Friday, July 31, 2009

Characters Aren't Just Their Quirks

One of the notes I give most often on the scripts I read is that the characters lacked proper development. They weren't people. Today, I'm up to my second script of the day, and both make the error of characters having quirks but not personality.

Don't get me wrong, it's important to have a few quirks. They draw the audience give, make a character memorable...but only if done correctly. Only if the quirk is a reflection of a deeper aspect of the character. Think of people you know, and their unique quirks. Where do they come from? What do they say about that person? Your characters should be well-developed, they should feel like real people. And real people have layered personalities, the outer layer of which is generally their quirks.

For example, take Monk. He's OCD, which would be his quirk. But what does that really mean about him? Well, he's meticulous. Which makes him a great detective. And he's a little bit anal, which makes him hard to work with. You can feel like you know Monk, because he's not just another bland detective. He's a detective who took an attribute that could have held him back in his work, and turned it into something that makes him the very best.

Or in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Jason Segel's character ate cereal out of a giant salad bowl. So weird. So particular. So unique to Peter Bretter. But even more importantly, it was just a manifestation of who he is. A goofy sort of guy, still with a childish impulse, who's so down trodden he doesn't want to eat anything more than cereal. But if he's going to do it, he's going to do it in a big way. This quirk doesn't present itself continuously throughout the movie. Instead, other quirks come about that have the same birthplace. The same core.

So, don't make characters whose only unique quality is their stutter or their need to wear high platform shoes. Make them people, who because of who they are, would have to stutter or wear high platform shoes. Or both. A stuttering-platform shoe wearing character would certainly be unique. If they were real.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

How to Write a Spec Script

I'm currently in an amazing class, taught by two producers, one of whom used to head up the WB Fellowship program. This class is kind of her NY version of that program, in that we're learning how to perfect spec scripts, we're meeting writers, and getting notes from seasoned development execs.

I'm just starting to outline my spec (How I Met Your Mother, if you're interested). I went through (read: pitched) many ideas for the script, and got a lot of useful feedback about what works in a spec and what doesn't. Even though I thought I knew the basics of spec writing, I learned a lot just from talking to a woman who's spent years of her career weeding through specs -- she's literally seen it all. And is looking for something new and fresh.

So, the basics: A spec is script you write "on speculation" that you will get a job. You will not get paid for it. No one asked you to write it. In all likelihood, it will never get made. The most you should assume it will do for you is get you an agent or a staffing position on a TV show. Generally, specs are of shows that are currently on the air. However, original spec pilots have been making their way to agents. For our purposes, though, when I talk about spec writing, it's writing a spec of a show that currently exists.

What shows to write:
  1. A show that is currently on the air, showing new episodes
  2. A show that has been on the air for some time, or is so widespread everyone knows it -- for example, a show like the Mentalist would be okay because it's such a hit that Hollywood is paying attention. Better Off Ted still needs a few seasons under its belt, because the super-busy agent or producer reading your script probably hasn't had the need to Tivo it yet.
  3. A show that is likely to remain on the air for at least another season. You want as much life as possible out of your spec -- mostly so that you don't have to write one every few months -- but also that people in Hollywood see that you're paying attention and can capture the current voice.
  4. If you want to be a comedy writer, pick a half hour sitcom. Don't pick a dramedy. It's kind of a different beast. If you want to write dramas, pick an hour-long. It's best to have more than one spec under your belt (ideal these days is 2 specs and an original), so for comedy, write a multi-camera and a single-camera. For drama, write a serial and a procedural. Show that you're versatile. But don't be too versatile, ie, write an Office spec and a Law and Order. No agent will know what to do with you.
  5. Don't pick a show like Lost where you kind of have to be in on the mystery to know what to write next. Serial dramas are obviously harder than procedurals because of all the character dynamics that shift. But try to find one where you can have a stand-alone episode. A bad idea would be (something I attempted earlier this year) writing a Grey's Anatomy script this season. Since your script must be current, it's kind of impossible to write a script with characters who may or may not be dead.
  6. Find a show you really love, that you can spend hours watching and researching, whose characters you know, love, and understand. Because ultimately your passion will be what makes a script great.

I picked my show...what should the plot be?
  1. A stand-alone episode is best. Write something that can happen at any point and is not contingent on any of the characters' current relationships, unless those relationships are fairly stable. Otherwise, as soon as your characters move on in the actual show, your script is completely moot. Plus, execs/agents will think you're a bit of a dumbass for not realizing that.
  2. Don't make any major character changes. For instance, don't write Liz Lemon sleeping with Jack Donaghy. It's not up to you, and it doesn't show that you can write within the confines of the show.
  3. Don't revolve the show around a guest character. This includes having your story be about the main characters, but sort of contingent on the existence of a guest character. Keep to your show's main cast as strictly as possible. Even recurring guest cast is a bad idea...what if, unbeknown you, the actor who plays Intern Steve on Grey's Anatomy just got cast in his own pilot and will never be on the show again? Don't risk it.
  4. Stick to the main set of the show. Your characters should not venture off to foreign countries, or go to the movies if they always hang out at a bar, or anything like that. Show that you can use the world that already exists on the lot. On the off chance that your spec is good enough for the show to buy, don't let them hesitate because they'll need to increase budget to shoot your script. And even if you know they'd never buy the script, anyone reading yours will know this rule and expect you to follow it.
  5. Don't change the rules of your show's universe. For example, Dunder Mifflin can't start selling pencils in addition to paper. The vampires on True Blood can't start to fly. Chuck Bass on Gossip Girl can't start taking the subway.
  6. Competitions are dull. They're an easy way out, and too many specs use this device. It's boring to your reader because he or she has read it a hundred times before.
  7. Make sure your A story is for your lead character. For example, my How I Met Your Mother is mostly about Ted even though the other characters have carried shows in the past. The general concept of the show is that it's Ted's story, so my script will be Ted's story. Same for Grey's -- it should be Meredith's story. Or 30 Rock, make it about Liz.
  8. Make sure you have a B and C story, and that you balance them in exactly the same way that most of the show's episodes do.
  9. Take a known story and spin a brand new twist on it.
  10. Stay within the voice of the show. Understand what plots they tend to use, and use one like it, but one that is still wholly unique to both that show and the TV universe as a whole. Make sure your own voice comes through in your script but doesn't overshadow the voice of the show.
  11. Remember that the people reading your script have read scripts for almost every show out there. Don't recycle a plot from a show that's no longer on the air. Don't pick an obvious plot that would have worked really well for The Larry Sanders Show and submit it to 30 Rock. Chances are someone at some point wrote a Larry Sanders spec with that idea, and the person reading your 30 Rock may recall it. Be as original as possible!

This all sounds impossible, how do I do it?

  1. Research your show intensely. Rent the DVDs. Watch them straight through. Watch all of the extras. Listen carefully to the commentary, you can get some great ideas about how the actual writers come up with ideas and execute them, and how the people on the show feel about the characters and settings. Read as many scripts from the show as you can. www.scriptcity.com is a great resource, though you may have to pay $10 for a script (but when you're getting paid $3000 a week to write for the show you got hired on from that spec, you'll be okay with the fee.) Re-watch the show, taking notes of exactly what happens and when. Time the act breaks (now called "act outs" apparently). Time the scenes. Outline the show. I use graph paper to plot a curve of the show. Know that show so well that you can recite in your sleep and that you interact more with its characters than the real people in your life. Yes, be a crazy hermit. Total immersion. Read blogs. Read interviews. Read fansites. Watch webisodes, if applicable. (You don't want to copy a webisode plot by mistake!). Read the Episode Guide of the show (wikipedia is usually a good resource for this.)
  2. Watch similar shows to get a feel for plot lines that you can maybe add your own spin to, or things that you should avoid because they'll seem overdone. For example, no one can really write a spec of the cast of How I Met Your Mother getting trapped in Ted's apartment in real time, because it will be too reminiscent of the Friends episode "The One Where No One's Ready."
  3. Draw from personal experience. This was reiterated by almost every writer and exec who spoke to my class. Personal experience is where the rawest, funniest, most intricate stories come from. They'll be in your voice, they'll be unique, and they'll have that je ne sais quoi that readers crave. The truth compels people, and what you need to be is compelling.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Sexism

Amanda the Aspiring TV Writer linked to this blog on her site. It's a thoughtful essay on the subtle sexism still extant in Hollywood today.

And for more subtle sexism things, consider this info from New York Women in Film and TV.

It's odd to me that given the disparity between the genders in Hollywood, women still aren't considered minorities when it comes time for fellowship apps. Just saying.

Monday, July 6, 2009

It's All About Who You Know -- So How Do You Meet People?

When I decided that I was going to actively pursue screenwriting/TV writing as a full-time career, I was kind of nervous. It's hard enough to cultivate talent, but add to that the fact that it's who you know more than what you know that determines your success? I didn't know anyone. I had no family friends to pull favors from or anything like that. So I thought, I guess if I'm going to do this, I'll have to be one of those lucky few -- very few, I thought -- who make it based on merit alone.

But here's the thing. Yes, it is about who you know -- but no one ever said you have to start out knowing anyone. The trick is USING YOUR MERIT AND SKILLS TO MEET PEOPLE.

Here's a little bit about my journey -- and while I haven't yet achieved the success I want to, I'm only just starting out, and I can feel that this is the right path. I think understanding how I personally am finding success could help you navigate your own trajectory. I took a screenwriting course in college, went to the Summer Film Program at USC for 6 weeks, and applied like crazy to internships and script reading jobs while I was out in LA for the summer. I got a script reading job, partly because of an interesting resume, partly because the head of the management company had done the same program at USC years earlier and thought I was a)the kind of person he wanted reading scripts and b)going to learn a lot from combining my coursework with the job. (People in this industry really do want to help you learn, especially at your early stages). Months go by, nothing. I was applying above my "level." Not above my skillset, but above my experience. I randomly saw an application for an internship at a non-profit, New York Women in Film and Television, and applied. I got the job. The organization is all about providing opportunities for people to connect better in the industry and advance their careers. It's a great organization, and there are chapters worldwide -- so I'd suggest checking it out. I worked really hard at NYWIFT, and attended as many of the programs as possible. I did my best to be helpful, efficient, pleasant, and hard-working -- more on that later. I built close relationships with my peers and superiors, and was given the opportunity to staff and attend a writing seminar with two established producers, one of whom used to head up the WB workshop. It's a great class -- small, and selective. I make it my business to be as gracious and helpful as possible to both the teachers and the other students. And I'm getting some great mentorship out of the deal. I've also had informational interviews with panelists (executives) from some of the NYWIFT events, and gotten great information, budding friendships, and people to offer to look out for opportunities for me. Meanwhile, at one of the NYWIFT events, I met one of our board members, and we got along pretty well. When she had an opening for an internship/PA job at her production company, she emailed me asking if I was interested. Suddenly, I wasn't the person blindly applying for jobs. I was the person who knew the hirers -- who "cheated the system" and got the job without applying through craigslist or entertainmentcareers.net.

I started out not knowing anyone. And now I have many business cards of contacts, and I'm seeing results from those relationships. I've learned -- it's not about who you know. It's about who you meet, and how you conduct yourself when you meet them.

In the next post, I'll talk a bit about how to meet people, what to do at networking events, and most importantly -- how to succeed as an intern/assistant and make sure you get bumped up to the next opportunity.

In the meantime, for that last bit, check out Amanda the Aspiring TV Writer's article on the Dos and Don'ts of being a good assistant.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Voiceovers

Wow, it's been a while since I posted. I have a lot of great stuff coming up on pitching and networking. But for now, let's talk a bit about voiceovers.

I've found that there are generally two camps of people when it comes to voiceovers. The people who love them and the people who absolutely can't stand them. I definitely fall into the first category. A good voiceover can lure me in to a story, make me feel like I know the character, and sometimes share tremendous insight the way that a novel sometimes can. My favorite example of voiceover is from the season two episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer called "Passion."

Angel (or Angelus, because at this point he's evil) open the episode with the following:

"Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping...and waiting...and though unwanted..unbidded...it will stir...open it's jaws and howl. (Action sequence where Angelus bites a woman, Buffy gets into bed, Angelus looks in. Angelus comes into the room, strokes her hair as she sleeps. Watches her.) It speaks to us...guides us...Passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have?"

This voiceover works because it sets the tone for the episode, tells us something we otherwise wouldn't be able to completely understand just from visuals or conversation, and most importantly, make the audience think. The audience hears Angel say that, and realizes how much of our lives we give over to passion -- and for a second, we're Angel. We understand him. It makes the whole episode scarier.

There's a lot of voiceover out there that doesn't work, though. And even as a lover of the tool, I get so irked by improper V.O. to the point where it can taint my opinion on the script. So I can just imagine how people who hate the technique feel when they come across V.O. done poorly.

So here are some Don'ts of Voiceover:

1. DON'T include voiceover in the middle or end of the script if the character did not start the script with voiceover. If we haven't been in his or her head the whole time, we can't find ourselves there partway through the story.

2. DON'T include something in voiceover that is repeated in dialogue or in action. For example:
CHARLIE (V.O.)
I always knew I wanted to be a mechanic. Since I was a child, I've loved cars. Red cars. Yellow cars. All cars.

Charlie slams his locker shut. Bob approaches.

BOB
Dude, can you take a look at my car? It's been sputtering and I know you want to be a mechanic, so...

3. DON'T use voiceover when you have the option to use dialogue or action. That's just lazy. Voiceover is a last resort.

4. DON'T pepper the whole script with voiceover just for the sake of it. It doesn't legitimize the use of voiceover, it just makes it overkill. If we're in your character's head too much, consider telling this story in another format.

5. If you start the script with voiceover DON'T forget to end it with voiceover.

The bottom line is, make your voiceover perfect, dynamic, and irrefutable. Because a reader who appreciates the technique will love it, and a reader who hates the technique will let it go by.