JaneEspenson.com

Hi! I’m back from WorldCon. Wow, that was fun! It’s a convention that focuses a lot on books, as opposed to comic books and games. This seems to lead to a more grown up and more female collection of attendees than at some other cons. The whole thing had a wonderful feel to it.

The Hugo Award ceremony went well. I got through my part of it, so I was already reeling with relief when I had the pleasure of seeing Serenity get the Drama Long Form award. How wonderful! It was a great night indeed.

I also participated in quite a few more panels, which was a lot of fun. In fact, several times throughout the weekend, I had mini-epiphanies (I call them piphanies) about what it is that I do for a living. Here is a thought you might enjoy. Or disagree with. Or both.

There is a big division in the nature of television shows. We talk about shows that are character-driven and shows that are story-driven. King of the Hill, to pick a show more or less at random, is character-driven. Law and Order is story-driven. Other shows exist somewhere along the scale.

But what if there’s a third division? It seems to me that the shows which we are most liable to call “Sci Fi” are often driven by something that is neither character nor story. The Twilight Zone, original Star Trek and Trek:TNG, the Halloween episodes of The Simpsons, maybe even a show like Quantum Leap… I would contend that these are (drum roll) idea-driven.

You know what I mean? I would even include some of the earliest monster-of-the-week Buffy episodes in this category — the ones with the strongest metaphorical underpinnings. Like episodes of The Twilight Zone, they function as sorts of little parables, with a point to make about the world. A point made by an idea-based show might be something like: racism is random, human obsession creates a barrier as strong as any wall, greed eats away the soul, vanity makes you ugly. There’s a moral to these shows, as in a fable.

Have you ever noticed that there are a lot of people out there who declare “I don’t like Sci Fi” and “I don’t like Fantasy”? Have you ever questioned them on what they mean… do they mean that they don’t like Frankenstein, Brave New World, 1984, A Handmaid’s Tale, Harry Potter? They don’t like Star Wars? Indiana Jones? ET? Splash? Big? Lord of the Rings? Sliding Doors? The Natural? Field of Dreams? Heaven can Wait? Defending your Life? The Incredibles? Batman? They don’t like Buffy? Quantum Leap? Charmed? Medium? Bewitched? Sabrina? Lost?

Usually they’ll admit that they, in fact, like a great many of those things. They just don’t put some of those works in the category of things they dislike. I’m starting to wonder if what best characterizes what they don’t like is the category of idea-driven works.

The types of stories written by Ray Bradbury, the types of filmed stories presented by Rod Serling… these appealed to me as child even without the presence of characters I knew and was already rooting for. I loved the fact that each of them was a neat little package with an idea inside. But others dislike this. Maybe it feels artificial to them, like a little puppet show that they suddenly realize is there not to entertain but to educate. It’s about vegetables! It’s a trap!

They may, in fact, have learned, from the example of the Trek shows, that the sight of spacecraft is a warning signal that ideas may soon follow. I’ve heard from a number of people who were pleasantly surprised to discover that Battlestar Galactica was about people. I think they were afraid it was about ideas. (Which is not to say it is idea-less, but I wouldn’t say it is idea-driven. It is character-driven.)

What does this mean for you, the humble and earnest writer of spec scripts? Figure out the category of the show you are specing and make sure the episode you write is of the correct type. And if you are writing an idea-driven spec pilot, be aware that you are battling some strong headwinds. If you are twisting story and character in order to create a sort of parable, you may be letting an idea drive your spec. Watch out for this, my friends. I love ideas, you love ideas, but something there is that does not love an idea. They simply are not in fashion in the television world right now.

Lunch: A hot meatball sub from Togos, delivered by mistake in place of a turkey sandwich, but cherished nonetheless.

Greetings from WorldCon! I’m in Anaheim, gentle readers, where I’m appearing on panels and mingling with other SciFi fans and – get this – presenting the Hugo Award for best Short-Form Dramatic Presentation. I will get to open the envelope on stage and everything. I’m nervous about it, but I think it’s one of those things, like rewriting, that after it’s over, you’re glad you did it.

I got to share a dais today with the great Melinda Snodgrass. She’s the writer with the best claim to fame that I ever heard of. She wrote a wonderful, classic episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation called “The Measure of a Man.” It was about a challenge to the sentience of Data, the android character and it was one of my all time favorites. And here’s the kicker. It was a spec script. This is the only case I have ever heard of in which a spec script was purchased and produced. Now that’s impressive. Kinda makes you want to polish that spec a little more, doesn’t it? You know, just in case it falls into the right hands?

I can think of one other case that was similar to this. Steve De Knight got hired onto the Buffy staff on the basis of a Buffy spec. Unheard of! You never even submit a spec of a show to that show, right? Well, in fact, he didn’t. It was submitted to Angel. But Joss loved the script so well that he grabbed De Knight for Buffy. I never got to read the script myself, but I understand that it was about Xander and Buffy and how they are affected when Buffy loses her Slayer powers and Xander gets them.

Melinda and Steve did the same thing with their specs. They both took strong, well-established characters that were central to the show, and they put them through a trauma that drove at heart of how that character is defined. What does it mean for an android — this android — to be sentient? What does it mean for Buffy to be the Slayer? These questions are big pointy hooks. Throw them into the ocean and drag them around on the bottom for a while and you’re going to dredge up some stuff.

If you can find an idea for a spec that cuts as close to the heart of a show as those two did, you’ll be on your way to winning the show-biz lottery like they did.

Lunch: seared ahi tuna salad

I work right now in a writers’ room with a lot of really experienced comedy writers. You better believe that I sit there with big ears, listening for comedy crumbs. Here’s what one of them said today.

“It’s all about who’s stupid and who’s lying.”

This is very possibly good advice for life in general, but what he meant was that situations are rendered comically complex by all things that can happen to obscure the clear communication of information.

Kinda stiking, isn’t it? Misunderstandings — Jack thinks Crissy’s pregnant! Deceptions – Lucy puts on a costume to sneak onstage! Someone is stupid and someone is lying. In fact, you’ll find examples in just about any comedy you care to think of. M*A*S*H? Frank Burns is stupid and Hawkeye is lying. Of course, stupidity and deception come in interesting and complex flavors. Self-delusion and pomposity is a sophisticated kind of stupidity. Crafty creativity is a fun sort of lying. Play around, in other words, with ways to keep information away from those who need it.

Interestingly, this suggests that clear communication is the enemy of comedy. Sounds about right. There was a great Kids in the Hall bit once in which two vaudeville comics attempt to do the old Abbott-and-Costello “Who’s on First” routine. But it keeps getting derailed because one of the performers keeps clarifying. “Oh! I see the source of the confusion! I’m referring to the players’ last names, you see.”

Don’t be afraid to populate your spec pilot with fools and liars. You will treasure them.

Lunch: tuna sandwich and lemon creme meringue pie

Oh my. That little LA Times piece about this blog has just borne fruit. Fruit in the shape of envelopes! So much mail has just reached me! Oof! (I collapse under the mail bag, just my little feet sticking out, one on each side.)

Some of the mail either contains ideas for television series (which I simply CANNOT read, no matter what kind of waivers you include, seriously – in fact, they don’t even get to me, having been thrown away before I receive your envelopes), or questions about how to sell such ideas for television series. These questions generally come from those of you who are in situations such that it’s not practical for you to move to Los Angeles and spend ten years establishing yourself in a writing career before you begin pitching pilot ideas. So, of course, you want to know about other avenues for turning ideas into shows.

I wish I knew of such avenues. But I don’t. There are so many working writers with ideas – we pride themselves on them – that there’s no sense of a need to seek out other sources.

I am reminded that there was, briefly, an attempt to do something like what you are looking for. There was a fairly low-profile reality show on Bravo last season called “Situation:Comedy,” that was a sort of Project Greenlight for sitcoms. Unproduced writers submitted spec pilots, and two finalists had 15-minute versions of their scripts produced. (These mini pilots were called “pilot lights”.) Unfortunately, I have heard of no plans to repeat the project, although I personally thought it was great, and I wish it would continue.

And how did I happen to be reminded of this short-lived project? Well, one of the letters I received was actually from one of the “Situation:Comedy” semi-finalists! I’m delighted to learn he’s finding the blog helpful! Here’s wishing you continued success with your career!

Maybe other projects and contests like that one will come along. We can all keep our eyes open for them. Until then… keep thinking, keep writing… what you’re doing now is very much like how I got started. It takes many hours of flight training before you become a pilot. And many hours in the writers’ room before you pitch a pilot. But both are, in the end, attainable.

Lunch: steak and potatoes.

You know what I heard the other day that I hadn’t heard in a while? People talking about a commercial they saw. With more and more of us using Tivo, and skipping the commercials, they are becoming less of a cultural touchstone. Interesting.

Tellingly, the ad these people were talking about was for a product marketed to men. Ah. That would be advertised during sports – something which is still watched live. That explains it.

Of course, there are all sorts of points that can be made about this particular loss of commonality in our culture. The point I’m choosing to make is possibly the most trivial of all these possible points. Commercials no longer are a great comedy resource.

Believe it or not, this is a sizable loss. Punchlines derived from commercial tag lines like “Two, two, two mints in one,” “He likes it! Hey, Mikey!” “Ancient Chinese secret, huh?” “Less Filling! Tastes Great!” and so on, were a huge part of my television adolescence. (For some reason, I only seem to be thinking of really old commercials… but I know I have often referenced more recent ones when writing.)

The jokes will instead become, I suppose, references to popular YouTube-type offerings (Mentos + Diet Coke, etc). So don’t despair. There’s still lots of comedy to harvest. Just observe and enjoy the little seismic shift as one of comedy’s staple resources undergoes a change. And stay on top of it, of course. If you want your readers to get that pleasant jolt of recognition… make sure you’re working with material they’ll recognize.

Lunch: chicken and vegetables. Healthy but good.

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