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You know what always bugged me on Cheers? When Diane would say something like this (hypothetical line):

DIANE
Nothing could be more delightful for Sam and I.

Or “… Sam and myself.” Both of these are wrong. Only “Sam and me” is technically correct, although the others are commonly used. I suspect the scripts were correct, and the actor was being imprecise. But Diane was supposed to be educated. And persnickety, at that! She should have gotten something like this right.

Letting uneducated characters speak in their own style requires some thought, if you don’t speak their variety of English. But getting educated ones to speak the way *they* would is also worthy of some effort, and yet it’s not often talked about.

Not sure if you’ve got it exactly right? Check with your aunt, teacher, librarian… find someone who knows the rules. Don’t assume that just because it sounds awkward it must be right!

Professor McCubbin, the Oxford-trained medievalist character now working for the CIA in your spec pilot, knows when to use “that” vs. “which.” Before you write his lines, make sure you do too.

In other news: Guess who’s talking about Yours Sincerely? Ron Moore, that’s who. If you want to make me blush, check out the wonderful things he says about me at: blog.scifi.com/battlestar.

Lunch: gyros, hummus… Greek delights!

Hi all — just wanted to call your attention to the new “Jane Recommends” feature on the page. It’s over there, up and to the left.

^

“Prisoner of Trebekistan” is available for pre-order right now. Click on the pretty cover to go to the Amazon page! I promise you that this is an amazing book. Seriously.

In other news… I do get the nicest letters! Thank you to Susie in Maryland, Shoshana in New York, Marisa, also in New York, and Stephanie in Wisconsin, to name a few.

Stephanie asks a question that comes up now and then. Some of you out there aren’t stopping after you write a spec pilot. You’re writing additional episodes of shows that you are developing on your own, and wondering if there’s any market for this kind of project. I applaud the work ethic even as I tell you that there’s no real use for these episodes in the traditional world of television. Beginning writers are expected to provide writing samples, not entire series. In fact, I’d been writing for television for more than ten years before I was given the opportunity to tell anyone about ideas that I had for entire series of my own.

BUT… things are changing. Product is being developed for other media now — including cell phones and toaster ovens (or whatever). It’s possible that in these exciting new worlds things won’t work in the same way. If you’re excited by your series idea, and you’re having a good time — and learning — by writing the episodes, go ahead. I don’t yet know of anywhere that will look at them… but I wouldn’t be shocked if such a place is just about to start existing!

P. S. Someone told me that they had heard of some kind of program, similar to the ABC Writing Fellowship, that helped young writers develop pilot ideas, but I haven’t been able to track it down. Remember, I’m not an expert in writing opportunities — I just want to offer writing tips. Anything beyond that, and I’m out of my comfort zone.

Lunch: tongue sandwich from Art’s Deli. It’s exciting because it tastes you back!

Hello again! I’m just back from a weekend trip to Las Vegas. It was 113 degrees there! I was outside for less than a minute, but the experience was very similar to being ironed. It was fun to laugh and exclaim and run from the air-conditioned interior of Treasure Island to the air-conditioned interior of the Venetian, but if I’d been outside any longer, the fun would have evaporated, along with all the moisture in my eyeballs.

Fun often depends on the amount of time spent doing something.

Shelah from Studio City writes to talk about the evaporation of her fun. She actually asks another question in the letter, which I will get to in another post, but along the way she makes this observation about what happens as one writes more and more spec scripts, and I just had to comment. She writes:

“… quite frankly, this whole experience has sort of made me lose confidence in my skills. Instead of getting better, I feel I have regressed. When I wrote my Sopranos, I didn’t know all the rules, just the basics, but at least I was having fun. But now, knowing the rules, I am always second guessing myself.”

Raise your hands if you’re with Shelah. Holy cow, that’s a lot of you. I went through this same thing myself. When I wrote my Star Trek: TNG scripts it was like writing Fan Fic. There was an almost guilty pleasure in the doing of it. I can control the characters and make them say whatever I want? I can make anything happen? *Anything*? Whee! It’s like making your Ken dolls kiss each other!

Then you slowly start to realize how much you don’t know. And you second guess yourself. And everything you write starts feeling formulaic and stilted, while your original stuff had this great original chaotic surprising rhythm that you’ve lost.

Well, the horrible truth is, if you’re writing a spec of an existing show, you’re not really being asked to demonstrate an original chaotic rhythm. You’re supposed to capture the existing rhythm of the show. A spec pilot can have more chaos in it, but it still will benefit from learning about structure and act breaks and all that. So some of what was lost was an illusion to begin with. What felt like unrestrained exuberance to you might have looked like an unmade bed to a reader. I’m sure that’s of tremendous comfort. Ah, well. There’s always real Fan Fic if you want to run wild. (If you don’t know about Fan Fic, google it. An interesting subculture or subgenre.)

But can it still be fun, coloring-within-the-lines? Yep. It sure can. When you get more comfortable with the skills and techniques, you stop second guessing yourself because you’re confident in your choices. And then you can have creative fun while still playing by the rules.

Be patient. Everyone goes through this. I think, in fact, that this is the bit of the process that separates the writers from the dreamers. Push through this part, and it’ll all get better. Really. Every script I write has at least a couple scenes in it that make me genuinely joyous.

Lunch: One bite each of every kind of food in the world from “Cravings” buffet at the Mirage. Try the bao.

Hi! Last time I asked if y’all know why Dr. House is named “House.” Maybe this is common knowledge, and I suppose it’s possible that it’s apocryphal. But here’s what I heard. I heard that “House” is like “Homes,” i.e. “Holmes.” Hee! Isn’t that great?

Those of you writing spec pilots will have to name all your characters. You others will have to name guest characters. It’s worth really spending some time on this. I like to do a little research about names that were popular in certain years. If your character was born in the sixties, he’ll have a different first name, most likely, than someone born in the eighties. It used to be that every inappropriately young wife or girlfriend on television was named “Heather.” But now, Heathers are older than they used to be. Believe it or not, I suspect Hannahs are the vixens now!

And then there are those subliminal names, like House. And I’ve always thought that Detective Stabler on Law and Order: SVU was probably named that to suggest to the audience that, compared to his partner, he was… stabler. (This was true in the very earliest episodes. He got less stable later on.) Then there’s sunny blonde Buffy Summers. The Gilmore family on Gilmore Girls was named after a wealthy family from Los Angeles history. The associations can be personal to you, or used to suggest a personality, or your certain dream casting of the role, or you can simply pick a name that feels “real” to you.

The only thing I would suggest that you avoid is something too overt, like a villain named “Blackheart” or, you know, “Underhand.” And watch out for names that sound too much like they were inspired by other people’s characters. I was once chided (chid?) for naming a rich girl something like “Angelica Cathcart.” It was just too romance novel-y, fakey, and horrible. I cringe.

Sometimes, finding the right name will inspire you. I recently was struggling with a character until I decided she was named Jeremie. Something about that struck me just exactly right, and I saw her much more clearly.

Lunch: It was the first-day lunch at Andy Barker PI, so we were all taken out for a fancy lunch at Arnie Morton’s. I had the steak salad. Lovely.

All my snorkel equipment gets carried around in a pink mesh backpack. Mesh, so that everything has at least a fighting chance of drying off. Also, I seem to remember that Joss used to have a pink mesh backpack and I always thought it was adorable. (One of the many reasons why Joss is cool is his unashamed love of things like pink mesh backpacks.) Anyway, part of the glory of the pink mesh backpack is that it can go into the washing machine smelling like a dead fisherman, and when you pull it out again it’s as fresh as the silk rose pinned to a debutante’s dress.

Ooh, didja catch those analogies? I’ve talked about these before, about using them in stage directions to quickly paint a picture. Like this one:

The ship is tossed like a bird in a storm.

Or in dialogue, to get a clear image of what a character is thinking, such as in this line from my old pilot about showgirls. Here, Holly is trying on her false eyelashes for the first time:

HOLLY
Whoa. They’re heavy. Blinking is like doing pushups.

Recently, I got a letter from Dr. Ingrid Glomp, in Gernany, asking about how one can learn to “think and write in analogies.” Hmm. Interesting. I can’t think of any tricks for this except to just make a sort of checklist when you’re looking for a line, remind yourself to stop and think about what the experience *feels* like. If you ever find yourself hunting for the words to describe the effect you want, just consciously go looking for analogies. You do it naturally anyway. Every time you describe a victory as “tarnished,” or a laugh as “grating,” you’re using analogy (metaphor really, but who’s counting).

Now, I must admit, I may not be devoting my full attention to answering this question. I’m totally distracted by the name Ingrid Glomp. It’s fantastic. Ingrid Glomp – great name. Seriously. Next time we talk, I’m totally going to talk about naming characters. Quiz: Why is House named House? Answer coming soon.

Lunch: popcorn with parmesan cheese and hot sauce on it. Yippee!

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