Today’s reader question—which is long overdue—comes from E. Daniels.  In fact, today’s reader question is DOUBLY long overdue, because I recently found a handful of emails you guys sent over the past year that, somehow, I never answered.  

So first of all: I apologize to everyone who emailed me and never got an answer.  I try to answer every email I get… but occasionally some fall through the cracks.  I also try to answer most emails in a timely manner… but again, some fall through the cracks.  Sometimes they fall through the cracks because I just get so many emails I fall behind.  I also try to space out similar posts and answers (i.e., I don’t like to post two book reviews or movie reviews back-to-back), so questions occasionally get pushed around so much they never get posted.  And sometimes, honestly, I just get overwhelmed and forget.

But I try not to… so I apologize for all times previously, and in the future, when your emails get delayed or forgotten or disappeared.  It’s not intentional, I promise… and I’m always trying to be better!

So today’s question comes from E. Daniels… and from Peggy, who emailed me last year… and I’m tying their questions together.

E. Daniels’ asks:  

“Do you have any book recommendations for people writing their first (non-procedural drama) pilot? It seems like writing a TV pilot is completely different from writing a spec of an existing show, a feature, etc. And yet, those other formats have books dedicated to them, and the most I can find on pilot writing is a couple of chapters squeezed in between sections on breaking in and working on staff. I'm looking more for a book on writing, specifically. Any ideas?”

And Peggy asks:

“I love Law & Order: SVU, and I am working on a script.  Any suggestions for me?”

Now, to be fair, these are fairly different questions… writing a pilot is a VERY different process from writing an episodic spec script.  However, both are also incredibly complex processes about which entire books have been written… which is basically to say, Peggy, that rather than just give you some random “suggestions,” I’d like to steer you toward some helpful resources and broad techniques… which will also help E. Daniels.

So, E. Daniels…

Here are some TV-writing books that I find helpful and interesting (or have had recommended to me) that deal with the pilot-writing process…

•  Writing the TV Drama Series: How to Succeed as a Professional Writer in TV, by Pamela Douglas
•  The TV Writer's Workbook: A Creative Approach To Television Scripts , by Ellen Sandler
•  Write to TV: Out of Your Head and onto the Screen, by Martie Cook
•  Small Screen, Big Picture, by yours truly (I promise—I’m not just throwing it in here to promote my own book.  The truth is, this book isn’t much about the actual writing process… it talks about the business/practical side of television—and how that affects the creative side of developing pilots.  In other words, this book may not tell you how to write a pilot, but it may help you understand some of what networks and studios—as businesses—are looking for in pilots they buy and acquire.  And as such, it'll hopefully help you understand what to do, not do, etc.-- basically, how to design a pilot that is-- in theory-- sellable.)

But I think the best thing to study when writing a pilot… IS OTHER PILOTS.  (And likewise, Peggy, the best things to study when writing a spec are episodes of the show you’re writing.  Which I’m sure you already know, but I think the key is actually HOW you study them…)

A cool piece of advice:

Just as you can set your Tivo to search for shows or movies with your favorite actors and directors, you can also set your Tivo to search for the word “pilot,” and it’ll record any pilots that come on TV… not just pilots of new shows, but RERUN pilots as well.  So it’ll often capture everything from brand new pilots to pilots for shows like E.R. and I LOVE LUCY.

Now, like I said, the key is HOW you study your pilots or episodes.  I have a very specific process I like to use…

STEP #1)  I watch each episode with the timecode on, writing down every beat, or new piece of narrative information, as it happens.  (Or better yet, get the scripts and analyze the beats on each page.)  In other words, every time something happens that pushes the story forward, I write it down, with the exact timecode when it happens.  My pen almost never stops moving.  I often find there’s a relevant new piece of information almost every 30 seconds.

So—in very broad strokes—a section of “beats” might look like this (I’m making these beats up):

14:27 – Chandler brings home Sabrina, a girl he wants to date
14:50 – Chandler introduces Sabrina to Joey, Joey acts weird around her
15: 21 – Chandler goes into the bathroom
15:35 – Joey asks Sabrina what she’s doing here, Sabrina tells him to leave
15:52 – Learn Joey and Sabrina hooked up two days ago
16:19 – Chandler returns, ready to take Sabrina to the movies
17:00 – Chandler invites Joey to join them at the movies
17:12 – Joey says no
17:30 – Chandler begs Joey to come, explaining that if his best friend doesn’t like his girlfriend, he can’t date her

You get it.

STEP #2)  I identify how each beat functions in the show.  For instance (I change the character’s name to “A-Character” to help distance myself from the actual characters)…

14:27 – Chandler brings home Sabrina, a girl he wants to date – LEARN A-CHARACTER’S WANT
14:50 – Chandler introduces Sabrina to Joey, Joey acts weird around her – A-CHARACTER INTRODUCES HIS “WANT/PRIZE” W/ THE B-CHARACTER, MOST IMPORTANT IN HIS LIFE – INTRODUCE MAIN CONFLICT
15: 21 – Chandler goes into the bathroom – A-CHARACTER LEAVES HIS WANT/PRIZE WITH IMPORTANT PERSON
15:35 – Joey asks Sabrina what she’s doing here, Sabrina tells him to leave – ILLUMINATE CONFLICT BETWEEN B-CHAR & WANT/PRIZE
15:52 – Learn Joey and Sabrina hooked up two days ago – HISTORY/EXPOSITION OF B-CHAR AND WANT/PRIZE
16:19 – Chandler returns, ready to take Sabrina to the movies – A-CHAR TAKES ACTION TO OBTAIN WANT
17:00 – Chandler invites Joey to join them at the movies – A-CHAR UNKNOWINGLY STOKES CONFLICT
17:12 – Joey says no – OBSTACLE TO A-CHAR’S ACTION
17:30 – Chandler begs Joey to come, explaining that if his best friend doesn’t like his girlfriend, he can’t date her – RAISE STAKES FOR A-CHAR


STEP #3)  I remove the specific beats of the show, leaving me with just the “beat definitions.”  Like this…

14:27 – LEARN A-CHARACTER’S WANT
14:50 – A-CHARACTER INTRODUCES HIS “WANT/PRIZE” W/ THE B-CHARACTER, MOST IMPORTANT IN HIS LIFE – INTRODUCE MAIN CONFLICT
15: 21 – A-CHARACTER LEAVES HIS WANT/PRIZE WITH IMPORTANT PERSON
15:35 – ILLUMINATE CONFLICT BETWEEN B-CHAR & WANT/PRIZE
15:52 – HISTORY/EXPOSITION OF B-CHAR AND WANT/PRIZE
16:19 – A-CHAR TAKES ACTION TO OBTAIN WANT
17:00 – A-CHAR UNKNOWINGLY STOKES CONFLICT
17:12 – OBSTACLE TO A-CHAR’S ACTION
17:30 – RAISE STAKES FOR A-CHAR

You now have a step-by-step outline, a map, to structuring a work-able story in the style/tone of a show similar to yours… so you can simply lay your own story beats right on top of the structure.  Like this…

14:27 – LEARN A-CHARACTER’S WANT – Jason wants to convince Mr. Stony to buy his business proposal
14:50 – A-CHARACTER INTRODUCES HIS “WANT/PRIZE” W/ THE B-CHARACTER, MOST IMPORTANT IN HIS LIFE – INTRODUCE MAIN CONFLICT – Jason introduces Mr. Stony to his business partner, Tommy
15: 21 – A-CHARACTER LEAVES HIS WANT/PRIZE WITH IMPORTANT PERSON – Jason gets called away to take a phone call
15:35 – ILLUMINATE CONFLICT BETWEEN B-CHAR & WANT/PRIZE – Tommy and Mr. Stony begin discussing sports
15:52 – HISTORY/EXPOSITION OF B-CHAR AND WANT/PRIZE – Mr. Stony is a die-hard Red Sox fan… and Tommy is a die-hard Yankees fan
16:19 – A-CHAR TAKES ACTION TO OBTAIN WANT – Jason returns, ready to discuss his proposal
17:00 – A-CHAR UNKNOWINGLY STOKES CONFLICT – Jason asks Tommy to stick around for the discussion
17:12 – OBSTACLE TO A-CHAR’S ACTION – Mr. Stony tries to leave to avoid being in the room with Tommy
17:30 – RAISE STAKES FOR A-CHAR – Mr. Stony says he’ll call Jason later to discuss the proposal, but he must make a decision by tonight (ticking clock)


Now— I am NOT saying this new story is a GOOD story.  (I literally just scribbled down these beats over 45 seconds as an example.)  But the point is… once you have a workable template, it becomes VERY easy to lay down beats and structure your story.  

Of course, like with any map, you are allowed to deviate from the path to explore other routes.  If you have a great brainstorm or a flash of genius—by all means: follow it.  The map is simply meant to illuminate how other successful stories have worked; it’s giving you a blueprint for the house—your job is to paint the walls, buy furniture, hang art, etc.

So E. Daniels—why this isn’t exactly the question you asked, I hope those book suggestions help, but I also think the best research is to really deconstruct pilot episodes of shows that work similarly (narratively and thematically) to yours.

And Peggy—my best advice for your Law & Order: SVU spec is to analyze as many episodes as you possibly can.  You’ll begin to notice patterns in how they reveal information, build acts, etc.  And this will be more helpful to your spec than any book or tidbits of advice.

Anyway, I hope this helps… and sorry it took so long to get to your questions!  And for the rest of you out there… please keep writing!  I have some questions in the cue, which I promise to get to ASAP, and we have lots more great things coming up!

Talk to you all soon…

Chad

Hey, everyone—

Today’s submission to the Script Notes Pitch Workshop comes from Scott, who submits loglines for two feature ideas.  So before we dive in… Scott—thank you so much for sending these!  The Pitch Workshop is one of my favorite parts of doing this blog, and I always wish people would use it more.  So A) I really appreciate you submitting, and B) I hope this feedback—and the feedback you get from other readers—is helpful as you develop these ideas!

Having said that, let’s get started!  Here are Scott’s loglines…

1) THE SPITCHCOCKS, a feature comedy, is about four friends who form a famous rock band who implode in the most spectacular way. Now they must reunite for the biggest gig of their life.

2) THE DEVIL'S MONEY, a feature crime drama, is about corrupt Mexican police forces who battle during the search for a kidnapped teenager.


Now, normally, I like to look at different ideas separately, but today I want to look at these together, because I think they both have very similar strengths and weaknesses.

STRENGTHS:
One of the best things about both ideas is their strong sense of the “kind of movie” they want to be.  While each is just a logline with few details, I get a definite feel for each film… it’s like I can see snippets of each movie or their trailers… and I also get the sense that Scott, the writer, see much more of the canvas on which these stories are painted.  And that’s a great place for Scott to start from.


WEAKNESSES:
Firstly, Scott-- while both these ideas have great “backdrops,” I’m not sure what the actual STORIES are.  Story comes from a main character (or characters) having an incredibly strong WANT that forces him to take ACTION… and that action places him in conflict with OBSTACLES he must conquer or navigate.  And unfortunately, neither logline details a main character(s), what he/she wants, specific courses of action, or any tangible obstacles the hero might encounter.

Secondly—or maybe hand in hand—the loglines—while good at conveying a “sense of spirit”—are written in such broad generics (“the most spectacular way,” “the biggest gig of their life”) that while I believe YOU have a strong sense of these worlds, it’s tough for me to share in it.  I see MY version of “most spectacular way” and “biggest gig of their life,” but I’m not really sure if my own imagination’s versions are accurate to your vision and story.  And your job, as a writer, is to communicate your own specific vision, not necessarily entice me with what MY vision could be.


So...

SUGGESTIONS TO STRENGTHEN THESE:

1)  IDENTIFY YOUR MAIN CHARACTERS.  Does The Spitchcocks revolve around Larry, the band’s former lead singer, who wants to help his bandmates heal their animosity so they can reunite for one last enormous gig?  Is it about the drummer, Razor, who wants the band to play a charity concert to raise money for his baby’s life-saving surgery?  Or is it a straight-up ensemble piece… in which you identify the main characters as a unit?  For instance, are they now mid-forties, middle class suburban parents who must suddenly juggle day-jobs and parenting as they attempt to get in shape for a new tour?  Or are they poor late-twenties singles who broke up after a violent falling out?  Are they Midwestern bumpkins who somehow succeeded as a rap band—The Tractor Pulls—in the big city?  Or are they former hair metal rockers now out of place in a hip-hop world?  

Paint a picture of these guys so we can not only see them visually, but we “see” them emotionally and understand how the world looks to them.

The same goes for The Devil’s Money.  Does this story follow one particular cop, like Eric, a righteous cop trying to find a missing child amidst a city run by corruption?  Does it follow Charlie, the kidnapped kid’s father, desperately trying to work with corrupt officials to rescue his son?  Or is it an ensemble piece about District Battalion 89, the most corrupt police force in Mexico City, that must pull together to save this one particular kid?

Whether the story follows one person or a group, giving them a name and a few words of description will help us connect to them.


2)  WHAT DOES THIS MAIN CHARACTER WANT?  I hinted at this above—and specifying his want will also help flesh out your main character—but let us know exactly what your protagonist wants… both “tangibly” and “emotionally.”  Perhaps Norman, your main character in The Spitchcocks, wants to reunite his band so he can win the heart of his true love… a girl who used to be the world’s biggest Spitchcocks fan.  That may not be the story you want to tell, but it DOES give a sense of what Norman wants “tangibly”—A) a girl, and B) to reunite the band—and it lets us know what he wants “emotionally”… true love.  We understand how this onjective will drive Norman to action… and, because it has an emotional engine (we all understand the desire for true love), it allows us to invest emotionally in Norman’s quest.

Similarly, in The Devil’s Money, does your main character simply want to find the missing kid?  Or is your main character Carlos, a police chief who wants to rid his force of corruption… and their newest case—the missing kid—is the one he’s determined to use to rid his force of evil?  Or is your main character Jules, the kid who’s been kidnapped, and he desperately wants to be rescued… but learns the corrupt police force itself is behind his capture?

Whatever you decide for each story, knowing—and articulating—your characters’ wants is the engine that drives the narrative.  Put it up front, big and bold, in both your logline and your actual script.  Without it, the rest of your script is much less effective; but let your audience understand and relate to your hero’s want, and you’ve already taken a huge step toward constructing a successful story.


3)  SPECIFY THE EXACT ACTIONS YOUR MAIN CHARACTER(S) MUST TAKE TO ACCOMPLISH HIS/HER WANT.  The Spitchcocks, for instance, is about a band reuniting… so what tangible actions must be taken for this to succeed?  Do the band members live in different countries, so Hank, the frontman, but physically travel the globe in order to gather them all?  Is the lead singer in jail for pot possession… so your lead character—Toby, the bassist—must break him out and get him to the gig before he’s re-arrested?

In The Devil’s Money, you mention that corrupt cops are searching for a kidnapped kid… and there’s also a war between cops.  While I’m not sure which is your “A-story,” I think this will clear up when you pinpoint your main character’s want.  If the objective is to find the kid, what actions does this entail?  Do they have five internal suspects the main cop, Pepe, must interview, opening a world of corruption and scandal in Pepe’s own department?  Or must Pepe and his partner, Ricky, search for the missing child in Mexico’s dangerous and seedy underworld, which is more (or less) corrupt than the police force itself?


4)  WHAT IS YOUR HERO’S MAIN OBSTACLE?  Like identifying your characters’ wants and actions, we also need to know exactly what is preventing your main character(s) from succeeding.  Why can’t The Spitchcocks simply reunite?  Even if they now live on different continents, why can’t they just hop on a plane and get back together?  What is preventing their actions from accomplishing their goal?  Did the Spitchcocks break up over soapy and unresolved sexual/romantic tensions?  Do they have different artistic visions that constantly cause them to fight?  Does one of them have amnesia that has wiped his memory of all the songs?  

Likewise, how does a battle between corrupt cops interfere with them finding a missing kid?  Are the cops lazy and refuse to work?  Is this the child of an enemy faction’s chief, so the other cops refuse to look for him/her?  Do they not want to find this child because he possesses valuable information that could reveal and punish certain corrupt cops?

Whatever you decide, your obstacle needs to be large and dramatic enough that we immediately understand how it will impede our hero’s journey.  Like your character’s want, the best obstacles aren’t just “tangible” obstacles, they’re also are also “emotional” obstacles, forcing the character to confront something in his/her relationships with other people.  

For example, the reuniting Spitchcocks could be faced with the obstacle that they all live on different continents.  This is, obviously, a huge challenge to their reunion.  But it’s a STRONGER challenge if they live on those different continents because ten years ago, when they were together as a band, the lead singer, Jorge, married the drummer, Carrie, and had an affair with the bassist, Vince.

Lastly, Scott…


5)  AVOID WRITING IN GENERICS LIKE “MOST SPECTACULAR WAY” AND “BIGGEST GIG OF THEIR LIFE.”  Although loglines must use words sparingly, they must also be the right words to communicate your story accurately and with detail.  “Biggest gig of their life” may mean one thing to one reader… and an entirely different thing to another reader.  And what’s most important is that your reader understands what those moments mean to YOU.

Having said that, it doesn’t matter exactly what the Spitchcocks’ “biggest gig” is… or how “spectacularly” the Spitchcocks implode… as long as it’s the biggest “EMOTIONAL” gig of their life and the most “EMOTIONALLY” spectacular implosion they could have.  

For example, you could argue that the “biggest gig of their life” is that they’ve been invited to open for U2 for ONE NIGHT ONLY (the normal opener is out sick), and if it goes well, it could re-launch their career.  This could obviously be “the biggest gig of their life.”  

OR… “the biggest gig of their life” could be this: the lead singer Barry’s daughter is dying, and Barry doesn’t have the money for her surgery… so he reunites the band for a charity concert to raise $500,000 and save his child’s life.  This could also be the “biggest gig of his life.”  And—frankly—it may even be “bigger,” because the stakes are higher.

OR… perhaps The Spitchcocks is a wonky sci-fi comedy, and the band has been kidnapped by an alien race that tells them: “You have 24 hours to put together a concert of entirely new material… or we’ll destroy the planet Earth.”  Silly, I know—but with the right tone it could work… and THAT is certainly the “biggest gig of their life.”

What this basically boils down to, Scott, is your story’s STAKES (what your characters stand to lose if they fail in their quests)… and deciding/understanding what they are.  Once you know that, those are the specifics to plug into the vague holes left by “most spectacular way” and “biggest gig of their life.”


Anyway, Scott, I hope this is helpful!  Feel free to play, shape, mold, rework, tweak, polish… and resubmit.  

In the mean time, if other readers have loglines or summaries for the Script Notes Pitch Workshop, feel free to post them here, or shoot me an email at WDScriptNotes@FWPubs.com.

In the mean time, keep reading… we have some great posts coming up.  We’ll have more Pitch Workshop submissions… we’ll talk about how to protect your work… we'll help the American Idol writers earn fair pay, residuals, and health benefits… we'll have book reviews… and much, much more!

For those of you haven't seen last night's Saturday Night Live sketch starring Tina Fey as Sarah Palin and Amy Poehler as Hillary Clinton, I'm posting it here.  I love this not only because Tina Fey does a DEAD-ON Palin impersonation, but because this is some great political sketch producing.

I love it not only because of Fey's performance and the biting wit, but because the SNL writers do a terrific job of creating a little "relationship" between these women on screen.  (For those of you who haven't been to one of my L.A. classes, I'm a HUGE proponent of pounding home that all good storytelling-- regardless of length or purpose-- is about only three things: RELATIONSHIPS, RELATIONSHIPS, RELATIONSHIPS.) 

It would've been easy for the writers to simply string together some snarky political one-liners and rely on the strenth of their performers' impersonations (Amy Poehler does a decent job, but not as good as Tina Fey), but instead they took the time to let the fictional Palin/Clinton relationship build. 

Both characters in this sketch have strong personal/emotional wants... which they articulate at the beginning of the sketch... but in order to achieve their wants they're forced to team up with the one person most antithetical to their objective.  (Well, Hillary is, anyway-- Palin is practically oblivious to the tension in the relationship.)  You can almost hear the SNL writers asking themselves "how would these two women feel-- and behave-- if forced to join together for a brief moment on the political stage?"  "How would their world-views conflict, and how would these conflicting views affect their behavior?"

Take a look... lemme know what you think...

Hey, guys—

First off, I want to give a HUGE THANK YOU to E. Daniels and everyone else who submitted questions to Eric, our host at Reality Binge, for him to answer on his funny blog.  You can submit whenever you want, so please… keep ‘em coming!

Secondly, wanted to take a few moments to answer a great question I received the other day.
This question comes from Susan, who took my pilot writing class last week.  Susan writes...

“You recommend not writing an ‘origin pilot’ (a la Lost), but writing a pilot that could be episode 100 or episode 1.   But aren't pilots where the main character moves to Alaska (Northern Exposure) or gets hit on the head (Samantha Who?) origin pilots?  Or do you mean a literal creation of a whole new world type of thing?”

Great question, Susan!  To get to that answer, let’s take a quick step back to catch people up…

As I said last week last week, many writers often make the mistake of thinking that a pilot is simply the first episode of a TV series, and your job in writing a pilot is to write the beginnings of a story and characters that make people want to keep watching.

While this is PART of what a pilot is, it’s only partially/somewhat/occasionally accurate.

In truth, a pilot is designed to be a prototype of a typical episode or your series.  Yes, it’s introducing your audience to the world of your story (and before your show is on the air, your pilot’s “audience” consists mainly of network execs who decide whether to air your project at all), but it’s also meant to show networks how the show will work in series.  Which means your job is not only to launch a story that can sustain itself for years to come, but to illustrate how that series will generate and tell stories whether it’s at episode 10 or episode 500.

Thus, if every episode of your show is a close-ended story in which your main character, a detective, solves an art heist, your pilot needs to show that detective solving an art heist.  If every episode of your series shows a group of friends helping each other through wacky dating situations, your pilot needs to show that same group of friends helping each other through funny dating situations.

In other words, while your pilot is—in some way—unlike any other episode of your series (because it’s the beginning of your story), it must also work just like every other episode of your series.

So, now that we understand this, there tend to be two types of TV pilots: origin pilots and "traditional pilots" (to be honest, I’m not sure if non-origin pilots have a special name, so I just call them “traditional” pilots).

Traditional pilots work just like a regular episode of the series.  In fact, some—like the Everybody Loves Raymond pilot—are nearly indistinguishable from regular episodes.  They spend very little time introducing characters, setting up stories, etc.  They just throw readers/audiences right into the world and start the show.

Origin pilots begin at the VERY BEGINNING of the story.  Jericho kicked off with a nuclear attack.  Grey's Antaomy begins on the day Meredith meets the other interns and McDreamy.

Different pilots work differently.  The question is: WHICH IS MORE SELLABLE OR MORE ATTRACTIVE TO NETWORKS AND STUDIOS?

The answer, almost unequivocally, is: “traditional” pilots.  Remember, the true job of a pilot is to show audiences—including network buyers—how the episodes works on a regular basis, and traditional pilots do this MUCH BETTER than origin pilots, which have so much “pipe to lay,” or story to set up—that they frequently don’t work like subsequent episodes.

(In fact, sometimes the series’ original pilot never airs… or airs out of order… because the network simply wants to jump right into the meat of the story.  Firefly and Cavemen both aired their pilots later in the series.  Ed shot a pilot, decided not to use it, then cut it into an quick montage that opened the first episode to set up the story.)

Now, Susan, you ask about pilots like Northern Exposure and Samantha Who?, where Joel moves to Alaska or Sam gets hit on the head and goes into/awakes from her coma.

Many pilots, obviously, are indeed telling the beginning of a story, so they can’t scrap ALL the elements of an origin pilot.  After all, they still need to START THEIR STORY (by moving Joel to Alaska or putting Sam in the coma).  But they also need to show how the episodes work.  Thus, they usually set up their story as quickly as possible, but they also work hard at illustrating how future episodes will play out.

The CSI pilot, for instance, began with a new detective (Holly) joining the CSI team.  It was a new day for the CSI gang… they had a new member.  (This also allowed the storytellers to introduce the other people, places, and situations organically, since Holly was just meeting them for the first time.)  But the rest of the episode then followed the crew as they solved what would become a fairly typical CSI mystery.  (And they even killed off Holly, our entrée to the world!)

Similarly, the Grey's Anatomy pilot begins with the interns meeting each other for the first time… but it also has typical close-ended patient stories (Meredith and the girl with seizures, George and the open-heart patient, etc.).

Other pilots don’t bother setting up story at all.  The Cosby Show, like Everybody Loves Raymond, just plunged right into its basic family-life storylines.

Your job, Susan, is to decide which type of pilot works best for the story you’re telling.  I would never say: "NEVER write an origin pilot."  Some shows, like Lost, require more origin set-up than others.  Others, like The Cosby Show, can get away with diving right in.  You need to write whatever story launches your story the best.  HOWEVER...

The most important thing to keep in mind is this: a pilot isn’t designed simply to be the first step in a longer story, it’s designed to be a selling tool that shows network buyers how that series will work on a regular basis.

(Think of yourself as a door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesman.  You want to wow your potential buyers with something flashy, cool, and sexy... but you also need to show them how the vacuum works.  If they don't see how the machine will work on a regular basis, it doesn't matter how cool and attractive it is... they won't buy it.)

If you can remember that—even if you’re telling an origin story—you’re well on your way to writing (and selling!) a successful pilot.

I hope that answers your question.  And please, everyone, if you have others, don’t hesitate to shoot me an email: WDScriptNotes@FWPubs.com!

Talk to you soon…

Chad

Today's question(s) comed from Corey Nolter, a 9th grader who's an aspiring screenwriter working on a research paper about his future career.  Corey asks a ton of questions, so I'm just gonna dive in.  Corey-- I hope these answers help... lemme know how the paper turns out... and I expect a thank you in your Oscar speech!  Here ya go...

Hi, my name is Corey Nolter and i am a 9th grade student trying to finsih a research paper for school. The research paper is about the feature career I want for my future. I would like to be just what you are a Screen Writer or someone who works in that area, However i was just wondering if you could answer these questions.

1. Do you enjoy your career? Do you ever think you have chosen the wrong path? Explain.

I love my career… and EVERY DAY I wonder if I’ve chosen the wrong path.  I know this sounds crazy… so I’ll explain.  First of all, I never question that I was born to write.  I love writing, and I’ve wanted to be a professional writer for as long as I can remember.  But this is a hard—and by “hard,” I mean “nearly impossible”—profession to have any kind of real stability in.

In almost every profession in the world, you have a salaried position that gives you a regular paycheck… and, hopefully, benefits, vacation time, etc.  For screenwriters and TV writers, that almost never happens.  And by “almost never,” I mean “never.”

Screenwriters and TV writers are freelance employees.  Whether you’re the lowliest staff writer on a TV show or the highest-paid screenwriter in Hollywood, YOU’RE A FREELANCER.  Which means you’re never ENTIRELY sure where your next paycheck will come from, and you almost never have a job that gives you benefits, retirement packages, or vacation time.  (Most professional screenwriters get benefits through the Writers Guild, the labor union representing professional TV and film writers.  As for vacation time, well… you go on vacation between jobs.)

Now, there ARE certain jobs that provide a semblance of stability.  TV shows, for instance, are written by staffs of writers, and each person on that staff is hired for a certain amount of time.  You might be hired for 10 weeks… or 6 months… or even just one episode.  It varies from show to show (not to get too technical, but the amount of time you’re hired for usually depends on how many episodes the show expects you to work on).

But even these TV jobs are temporary.  You may get contracted to write for 10 weeks… and then not be asked back at the end.  Or you may get contracted for 10 weeks… and the show gets canceled after only two weeks.

So whether you’re a lowly staff writer on a TV show or Hollywood’s highest paid screenwriter, the life of a writer is one of agonizing uncertainty… especially if you have a spouse, kids, your own home.  After all, it’s hard to support people who are depending on you when your future is always murky.  

Of course, the more successful you are, the more work you are able to get… but that doesn’t necessarily make your job more stable.  Marc Cherry, a veteran TV writer, spent years as a highly-paid TV writer, writing on shows like The Golden Girls, before suddenly hitting a dry spell and not being able to get a job for several years.  Then, in 2003, he created Desperate Housewives and became one of television’s hottest writers.  But for many years before that, he couldn’t get a job.

I have a friend who’s a producer on Lost, and he always tells aspiring film and TV writers: “If there’s anything else in the world you want to do… anything else that interests you… go do it.  Unless this is the ONLY thing you care about… DON’T DO THIS.”

I think that’s a good thought—not just as a gauge of how hard this industry, but of what it takes, mentally and emotionally, to survive within it.  The odds against success are incredibly high… and even when you find success, you can’t take it for granted.

So, Corey, in answer to your question: I do enjoy my career… because I love TV, movies, storytelling, and the written word.  But very few days go by that I don’t wonder if life would be better if I was an insurance agent or a fireman or a librarian or a professor.  If I didn’t have to fall asleep sweating every night because I have no idea if I’d be making any money in a week, or a month, or a year.  If I knew I could give my wife everything she wants.  

The problem is this: I don’t think I’d be very good at any of those things.  Sure… I guess I could LEARN to be a librarian or an insurance agent or a professor (although trust me—I’m the LAST person you want to be a fireman)… but I think I’d be pretty poor at most of those jobs.  So… for better or worse, I’m here in.  Writing TV and articles and books and this blog… and praying—literally praying—that I can do this long enough to actually say I made a life at it.


2.How many years of education does it take for you to become a writer?

I guess the blunt answer to this is: NONE.  That’s not to say writers aren’t highly educated, intelligent people… or that there aren’t some top-notch colleges, conservatories, and grad schools out there.  I got my MFA from UCLA.  But to be honest… I don’t think any education prepares you for being a writer better than just LIVING.  

Now, this does NOT mean you can just drift along and expect to get writing jobs.  Writing is hard work that takes years and years of practice, growing, trial and error—both in and out of school.

What it DOES mean, however, is that writers—first and foremost—write about people.  And life.  And the world around them.  So your first job, as a budding author, is to get out in the world and study it.  Read everything you can: books, screenplays, biographies, graphic novels, song lyrics, magazine articles, poems.  Observe people around you… study relationships in your own life and how people connect to and communicate with each other.  Keep a journal.  Travel.  Take interesting jobs.  Talk to strangers.

I know this sounds like hokey motivational-speaker stuff, but it’s not.  As a writer, your job is to tell stories or create images that reflect the world and its people.  So the more you ABSORB the world and its people, the better writer you become.  Look at the world’s great wordsmiths and storytellers… Ernest Hemingway, Woody Allen, Aimee Mann, Carl Sandburg, H.P. Lovecraft, Kurt Cobain, Virginia Woolf… whatever genre or medium they work in, they move us because we read their words and say, “Wow… I’ve felt like that.”  Or, “Yeah, I’ve felt like the people in this story.”  Or—when it’s REALLY magical—“Oh my God… this writer ‘GETS’ me!”

So the short answer to your question, Corey, is: yes, a writer needs a lot of real education: both book-learnin’ and life experience.  But where you GET that education depends on how you learn best.  Maybe you learn best in the structured curriculum of a top-notch school or university.  Perhaps you learn best hopping trains and seeing the world.  Maybe you learn best by getting a real job, living in the real world, and spending your nights reading books and writing your own stuff.  Everyone’s different… but the tools and skills needed for being a writer aren’t.


3. After College is it tough to get noticed in your area of work?

Extremely.  Competition is incredibly, ridiculously high in the field of film and TV writing.  After all, there aren’t that many movies or TV shows each year, but there are MILLIONS of people (in L.A. alone, not to mention scattered about the country) vying to sell a film script or get a job on a television show’s writing staff.

To make things even harder, jobs aren’t always given out simply on the basis of talent.  Landing a job is a combination of being skilled enough to get the job, having experience working in the industry, and knowing the right people (most jobs are gotten by knowing friends or associates doing the hiring).

This doesn’t mean it’s impossible… or that there are thousands of hugely talented writers walking around looking for work.

Personally, I’m a big believer that cream rises to the top and most truly talented, focused writers get where they want to go.  Although to be honest, I don't know if there's any real truth in that... or if I just convince myself of it because-- well-- if you don't believe that, it's hard to remind yourself why you keep trying.  Either way, I guess what I DON'T believe is that the world (or even Hollywood) is full of incredibly talented writers who just can’t get their break.  Most people who aren’t working aren’t working for a reason.  Maybe they’re not good enough yet.  Maybe they haven’t networked enough.  Maybe they don’t understand the business well enough.  Maybe they don’t live in L.A. (like it or not, it’s almost impossible to be a working film or television writer anywhere but Los Angeles).

Having said that, I DO think that there are many ways of making a living as a professional writer and storyteller.  Write plays and stage them yourself.  Write amazing profiles or features for magazines and newspapers.  Publish a blog.  Do stand-up comedy.

I say all this not to discourage anyone from pursuing screenwriting or TV writing, but to say that "getting noticed" is often something out of your control... and there are many ways to scratch your writing/storytelling itch besides making TV shows and movies.  Not to mention... if you write a great stage play or a powerful short story/article, you may grab the attention of Hollywood anyway.  And it often seems that people only "get noticed" once they stop worrying about "getting noticed."

I guess the ultimate truth is: while OBVIOUSLY your goal is to be a working screenwriter, able to use your writing to support yourself, your lifestyle, and your family, you need to be pursuing screenwriting because you LOVE writing, and you LOVE storytelling, and you LOVE pairing together words and images and actions... not because you're dazzled by the lights of Hollywood or visions of dates with starlets or hopes of hanging out with Brad Pitt.  Which, sadly, is why many people come out here-- writers, actors, directors, you name it.  Yet at the end of the day, those that succeed in getting noticed are the writers and artists who work and sweat themselves to the bone... spending every waking minute perfecting their craft, immersing themselves in the industry, making and nurturing business relationships, etc.  ...so when they finally DO get their break, they're prepared-- creatively, mentally, emotionally, professionally-- to seize the opportunity and make the most of it.

Of course, there ARE certain things that almost definitely need to happen-- certain stars that do need to align-- in order to have a shot at getting noticed as a screenwriter:

•  You need to be living in L.A.

•  You need to have strong writing samples that prove you're a talented writer

•  You need to have a good network of professional contacts (which usually means living in L.A. for many months or years)

•  You need to have experience writing so an employer knows what you’re capable of

•  You have to be the right writer for the right project at the right time… or have the right project/script/pitch to sell at the right time (i.e., you may be the world’s greatest romantic comedy writer, but if an employer is looking for an action writer, they’re not going to hire you—no matter how good you are)

•  You need to be in the right place at the right time when someone is hiring (i.e. it’s easy to lose out on a job to someone else simply because… frankly… they happened to be there when the space needed to be filled)


4. After getting noticed is your work environment tough or enjoyable? Like hows the staff,crew,project,ect.

Like all jobs, I find this TOTALLY depends on the people you’re working with.  You might get a job on your favorite television show ever… but if you dislike the people you’re working with, you’ll be miserable every day of your life.  On the other hand, you could take a job on a film, series, or project that seems horrible… but if you connect with and love the people around you, it’ll be a blast.


5.Is their any on the job training involved?

TONS.  In fact—kind of going back to your education question—I’d say the best (maybe ONLY) way to learn how to live, work, and survive in Hollywood is simply to dive in and start DOING IT.  Hollywood has a very different work culture than almost any other industry, and no matter how many classes you take or books you read, you won’t understand it till you’re in it.

Understanding Hollywood’s culture—and how to navigate it—is especially important for writers… because unlike costume designers or propmakers or makeup artists, we don’t produce something “physical.”  Sure, there’s a script, but we’re basically sellers of storied and ideas, which are ephemeral, emotional, even psychological.  So while half of our job is being able write, to put words down on paper and move people, the other half is being able to socialize… to pitch ideas, collaborate, take criticism, offer criticism, etc.  

And while it sounds like much of this is simply innate and understanding how to be a nice, polite person (which is true), it also involves immersing yourself in Hollywood to learn the industry’s vocabulary and communication techniques.  I.e., how do you break a baby?  When should you beat a joke?  Who’s the second second?  How do you take the note behind the note?  

On one hand, this is all industry jargon that’s easy to pick up; on the other hand, these are all skills or bits of knowledge that aren’t really available until you’re on the job.  Which is why I always recommend people begin their Hollywood career at the bottom, working as a production assistant, doing grunt work on the set of a film or TV show where they can observe the processes and practices around them.

You can click here to check out an earlier post about getting a job as a P.A. (production assistant).


6. When writing does your company or advisor, give you any special equipment?

Not really—primarily because, as writers, our number one piece of equipment is in our heads!  If you’re working on a TV show, your company will often give you an office, desk, and computer… although most writers I know use their own computers.  Also on a TV show, the writers will all work together in one room called the “Writers Room,” which is equipped with a large table, chairs, and several dry-erase boards on which to write ideas and stories.



7. How long is a usual shift? and is their overtime?

This depends on the job.  In movies, most writers don’t go into an office… ever.  They write from home, or their own office, so they set their own schedules.

On a TV show, however, there IS an office.  Most writers start their days around 10 a.m., but the end of the day is different for each show.  Most TV writing staffs wrap up around 6:00 or 7:00.  A small handful have been known to have solid eight-hour days (Everybody Loves Raymond was famous for this.)  But many TV writing staffs work incredibly long hours, sometimes until midnight or later.  Many sitcoms, for instance, shoot an entire episode in one night… beginning around 5 p.m. and ending anywhere between 10 p.m. and 3 a.m.

And unfortunately, no—there’s usually no overtime.  TV writers are contracted to write a certain number of episodes.  If they finish those episodes ahead of their deadlines, great (although this never happens); if they need more time, fine… but they don’t get paid extra.

Movie writers are paid per project; they get paid when their script is delivered to the employer on deadline, regardless of how many actual hours they pour into it.


8. Do you and others follow by any schedual or routine to get the writing done in time?

Well, as I said above, movie writers are on their own to get their work done… although their employer may build certain “touchstones” into a project’s schedule.  In other words, if you get hired to write a horror movie that is due on July 1st, the company that hires you may want character descriptions by April 25th, a sketchy outline by May 1, a more detailed outline by May 7, a first draft of the script by June 1, a second draft by June 20, and a final draft by July 1 (that’s a SUPER tight schedule… but as an example, you get it).

How the writer budgets his or her time in there is up to them, but I think most writers like to have their own specific routine, whether it’s writing late at night or getting up early, running 5 miles, eating breakfast, and then writing at Starbucks.  But most writers find that having a specific routine helps train their writing muscles to work.

In television, however, where writers come in to an actual office, work together, and have tighter deadlines (because they need to shoot an episode each week), it’s a much more structured process.  As a team, writing staffs work begin thinking about what “larger” stories and themes their TV show wants to tell… stories that span many episodes and weeks.  I.e. on The Office, the Jim and Pam saga has spanned years.  Desperate Housewives tells a new mystery each season, and that mystery plays out over several months.  

The writing staff then brainstorms what individual story events, or “beats,” need to happen in order to bring these larger stories to life.  (I.e., if your TV show is telling a season long story, or “arc,” about a girl named JESSIE deciding to leave her fiance, we need to see several things: Jessie and her fiance together, Jessie being unhappy with her fiance, Jessie deciding to leave her fiance, Jessie deciding how to break up with her fiance, Jessie preparing for the break-up, Jessie actually breaking up with her fiance, Jessie in the aftermath of the break-up, etc.)

The writing staff then spreads these events over the course of a season, where each becomes the basis for—or even just a part of—its own episode.  Each episode is then outlined by the staff, then assigned to an individual writer to write.  Once the script is written, the writing staff often rewrites the script together, in the Writers Room, all at the same time.

Because TV shows must get an episode on the air each week, they are often under very strict deadlines to have outlines, scripts, and “shooting drafts” finished by specific deadlines.  So if the writing staff’s process is too slow, they’ll quickly feel the heat and pressure of being off schedule… and that slows down everyone else from the costume designers to the directors to the set-builders.


9. Is it nice to see a piece of your work transfer into televison, books, or magazines?

Yes!!  It’s awesome!!  I am by no means Hollywood’s most successful writer or producer, but I’m proud of the work I’ve done… and even though I’ve written articles and produced TV episodes, it’s still a thrill to see my name on screen or my byline in print.  It’s a little bit of validation telling you that this thing you love, this thing you set out to do, this dream you cling to because you’re afraid there’s NOTHING ELSE IN THE WORLD you’re capable of doing… isn’t just a hoax.  And believe me… most of the time, you’re pretty sure it’s just a hoax.  So seeing your name in print or on-screen is an INCREDIBLE feeling!


10.What is the average salary range for this position?

Salaries vary from job to job, and a writer’s salary on one job may be different from his or her salary on the next job.  It’s the writer’s job (or his agent or lawyer’s job) to negotiate his payment each time he gets hired… and, hopefully, to get an increase from the last job.  An entry-level writer probably gets paid only the minimum payment and may make $60,000-$70,000 per year.  Mid-level writers can make $200,000 per year.  And experienced showrunners, or head writers, can make well over a million dollars a year.  But it's hard to give a specific average salary because so much depends on the show, the network, the level, and the experience of each particular writer.

The Writers Guild, however, does mandate certain minimum payments.  The minimum for writing a single one-hour drama episode of television (like CSI or Law & Order), for instance, is $31,748.  For a half-hour (My Name Is Earl, Two and a Half Men), it’s $21,585.  Movies have a similar structure.  You can download the Writers Guild’s “Schedule of Minimums,” which details minimum payments for many kinds of film and TV writing HERE.


Anyway, I hope all this helps, Corey!  Good luck with the paper… and definitely write back and lemme know how it goes!

Chad

Hey, screenwriters—

First of all, thanks for all the emails… I’ve got a nicely full mailbag, and I’ll do my best to get to all your questions over the next few days.  In the mean time—keep the emails coming (they make me feel really popular)!

With the WGA strike over and staffing season only a few weeks away, many of the questions seem to be focusing on TV spec-writing.  The first comes from loyal reader Pam, who also took one of my mediabistro classes a few months ago.  Pam writes…

“I am a spec-writing neophyte.  You mentioned in your 2/12 posting those shows which you felt were this year's best bets.  My question then is, how exactly is a show deemed ‘spec-able?’  Those that are established?  Fan favorites?  Critic favorites?  You also mentioned a few shows to keep an eye on for the future.  Does this mean shows that just finished their first season generally aren't spec-able?

“And what's your take on the debate over writing a show you actually want to submit to?  Will the writers scoff at your attempt to write THEIR show?  A show with stories they are already familiar telling and characters whose voices they know?”

This is a question many people have, Pam—how do you know what specs are spec-able? 

Basically, you want to spec a show that the industry (execs, agents, showrunners, etc.) likes, follows, and respects.  But knowing what these shows are isn’t always obvious, and there’s really only one good way to figure it out each year: ask.  Talk to agents, execs, showrunners, etc.  They can tell you what writers seem to be writing, and—more importantly—what readers (agents, execs, showrunners, etc.) seem to be reading.  Very often, shows that seem like they should be spec-able aren’t, and vice versa.

Having said that, here are some rules and hints that can help you figure it out…

•  Shows in their first seasons are usually risky specs.  This is for three main reasons:

One: there’s no certainty they’ll come back, and if they get canceled, your spec is useless.

Two: first-season shows, even hits, usually need several weeks to find their feet and figure out exactly how they work.  They’re playing with stories, testing out characters, etc.  An actor who was supposed to play a pivotal role may turn out to be too weak and have his part diminished.  Another actor may “break out” and become a show favorite, so writers boost up his character.  Certain kinds of stories may turn out to work better than others.  Thus, while you may love a certain show right out of the gate, it hasn’t necessarily solidified itself to the point where it has set patterns and rules that make it spec-able.

And lastly: if it’s a new show (again—even a hit), not everyone may be watching it on a regular basis… so you may find that many people simply don’t know the show well enough to appreciate your spec.  And if people don’t have the knowledge to read your script, it reduces your chances of impressing a reader enough to get a job.

•  Older shows are also risky specs.  This is for a couple reasons:

One: the show doesn’t feel sexy, and while you definitely want to spec a show that’s solid enough that everyone understands it, you also want to spec something that feels fresh and exciting and edgy.  Law & Order may still be a successful franchise, and a few years ago every procedural writer in the world had a Law & Order spec, but it’s now been replaced by newer, more contemporary-feeling shows like CSI, Dexter, and Criminal Minds.

Two: agents and execs get bored of them.  This is possible even with hot specs… last year, for instance, everyone and their mother wrote an Office spec… and while it was certainly last year’s “hot spec,” people got sick of reading them.  So speccing an older show simply increases your odds of writing something people are already tired of looking at.

•  Don’t spec something too serialized.  Shows that are super soapy are tough to spec because their stories and characters change dramatically every week.  Try something that has at least some element of “standalone-ness.”  Even shows like Grey’s Anatomy, which loves to get wrapped up in its kaleidoscoping love triangles and relationships, does mostly self-contained episodes; each week not only has two or three “patients of the week,” but it’s bookended by Meredith Grey’s thematic voice over.  (Having said all this, there always exceptions.  I’ve heard that Gossip Girl may turn out to be a pretty hot spec next year… not necessarily this year, but next year… maybe.)

•  Monitor reviews in industry publications.  If you don’t know execs, agents, or showrunners to ask about current specs to write, you can get a sense of it from reading reviews in trades and magazines frequented by the industry.  Obviously: Variety and The Hollywood Reporter.  But also The New York Times and The LA Times.  Check out the top shows on iTunes.  These will help you identify the “watercooler” shows (shows people talk about around the watercooler at work) that may be speccable.

As for Part II of your question, Pam:  sending a spec to its own show…

This is usually a bad idea.  Many shows won’t even read specs of their own show for legal reasons.

For instance, let’s say you write a spec of 30 Rock in which Liz Lemon adopts a dog.  You send it to 30 Rock.  But what you don’t know… what you couldn’t possibly know… is that they’re working on a nearly identical story in which Liz Lemon adopts a kitten.  A few weeks later, you see this episode on TV and immediately believe they’ve stolen your idea—the story is nearly the same, jokes are the same, story beats are the same.  You sue the show.  Now everyone’s embroiled in a long and unnecessary legal battle that never should’ve happened.  So not reading specs of their own show protects both you and the show itself.

But it’s also not usually smart to send a spec to its own show because—while the staff may not “scoff” at the spec—they certainly feel they understand their show better than anyone out there.  And, for the most part, they’re probably right. 

For instance, let’s say you send your Liz-adopts-a-puppy spec to 30 Rock.  But what you don’t know… what you couldn’t possibly know… is that several months ago they talked about—and even worked on—a Liz-adopts-a-pet episode… and it didn’t work.  Maybe it wasn’t funny.  Maybe the network hated it.  Maybe they just got bored and scrapped the idea.  Regardless, you may have written a brilliant spec, but to them it’s an old, tired idea.  And trust me—most writing staffs have thought of almost everything you could think of.  If a show has 22 episodes a year, and each show tells 3 stories, that’s 66 stories a year.  But in order to get 66 good stories, the staff brainstorms well over a hundred stories.  So the odds of you impressing them with something completely original—and executing it better than they could—are slim.

You’re better off writing a brilliant spec of a different show, then wowing them with that.

Anyway, hope that helps, Pam...

Keep the questions coming, guys!  Talk to you soon…

Chad

Well, screenwriters-- here we are... the final day of the WGA writers strike.  As I write this, writers in New York and L.A. are casting their votes to end the last three months' work stoppage.  And the end of a work stoppage means only one thing...

It's time to get back to work.

TV networks have already announced which shows would be returning this spring, and ABC even gave 2008-2009 pickups to nine returning series, including Grey's Anatomy, Desperate Housewives, Dirty Sexy Money, and Pushing Daisies.  Numerous pilots have also been greenlit, and NBC is even greenlighting some projects-- like Kath and Kim and Robinson Crusoe-- right to series.  Which means we're looking at a pretty unconventional staffing season this year.

Some shows may begin hiring writers immediately.  Others will probably hire in late May, as usual.  And still others may hire throughout the summer.  The point is this...

It's to get your writing samples in shape.

Dust off that original material and finish that TV spec you've been procrastinating on.  The urge to hire writers is definitely in the air, and I've had several email conversations today with writers and agents alike on what TV specs may be hot this staffing season.

There weren't any huge breakout hits last fall... or even the previous year... so it's difficult to pinpoint exactly what specs people will be reading.  But here are my lists of what seem to be shaping up to be this year's spec-able shows...


COMEDY
30 Rock - Possibly the hottest comedy spec out there right now (which means people will probably be sick of reading it soon)
The Office - There was a massive glut of these last year, and people were pretty tired of them, but it's still a well-respected show... so if you got a hankering to write an Office spec-- go for it)
Weeds - Not the most-watched show, but it's well-respected and has a unique, edgy sensibility; paired with the right originals, this could be a very effective spec
Samantha Who? - I'm gonna be honest: write this at your risk.  It's a new show... and it was the closest thing TV had last year to a new hit comedy.  It's coming back next fall, and who knows how it'll do.  But if there's gonna be a new spec-able comedy on the market, it's probably gonna be this one.


DRAMA
Dexter - A widely respected show, with a dark, ascerbic sensibility.  This could be a huge spec this year (especially if it does well when it moves to CBS).
Mad Men - It may be just a tad too early to officialy declare this show as spec-able, but if I were a betting man (which I'm not), I'd say this could be a hot spec very soon.
Rescue Me - I would've thought this show was pretty tired as a spec, but I've talked agents who definitely like reading it still.
Californication - I say spec at your own risk, although there are definitely agents and execs out there who will read it.  Not a lot, but enough.
Grey's Anatomy - Yeah, this show's old news, but people still love it, and that includes execs, agents, and other writers.  I don't know if it'd be the number one show I'd tell you to spec, but if you love it and have a great idea for your story... go for it.
Criminal Minds - This show never seems to get a lot of buzz in industry circles, but it's a hit nonetheless, and there haven't been any size-able new procedurals for a while.  So again: maybe not the first thing I'd recommend, but probably spec-able.


SHOWS TO KEEP AN EYE ON
There are several series out there which may not be spec-able yet... but could be soon.  So keep an eye on them.  Also, if you're dying to spec one of them know, take a shot... if they become hot specs a few weeks or months down the road, you'll be the first one on the market.  If not... well... consider it an exercise that made you a better writer...

Pushing Daisies
Chuck
Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
In Treatment
Breaking Bad

Hey, screenwriters--

I'm pleased to introduce a special guest today... TV executive and producer Jennifer Grisanti. 

As a Current Exec at Spelling Television for over ten years, Jen has worked with some of the best writers, showrunners, producers and execs in Hollywood... people like Medium creator Glen Gordon Caron, NCIS producer Steve Binder, Numbers producer Ken Sanzel, and countless more writers and execs at every network and studio in Hollywood.  She's also helped maintain numerous hit shows such as Beverly Hills 90210, Melrose Place, Charmed, Medium, Numbers, NCIS, The 4400 and Girlfriends.  In addition, she has served as a mentor in the CBS Diversity Program, which seeks out and nurtures young writers and directors.

Jen has a reputation as being one of the smartest execs in town.  In fact-- and Jen probably doesn't even remember this-- Jen was in one of the first big meetings I ever had.  I was a baby writer interviewing to write on the final season of Beverly Hills 90210, and I met with Jen and showrunner John Eisendrath.  Unfortunately, they didn't hire me.  (The show probably would've lasted longer if they had.  KIDDING, JEN!)  But it was the beginning of a relationship that allows me to introduce her to all of you today.

And there's even better news: Jen has recently launched Jen Grisanti Consultancy, a consulting firm designed to help talented young writers, producers, and directors break into the industry (www.jengrisanticonsultancy.com).  Jen works with writers of all levels, helping to shape their material, hone their pitches, and focus their careers.  In other words... she's like having your own personal TV exec.

Today, Jen's here to talk about how she works with writers as an executive... as well as her new company and what it can do for you...


Jen... as a long-time TV executive, a huge part of your job was finding, acquiring, and shepherding new shows and show ideas.  In television, unlike in movies, most new shows are bought as pitches and concepts, not fully-written scripts.  When you’re in a pitch meeting, listening to a pitch for a new project, what do you—as an executive—need to hear to make you want to buy that show?  What do you need to hear in the architecture of the show itself, and what does the writer need to bring to the project?

JEN: As a Current Programs Executive, my feeling is that in the pitch meeting what needs to be heard is something unique and different.    Television has gotten to such a strong place in the past few years.  The audience has higher expectations because of shows like Mad Men, Damages, Dexter, etc.  It is about coming in with something that has an edge and something that it is easy to see where the future stories will come from.  


What are the biggest mistakes you tend to see from first-time pilot-writers?  In other words, for all the writers out there who may be taking a stab at writing their first pilot, what should they be extra-vigilant about making sure they don’t do?

As a Current Programs Executive, I’d say that the biggest mistake first-time pilot writers make is not having the pilot fully convey what the series will be.  It is so important that at the end of that first hour, the viewer wants to come back and knows what they’re coming back to see.  My feeling is that character is so important in the pilot phase.  Your characters add so much to why the audience will return.  Another mistake I think first time pilot writers make is trying to put too much into the pilot.  


One of the things that make new TV shows and pilot truly distinct is the “voice,” or point of view, of the writer.  And the shows we like best seem to have their own incredibly strong, unique voices… like Desperate Housewives, Weeds, or Everybody Loves Raymond.  Yet while we all seem to know what “voice” is… it’s often one of the toughest things for a writer to find and develop within himself.  What advice would you give an aspiring TV writer to help him find his own voice?  Any tips or exercises?

I would suggest that the writer go out to a coffee place/restaurant and sit and listen to the conversations of the people around them.  They should write down what they hear to get a stronger sense of how people talk and what sounds natural.  

As far as a “voice” it is about not being afraid to use your own life experiences.  I tell writers that when they are going through extremely painful circumstances or humiliating circumstances or joyful circumstances, they need to write it down.  Often what they are experiencing in that moment is a universal feeling that others will connect with.  Another exercise with regards to “voice” could be to think of all their friends, what differentiates them from their other friends, what characteristics make them unique, etc.  I also ask writers to think of a life identifying moment that happened and made them feel like they have something to say.  It could be their parents divorce, a time when they were abandoned in some way as a child, an awakening, a death of a family member, etc.  It is usually something that happens that gives them something to draw from in their writing.  It helps them to become more familiar with what their own “voice” is.


Developing a hit show takes huge amounts of trust, respect, and collaboration from writers, producers, and executives.  As a current exec, you gave notes to writers and producers working on shows already on the air.  But sometimes writers and execs disagree on a note.  How do you navigate situations where you and a writer disagree on something in a script or project?  What advice would you give budding writers on how to deal with notes they disagree with?

My approach towards giving notes is to have a discussion about the note.  My advice to writers with regards to notes is to hear the note first.  Often writers when they are new to the note giving process they are too busy defending the note that they don’t hear it.  If they take the time to listen, it helps the process.  With regards to disagreeing on a note, I think with conversation this can be solved.  I am not the type of executive who insisted that my writers take my notes.  I simply say I am offering a suggestion from my years of experience of how I view it from reading it and I tell them if you understand what I am saying and you can see a way to solve it, take the note.  Since I did take this approach, my notes were often made.  I trust the writer to know what is best for the script.   The writer should know that executives are not out to change their voice or put their mark on the writer’s material, they are there to make sure that the vision of the writer is clearly communicated on the page or to help guide them to a solution that might help their story to transfer better to the audience.


When it comes to writing pilots, one of the biggest controversies is whether or not baby writers—writers who haven’t yet been staffed—should write spec pilots, pilots that haven’t first been pitched and sold to a studio or network.  Some people say studios and networks rarely buy spec pilots, especially from babies, and writing a spec pilot is a waste of time… and a stamp of naiveté.  Others say networks and studios have opened up to buying spec pilots, and it’s now totally viable for a newbie to write and sell a pilot.  What do you think?  Should an aspiring TV writer try their hand at writing and selling their own pilot?

It is much harder for a baby writer to get a pilot sold.  However, it is possible.  I don’t think it’s wrong for a baby writer to write an original hour.  I think it is wise for a new writer to have a spec pilot.  So, if the pilot doesn’t sell, the writer still has an original script to send out.  Some showrunners will only ready original material.  As far as developing a pilot at the baby level, a writer should know that if they do choose to develop at this level, someone will be brought in to run the show and often their vision of the show will be taken over by this new person.  If they staff and wait until they are a Producer/Supervising Producer level, then they have a greater chance of developing a pilot in which they could run it and have a greater chance of the finished product being their own.  So, it’s all a choice.  If the baby writer has a very strong idea and doesn’t matter handing it over, it is a great experience to go through as far as growing as a writer.


The WGA strike is about to enter its fourth—and, hopefully, final—month.  Every day, there’s new speculation about how the strike will revamp the TV landscape and development process.  Whether it does or not—and to what extent—remains to be seen.  As someone who’s been working in TV for many years, how do you think the strike—and its fallout—will change the paths and opportunities for aspiring TV writers trying to break in?

I believe that the strike will have a major impact on television and the way that business is being done and on the number of opportunities that will be available for new writers.  I think because the studios have had a chance to see how well reality shows which cost a lot less can perform that there will be fewer pilots picked up and fewer jobs available.  Personally, I think for aspiring writers that the key is to have a wide range of material.  I also think that writers should be educating themselves with new media opportunities.  Since many feel that the business is changing so rapidly, it is important that the writer be open to change and be aware of what material is the best to have to get them work.


Talk to me about Jen Grisanti Consultancy.  What do you do, how do you do it, and who are you aiming to help?

I help develop the careers of writers and directors.  I utilize my 11 years of experience as a television executive at top studios with incredible mentors and I bring my knowledge to writers and directors to help them get their material where it needs to be to get them work, representation, etc.  This includes script consultation, writer coaching sessions, career consultation, representation consultation, etc.  My aim is to elevate their scripts and reels so that the writer and director will have confidence going in to meetings knowing that their material is in the best shape possible.