my ears. What’s a writer to do?
Well, you’ve probably all already anticipated the problem with “Don’t save anything.” The STUNNING MOMENT that ends a three-episode build may not be as stunning without all the set-up. And the forced encounter between my two supporting characters won’t be nearly as much fun as it will be when there’s a legitimate story reason for them to be thrown together.
So, sure, don’t write a pilot that does nothing but promise thrilling encounters yet to come, but don’t feel, either, that you have to wring every possible drop of juice out of an unyielding orange. Sometimes, the story of the grasshopper and the ant is true, and it’s okay to save.
Lunch: A new idea. Drained a can of chicken noodle soup, saving just the noodles. Put that MRE-style packaged Indian bean dish over it. A new taste treat.
-
October 27th, 2006On Writing, PilotsTime for another meeting of Jane’s Book Club! I am heartily recommending “Scott Bateman’s Sketchbook of Secrets and Shame.” It’s a collection of the most strange and wonderful little cartoons. If you don’t know the name Scott Bateman, I think you’ll recognize his cartoons when you see them: tiny little boxes containing static human figures, generally looking grave or worried and saying the most hilarious things. Sometimes they’re looking off to the side, as if to assure themselves that no one is listening in. The impression you get is that these statements are deeply confessional on the part of the character. Sometimes it’s a deep confession about shallowness, like this one: “I’m building a time machine just so I can go forward ten years and see VH-1’s ‘I Love the ’00s’.”
Some of the jokes are very traditional in structure, like: “You know your neighborhood’s getting too gentrified when you run out of a place to dispose of a dead body.” But most are very strange, like the haunted-eyed one that simply reads, “I suffer from moral fibrosis.”
It can seem like a challenge, especially in a spec pilot, to write jokes based on character, when the characters are brand new. You don’t have established traits to poke fun of. But these cartoons manage to be character-based jokes, and there isn’t even an actor fleshing out the role — just a sketch with an uncomfortable look on its face. There’s something about a quick reveal of an obsession or a fear or a transgression that creates an instant connection. I’m going to be thinking about these cartoons as I play with some dialogue over the weekend.
Lunch: A nice post table-read buffet from Chin Chin. (Is that a national chain?) There were noodles.
-
October 25th, 2006On WritingYou know how, when you’re trying to fit in with a new bunch of friends, how you know they’ve accepted you when they begin insulting you? It’s that thing where they can start teasing you because they’ve assured themselves that you know they have affection for you. So the tease itself becomes proof of the affection. But if a stranger walked up to you and said some of the same things, they’d be railing for a nailing, if you know what I mean.
Well, there’s something kind of similar in writing a spec for an established show. The people who are on the inside of the clique — the employed writers — are allowed to take some liberties with the show that you, as an outsider, aren’t allowed to do. Until you’re hired.
Keep this in mind as you pick your spec stories. The writers of House can do an unusual episode in which Dr. House is trapped in an airport far from the hospital and has to do his diagnosis long distance. In their hands, this is clearly a creative choice to mix things up. But as a spec writer, I would strongly recommend against this story. It’s just too different from a typical episode. Instead of demonstrating an imaginative mind, you look too much like you simply don’t get that the heart of the show is about House’s face-to-face interactions with the other characters.
This leaves you, of course, with a tricky road to walk. You want to stand out. But how can you stand out with a typical episode?!
My instinct is that you CAN do exactly that. You can do it by mining a new emotional layer, not a new physical configuration. You can make an amazing House spec by finding some thrilling (though in character) emotional moment for him, far more effectively than you can by using a trick of atypical plotting.
So I would suggest no episode-long road trips, please, for the Grey’s Anatomy surgeons, no extended trips to Pam’s new apartment in your spec The Office, no Battlestar spec that consists entirely of a pre-disaster afternoon on Caprica… EVEN IF these are episodes that could easily be done by the show’s own staff.
(Now, I will point out here that every now and then, some spec will come along that breaks all the rules and somehow works anyway. If you feel like you’ve got one of those, ignore me. When giving advice about something this subjective, you should all assume the privilege of ignoring me comes built into every post.)
But all else being equal… keep your characters at home!
Lunch: Pizza from California Pizza Kitchen followed by cookies at the first Andy Barker, P.I. table read. I got to see Tony Hale being funny, guys. So much fun!
-
October 24th, 2006From the Mailbag, On Writing, PilotsAdam in West Hollywood has sent in an interesting question, Gentle Readers. He asks for clarification on whether or not spec pilots should be, can be, or must not be “premise pilots.” He says he has received advice saying that premise pilot specs are problematical.
Hmm. I can’t say I really see why. A premise pilot, for those of you who don’t know, is a pilot in which the events occur that set up the dynamic of the show. A non-premise pilot has all the characters and relationships already in place.
Lost had a premise pilot. West Wing had a non-premise pilot as I recall, which is unusual, since most shows have at least some element of premise in their pilot. It was Carter’s first day of work in the ER pilot, although the other elements were in place. Rachel ran away from her wedding, and into her Friends and all their pre-existing relationships, in the Friends pilot. Heroes spread their character intros and premise-setting-up over the first two episodes, extending the premise pilot concept to Heroic new lengths. Having something new happen in a pilot, something that requires all the characters to adjust and act or react, is a great way to explain characters, relationships and situations. At the very least, having even one “new guy” requires the old hands to explain things to them, which facilitates exposition.
The argument against premise pilots, I assume, is that you’re not giving the readers a “typical episode.” But this, it seems to me, is a more potent argument against actual network pilots than it is against spec pilots. You guys, presumably, need your spec pilot to function mainly as a writing sample and as a contest entry. You don’t have to worry so much about whether or not viewers got a representative slice of the show that will bring them back next week. (And since shows that began with premise pilots seem to be the big hits right now, I’d say even this isn’t really a serious concern.)
So I say premise it up! Hire people, fire people, move people across the country, have people fall in or out of love, shake up their lives! When you’re specing an existing show, you don’t have the opportunity to change the basic dynamics of the show. So a spec pilot is your chance to demonstrate this skill — why not use it?
Lunch: scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese
