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    May 30th, 2006Jane EspensonFrom the Mailbag, On Writing, Spec Scripts

    Once, when I was very young (27-ish), I was in the Star Trek: TNG offices shortly after a spec script had arrived. The episode was titled “Tangerine,” and it had been accompanied by, get this, a crate of tangerines. Some people in the office were scared of the tangerines, but I ate one. It was lovely.

    Now, here I am, years later, and I remember the name of that spec script. Does that mean this was a good technique? I gotta say, I don’t think so. Especially in these security-paranoid days when unsolicited citrus fruits can get you detained without access to counsel. You want your script to be remembered as professional and well-crafted. Not sticky and freedom-endangering.

    Sometimes the tangerines aren’t literal. If you break the fourth wall in your spec script, it’s almost certainly going to feel just as gimmicky as if it had arrived with a Harry and David gift box.

    You know what it is, I’m sure, to break the fourth wall. That’s any reference that calls attention to the fictional nature of our enterprise. (Or the fictional nature of *The Enterprise* if we’re still in Star Trek land.)

    Even if the show you’re specing routinely flirts with the fourth wall (as Boston Legal has done throughout this season), I would warn you against it.

    (By the way, what Boston Legal has been doing has been a sort of pseudo-fourth-wall construction, having their characters speak of their lives “as if” they were television characters. The same conceit was used in a joke on the Will and Grace series finale, in which Jack complains about how he and Karen are treated as if they’re “supporting characters on the ‘Will and Grace’ show.”)

    A tempting example of breaking a fourth wall in a spec would be to have Lily on How I Met Your Mother make some joke about Buffy the Vampire Slayer, relying on the reader to know that Alyson Hannigan was one of our stars on Buffy. Tempting, but not worth it.

    The problem with doing this in a spec, is that you’re working as hard as you can to convince people that they’re reading “the real show, ” or, even better, that the Lily whom you are writing is a real person. You can’t afford to raise the issue of artificiality. I don’t even like it when actual shows break the fourth wall, actually. We’re all trying to seem “real,” so let’s not mess with it.

    Fan Mail Update: A big helloooo to Jessica in Lexington, MA! Glad you’re enjoying the blog! And keep your eyes peeled for more Espisodes of television… update coming soon.

    Lunch: flatbreads and artichoke spread

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    May 25th, 2006Jane EspensonOn Writing, Spec Scripts

    Well, have we drifted far enough? I’ve been completely tickled by our exploration of types of jokes. No one is doing this. No one is cataloging these species, as far as I know. But, I also realize, the purpose of this blog is help anyone who wants to write a good spec television script. And, it has been pointed out, maybe there are a few more generally helpful things to talk about.

    Like… brads.

    Seriously. They’re hugely important. Certainly as important as any one line of dialogue in your script is going to be. You know how, in this country, the most visible, and most reliable, indicator of a person’s social class is the condition of their teeth? Well, brads are script-teeth.

    When I’m handed a script by a professional writer, it has two one-inch brads – top hole, bottom hole. And they’re stiff – they hold their shape. When I’m handed a spec script, it often has brads with long spiky legs. And it almost always has soft brads that pull apart when the script’s pages are turned. No one gets to read your writing if your script falls apart. Find good brads. I know it’s not easy. When I was in grad school, sending in my Star Trek: TNG spec scripts, I had a very hard time finding good solid brads — I don’t know why this is true, but for some reason there are a lot of totally worthless brads out there. It’s worth the effort to find the good ones.

    By the way, during my first year on Buffy, my Secret Santa gave me a quart of good brads, because I loved the show’s fancy silver ones so much. I’m still using them — fantastic.

    There are other cosmetic things to pay attention to, of course. You don’t need to try to fake the show’s logo on the cover. And you don’t need to indicate how many times you have re-written it – no need for a draft number. Date optional. Remove it, I’d say, if the script is getting old. Keep it if it’s recent.

    Put it in an envelope and send it to the ABC Writing Fellowship (making sure you’ve met any specific requirements they might have about what to include on the title page, etc.). They’re going to be happy to see a professional-looking well-bradded script, believe me. There wouldn’t be a saying about judging books by their covers if it wasn’t so easy to do so.

    Lunch: Chicken and Waffles!

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    May 19th, 2006Jane EspensonComedy, On Writing, Spec Scripts

    When I got into the television writing business, the hour drama was dead. The Disney Fellowship didn’t even accept hour long spec scripts as submissions. And, what’s more, we were all told that the hour drama *couldn’t revive.* It simply would never be possible, because syndication sales were driving the business and hour dramas didn’t syndicate – didn’t fit into those slots between the news and the prime-time line-up.

    I was even told once that the only reason “Law and Order” was picked up, was because it was pitched as an hour that could be split up and syndicated as two separate half-hours: “Law” and “Order.” (Presumably the regular viewers of “Law” would have to check in with the regular viewers of “Order” to find out if the guy arrested at the end of their episode actually did it.)

    Things changed. A few successful hours took hold, other business models started shaping what was profitable and what was not… and now hourlong is king and the half-hour comedy is dead. Especially the multicamera shows. Friends and Frasier are gone and, some say, the format went with them, as doomed as radio plays.

    At least two of my friends who have spent long and thriving careers in half hour are now dipping their toes into hour-writing for the first time. And many more of my comedy friends asked me to recommend them to hour shows. Where else is there to go?

    Does this mean that you should all forget writing half-hour specs and only write dramas? Nope. Because when that pendulum comes back, it tends to do it fast. And right now it’s pulled pretty tautly over to that one side. All it takes is one hot new multicamera sitcom hit and everything will change. And there won’t be that many young writers with half hour specs, so life will be sweet for those who are ready.

    Lunch: sashimi. Delicate and savory… mmm.

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    April 27th, 2006Jane EspensonOn Writing, Spec Scripts

    Hi Everyone! Sorry for the long silence. The hotel at which I stayed on vacation had one internet terminal for everyone to share. I didn’t feel I could justify spec script tips under such circumstances. Also, there was important snorkeling that I had to get done. Know what’s cute? Carribean reef squids are cute.

    Apparently, while I was gone, the trades announced my new deal. So I guess it’s official and I can tell you all about it now. It’s a two year development deal with NBC/Universal television. I’m very excited about it, and cannot wait to start work!

    I’m exhausted from travel right now, but actual writing discussion will happen again soon. I promise!

    Lunch (not today’s lunch, but a recent lunch): “Crab ‘n’ dumplin,” a traditional Tobago treat… huge sections of crab stewed in the shell in a kind of green curry sauce, served with pale and doughy flatbread. It’s sold from beach-side stands. Hot and green and intense and very messy. Wow. Magnificent.

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    April 18th, 2006Jane EspensonOn Writing, Spec Scripts

    I got to do the most interesting thing yesterday. I got to attend the recording session of an animated show. It was wonderful! And fast! The lines of dialogue are all numbered in an animated script. So the director would tell the actors: “All right, lines 52 to 67, let’s begin.” Then she might interrupt at any point: “Let’s hear that one again, with more contempt. Thank you.” or “A bit of a smile on that one.” and, “I need grunting here. One for getting punched and one for hitting the wall. Like this: Unnngh, ooof.” And the actors, without taking a moment to think, would give her contempt, or joviality, or rich deep grunting. A few hours and the dialogue is all recorded! I’ve never seen anything like it. A thing of beauty. And the grunting was hilarious. (“Now we need the sound of you grunting while landing on a fire escape…”)

    By the way, the grunts each got their own number too, just like the lines of spoken dialogue. The numbers are added after the script has been written and revised, so the writer never has to actually worry about them. This is similar to many of the elements that you have noticed in produced scripts for live-action shows, like the cast list and the set list. Sometimes over-eager spec script writers will include these with their spec, either because they assume they’re required, or because they want the reader to have the impression that this script might possibly have been produced. Don’t do it! It looks amateurish, and no one is fooled.

    As long as we’re in the area, another little trick that can backfire on a spec writer is self-conscious mentions of events from other episodes. This was something I remember doing in a Seinfeld spec… I made sure that the characters spoke about things that had already happened on the show, in order to show off my knowledge of the show. Oh! How I cringe now. I fear it was totally transparent. Use the script to show off writing skills and nothing else.

    Well, that was embarrassing.

    Lunch: The “Mediterranean Salad” from Jack Sprat’s. This is a little restaurant on Pico here in Los Angeles. The best part of Jack Sprat’s is the plate of small pale homemade soft pretzels that sits on every table. Fleshy knots of salt and starch — delightful.

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