A Writer's Life

The Voices in Our Heads

There's a terrific interview with my brother Tod over at The Writers Inner Journey. Here's an excerpt:

"That I am able to ruminate on these rather dark issues for great lengths of time is somewhat disturbing in that I think the difference between what is clinically considered insane and what is clinically considered a writer isn’t that different—we both have voices in our head for prolonged periods of time and, occasionally, have intense conversations with them—but I think the only time I’ve been frightened by an idea was when I didn’t think I knew how to write it or wasn’t confident in my ability to do the story justice."

Mr. Monk and Mayhem

There's a Q&A interview with me today over at the MAYHEM & MAGIC blog about me and my latest MONK novel. Here's a peek:

Lee, tell us about a bit about your latest book and your writing schedule

[...]My writing schedule isn't set in stone. I basically work on my books whenever I am not working on a script, or vice-versa. I have about four months to write each book, so I write anywhere and everywhere I can put pen to paper (or fingers to a keyboard). No matter what I am writing, I tend to do my best work between 8 pm and 2 am. Don't ask me why...my brother Tod is the same way.

Will you be guest speaker at any mystery conferences this year?

I'll be attending Left Coast Crime in L.A, the 3rd Annual Forensic Trends: Psychiatric & Behavioral Issues Conference in Las Vegas, the International Mystery Writers Festival in Owensboro KY, Bouchercon in San Francisco, and the Professional Pierce Brosnan Impersonator Convention in my living room.

The Mail I Get - Writing the Treatment

Bryon Stedman  asked me this question in a comment to another post:

I have a situation where a broadcast entity claims they want to hear my idea for a boxing series or made for TV movie. The characters belong to my family from a comic drawn by my father.

If a narrative is they way to go, what are the key points to include? Do I go as far as dialog and cameas shots and locations or simply text with main characters CAPITALIZED? Advice requested and appreciated.

A series treatment and a TV movie treatment are very different. A series treatment sells the characters and the franchise of the show...the relationships and format that will generate stories week after week. A TV movie treatment sells a story.

If the studio is already familiar with your Dad's comic, I don't know why they need you to come up with a series treatment...the strip itself sells that or they wouldn't be interested in the first place.

A series treatment isn't about telling a story...it's about describing the characters, how they interact within the unique format of your show. Who are they? What do they do? And how will who they are and what they do generate 100 interesting stories?

For a TV movie treatment, you're selling the characters and their story.  At this point, you're trying to sell the broadstrokes...they can pay you to work out the rest. Write up a punchy over-view of what happens in the story, as if you were writing a review of a great movie (only minus the praise). You want to convey the style and tone of the movie. But don't go into great detail. Keep it short, tight and punchy.And whatever you do, DON'T include camera shots or dialogue.

Don't fixate on treatment format, because there isn't one. Tell your story in the style that works best for you. Don't worry about whether the character names are in capitals or not (it doesn't matter). Concentrate on telling a strong story.

(This is a repost from June 2005...and it was a blog post on this topic from Scott Myers that inspired me to unearth it).

Dazed and Confused

I finished writing MR. MONK IS CLEANED OUT, my 10th original MONK novel, last night and delivered it to my publisher. I always feel a little bit dazed  and lost after finishing a book. It takes a few days for me to adjust to not having the story "in my head" all the time and to no longer feeling that ever-present deadline pressure. It's also kind of odd to suddenly have a bunch of hours open up in my day (and nights) for other things. But that will change soon. I've got to start writing a new spec feature script, thinking about the plot of my next MONK novel, and preparing for pitch meetings that I have later this week and early next week... 

The Mail I Get

I've been getting variations of this email a lot lately, so I thought I'd share my answer to this one here:

Lee, 

 I was wondering about your time management. How long does it take for you to write your blog everyday, and what type of writing schedule do you have, and is it iron-clad? Do you keep a notebook with you in case ideas pop up when you are doing errands, etc.? Do you have moments when you don't know where your current story is going, and how do you fix that?

Love your books,

Thanks,

Teri

I prioritize based on deadlines, Teri. The project with the nearest deadline gets the most attention. Then again, sometimes I prioritize based on money. The project that's paying me the most gets my immediate attention...I mean, I am not going to move a project that's paying me, say, $3000 ahead of something that's paying me $35,000. That said, I've never missed a deadline, even when I had two broken arms, regardless of how much (or how little) I was getting paid.

I don't blog everyday. Sometimes I will blog two or three times in one day...sometimes I will go a week or more without blogging. I use the blog as a way to warm up before writing, or as a way to avoid writing, or as a way to stay at the computer when the writing isn't going well. You can sometimes tell by the nature of my posts how I'm using my blog at any given moment... (well, at least my brother Tod can tell). 

I do carry around a notebook for ideas,  story points or scenes for whatever I happen to be working on at any given time. I never leave the house without a notebook or a book to read. 

What question haven't I answered? Oh yes, I often have problems with my books and scripts. I fix them by, well, fixing them. Often the problem lies not in the scene I'm struggling with but with the bigger story or character point that got me there.

I always outline before I write...so at least I know where i am going and roughly how to get there....but I inevitably deviate from the outline.

The Writer is God

The Guardian reports that the only way to raise the quality of UK television series is to adopt the showrunner/writing room system prevalent in the U.S. They write, in part:

The only way to produce sophisticated, rich, long-running drama like The Wire or even ER is to use a team of writers who collaborate under a showrunner, a system the US studios has cracked. It's too much for even one great dramatist to write the whole thing, but you can't hire hack writers to work on episodes in isolation. Result: US viewers sit down to an evening of Damages; we get Casualty

The short Guardian piece was in response to a terrific essay by Peter Jukes in Prospect Magazine, where he wrote, in part:

in US television drama “the writer is God.” This is not because of literary cachet—it’s arisen out of aesthetic, technical and commercial need. Drama is incredibly expensive to make and economies of scale kick in when stories are told over 13 or 24 episodes. They cannot be written by one person alone, nor can they be effectively controlled by studio executives, actors or directors, whose talents by definition lie elsewhere. It requires a team of writers willing to develop character and narrative over a long haul, keeping it focused and fresh. It’s not the writer, singular, who is God in US television drama, but the role of the writer, generic, in the process.

 [...]Although we are blessed with a tradition of great television dramatists, there’s no way that Alan Bleasdale, Dennis Potter or Jimmy McGovern could have written a dozen episodes of a show alone. We have recently imported the idea of showrunners for the resurrection of Dr Who and Survivors, but their power is limited, and the principle of collaboration doesn’t penetrate the lower echelons. Script editors and producers take a dim view of you talking to another writer without tight supervision. There is no financial incentive either. Why make someone else’s episode great when it might make yours look less good? Given that the running order can be changed at the last moment by management fiat, those collectively crafted character developments and story arcs will be binned anyway. Just write your own episode and cash that cheque.

I recommend Jukes' article, it's fascinating reading.

Editorial Guidance

My Uncle Burl Barer is an Edgar-award-winning author of a dozen books but that doesn't make the job of writing any easier...in fact, he's having some trouble with is current project.

There is something not right about my current book in progress, and it is driving me crazy. [...] So far, at the request of my editor, I've done a complete restructuring of the book, and still it doesn't "sing." Tomorrow I'm calling "headquarters" - the executive editor -- and consulting on what I need to do to make this baby at least hum.

Thankfully, Burl has something most self-published authors do not... an experienced editor provided by the publisher at no charge to him.

Editors are the inspired clergy of the literature religion. They comfort, admonish and encourage. They bring out the diamond potential in our prolix lumps of coal. I am blessed with the editors at Kensington Publishing, headed by the resilient and insightful Michaela Hamilton. Mike Shol is currently editing the manuscript of Fatal Beauty, and it is all coming together. Whew. I pity authors who don't have the blessing of a world-class editor. I've been very lucky. My first book, THE SAINT: A Complete History was edited by Steve Wilson at McFarland & Co. I doubt I would have snagged the Edgar were it not for his guidance. One of the tragedies of self-published (ie self-printed) books is often the lack of editorial guidance, not to mention the lack of sales.

Sadly, many "self-published" authors have gone the vanity press route because they believe their work is perfect "as-is" and reject any suggestion that their book may be flawed in some way (which is one reason why the self-publishing companies are known as "vanity presses"). These aspiring authors don't recognize the importance of editing and rewriting, of having an experienced, and objective, outside perspective on their work. All they are interested in is seeing their book "in print" as quickly as possible without having to "jump through all those hoops" or letting anyone meddle with their "artistic vision." And that's why so much of what is self-published out there is unreadable slop.

What is it... Really?

TV writer & blogger Will Dixon has taken some points I raised on how mysteries are constructedand expanded on them as they apply to sf, horror and fantasy shows . He wrote, in part:

when it comes to constructing the plot for good genre mysteries (like X Files; Buffy; Angel; Firefly...and today you've got Supernatural; Smallville; Warehouse 13; Sanctuary; even Chuck, etc.), there is one question always be asked: 

What is it...what is it really. 

 (In the case of procedurals and investigative mystery programs like 'Veronica Mars' or 'Castle' or 'Bones', the mantra becomes: Who is it...who is it really.)

[...]Of course, this is just one aspect to telling a good mystery story. To take it to the next level, you also need to pick an overall theme to flesh out the episode.

Dixon offers some examples from Buffy The Vampire Slayer to back up his points. His observations are well worth reading.

Stephen King's Rough Draft

Stephen King's upcoming novel UNDER THE DOME is a reworking of a manuscript called THE CANNIBALS that he wrote and abandoned in 1989 which, itself, was a rethink of a novel he abandoned in the late 1970s. King is sharing the first sixty, original, typed pages...with his handwritten changes...of that 1989 manuscript on his website and it's a fascinating peek into how he works.

(Thanks to Duane Swierczynski for the link)

My Job is to Write

Writer-producer Diane Ademu-John pointed me to this excellent blog post by author John Scalzi on dealing with strangers who want screenwriters and novelists to read their  work, listen to their pitches, etc. He says, in part:

Dear currently unpublished/newbie writers who spend their time bitching about how published/established writers are mean because they won’t read your work/introduce you to their agent/give your manuscript to their editor/get you a job on their television show/whatever other thing it is you want them to do for you: A few things you should know.

1. The job of a writer is to write. So, I’m looking at one of my book contracts. It says that I need to write a certain type of book (science fiction) of a certain length (100,000 words) by a certain time (er… Hmmm). In return, I get paid a certain amount of money. So that’s the gig.

Here’s what’s not in the contract:

1. That I critique the novels of other people; 

2. That I offer any advice to people on how to get published; 

3. That I arrange introductions to my agent, editor or publisher; 

4. That I do any damn thing, in fact, other than write the book I’ve agreed to write.

The job of a writer is to write.

To which you may say, “Yes, but –” To which I say, you’ve gone one word too far in that sentence.

The rest of the piece is just as brilliant. He's basically saying the same things that Josh Olsen did, only without the anger and profanity that turned off a lot of people.

Farscaping with Carleton

There's a great interview with my buddy Carleton Eastlake over at The Write Blog, talking about his experiences writing & producing shows like BURNING ZONE, SEAQUEST, FARSCAPE, and OUTER LIMITS. He says, in part:

I think good science fiction and fantasy, because they break some or many of the rules of the real world, require that the rules of the imagined world be interesting and consistently applied. So much more attention needs to be paid to the mythology. At the same time, there’s more room, if done in a credible way, to keep things fresh by evolving those rules, making new discoveries…here come The Borg with all sorts of new moral and psychological issues – and very different spacecraft!

On the other hand, it’s a little harder to keep the dramatic, psychological side of a science-fiction show compelling. It’s easier to ignore those concerns or be distracted from them. But if the show is consistent about its rules, then the character side of the show can absolutely work. Crichton and Aeryn on Farscape were very much in love and very much troubled by the moral conflict between running away and having a life, or staying and fighting to save their societies.

It’s also important in a science fiction show that the plot issue of the day be motivated by the implications of the world the show is set in. Attempts to do actual medical or criminal or legal procedural shows in a science fiction setting are very, very hard to pull off – the science fiction side undermines the credibility of the procedural issue, and the procedural issue rarely delivers on the magic and wonder of the setting.

Me on Me

The second part of Lori Ham's interview with me is now up on her No Name Cafe site. Here's an excerpt:

Café: What do you like best and which is harder — writing novels or TV? 

Lee: They are entirely different experiences. Television is very much a group effort and what you are writing is a blueprint that lots of other people are going to use as the basis for their creative work, whether it’s the actor, the director, the production designer. And when you write a script it’s not locked in stone. It’s going to change. It’s going to change because everybody has notes. It’s going to change because production concerns force rewrites. It’s going to change because of actors and directors. 

A book is entirely my own and unaffected by production concerns or actors. I’m the actors, the director, the production designer [...] It’s not a blueprint. It is the finished product and it won’t change much once I am done with it. It’s not a group effort — I plot it myself and I write it by myself. It’s entirely in my head and I live it for months. Creatively speaking, there’s a big difference between writing prose and writing a script. In a book, you are seducing the reader. You are bringing them into your imagination and holding them there for as long as they’re reading the book. You construct everything. You construct the sets, the wardrobe, the world. You’re God. You can even read a character’s thoughts. 

Work Work Work

If you're a regular reader of this blog, you've probably noticed that I haven't been posting as much lately. That's because I've been hard at work writing an action movie, an international co-production that is presently scheduled to be shot before the end of the year in Europe and China. 

For the last few weeks,  I've been toiling on various drafts of the detailed beat sheet but, if everything goes according to plan, I will start writing the screenplay in the next week or so. That will give me about four weeks to write the script which for me, coming from years in episodic TV and armed with a ridiculously detailed beat sheet, feels like plenty of time (we'll see if I feel the same way once I'm in the thick of it). 

While I await the official greenlight, I will go back to writing MR. MONK IS CLEANED OUT, my next Monk novel, which I had to mostly set aside while I concentrated on the film. This morning I re-read and edited what I've written so far, so I'm ready to plunge back in. I've also got the galleys for MR. MONK IN TROUBLE arriving tomorrow that need to be proofed in the next two weeks. 

It's nice to be busy! 

In the midst of all this, my Kindle arrived last night and I've only just started to play around with it, but I'm beginning to see already why it has become so popular. I'm looking forward to reading a novel on it to really get a feel for it. That probably won't happen until I hop a plane on August 12 for Owensboro, Kentucky to be a guest at the International Mystery Writers Festival.

"Before I was a TV writer, I was a street poet..."

Screenwriter, novelist, and teacher William Rabkin reveals the method to his madness, and gives some good career advice to aspiring screenwriters, in an interview at Write On today. Here's an excerpt:

How important is diversification for a writer?

I’m a big advocate of diversification. Right now, all our markets are shrinking—not a great problem if you’re, say, the showrunner of Desperate Housewives. But for the rest of us, we’re watching TV staffs shrinking, original screenplay sales diving, publishing in serious trouble. We can’t know where the next opportunity is going to come from—so it’s best to make yourself available for as many opportunities as possible.

How can a writer best get his or her work noticed?

Write really well. Oh, and if you can show up in a sex tape with a celebrity, that would help, too.

A TV Truism

Canadian TV writer Denis McGrath posted on his blog a simple TV truism that is nonetheless often taken for granted in this business:

The process of making a Friday Night Lights, or The Wire, or The Shield, is exactly the same process that results in Being Erica. It's just as much work to conceive of, break story for, and execute a little confection like Ugly Betty or Reaper or Cupid as it is to make The West Wing.

No matter what the show is, whether it's winning Emmys or going unnoticed, it still boils down to a showrunner and a bunch of writers in a room, breaking stories that can be told in four acts and shot in X number of days for X amount of money.

Seven Weeks

UK-based Writer/producer Stephen Gallagher takes you step-by-step through the seven weeks between the initial conception of an ELEVENTH HOUR episode idea and the start of filming. His experience is typical of American episodic television production...and very, very different from the way things are done in the UK...where the same process can take months, if not longer.

Here's the nub of it. It looks fast and scary. But for the writer, the actual amount of work in turning out an hour-long script for American TV barely differs from that involved in creating script for a UK hour. The difference is that the US system edits out the soul-destroying longueurs between stages, while your script sits on someone's desk or some executive disappears on holiday. It's the same act of writing, but you get to do it in real time; and because of that, you don't run the risk of anyone - you included - falling out of love with what you're doing.

Bend

Writer/producer Lisa Klink, elaborating on Bill Rabkin's great essay on crafting spec scripts, passes along some important advice to aspiring TV writers. Yes, creativity is important. Yes, writing skill is important. Yes, people skills are important. But all of that won't move you forward in the television business unless you possess the most important talent of all: flexibility.

Which isn’t the same as spinelessness. You have to be willing to fight for the key elements which make your script work. You also have to be willing to change or even throw out elements you love if they’re not really crucial. Or affordable. Want to make yourself indispensable to a showrunner? Be the writer who can take any mess of an idea, stupid studio notes or ridiculous budget restrictions and still crank out a gem of a script.

Breaking In

Screenwriter, producer, teacher, novelist and bon vivant William Rabkin has written an excellent article on Storylink about what a newbie writer has to do to break into television. You've still got to write an episodic spec script, but...

Your spec can’t simply be a good episode. It’s got to be bold, audacious, and big. It has to go places no one has ever thought of going before and do things no one has imagined doing. And it’s got to do it on the first page. Hell, on the first half page, because your reader may not bother going further than that. You’ve got to grab your readers right away and force them to keep reading.

In short, you need a gimmick.

No, typing your script in 3-D and including polarized glasses isn’t going to do it. What I mean by a gimmick is a transformative approach to storytelling that allows you to retell the series’ underlying narrative in a way that makes it seem new again. It’s a stylistic or structural element that shows that your vision is so intriguingly different that showrunners will fight to bring it to their series.

"Take Me To Your Leader, Lee Goldberg"

One of the biggest, most persistent, and bone-headed cliches in TV & movie science fiction is the alien and/or robot who enunciates every syllable when he speaks, doesn't use contractions, and calls everyone by their full name. Where did these aliens learn English? From watching movies about space aliens coming to earth? They can master travel at light speed, but can't figure out how to say "don't" instead of "do not?" Or why doesn't someone, as William Rabkin laments, ever tell them:  

“In English, we have a last name that we share with our family and a first name that uniquely identifies us. And if you want to pass unrecognized as an alien, it’s important that you learn this distinction.” 

So why does this ridiculous conceit continue in movie after movie? Pure laziness [...]it’s such a hideous cliche by now that you’d think even the aliens would have figured it out…

Apparently, the new WITCH MOUNTAIN remake is the latest offender to perpetuate this hoary cliche...

Of course, the cliche that comes next is the alien asking "what is this thing humans call love?" If I recall, the bad remake of DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL pulled that one, too. 

Lazy Days and Beloved Characters

I finished writing my latest MONK novel the other day and I felt like lazing around. I've had a lot on my mind lately and after writing a book I didn't feel much like reading one. So I vegged out on television...some new, some old. 

The "new" were the latest episodes of BATTLESTAR GALACTICA and TERMINATOR: THE SARAH CONNOR CHRONICLES.  

The BATTLESTAR episode was, astonishingly, one hour of pure exposition...mightily well-written, grandiose and flowery exposition, but exposition all the same....the dreaded "Irving the Explainer" taken to new, galactic heights by three Cylon-the-Explainers. Only a serialized series on it's last episode or two that doesn't give a damn anymore about drawing new viewers would dare film an episode like that and call it entertainment (though Marc Bernardin at Entertainment Weekly thought it was so "revelatory" that it "melted my Goddamn face off.")

The TERMINATOR episode was merely dull and totally uninvolving, relying heavily on the over-used trick of having the hero (or in this case, heroine) talk to an imaginary character. Alan Ball should be shot for doing it so effectively on SIX FEET UNDER because now every TV series has to do it. Nobody seems to have noticed that it became a cliche three years ago and is now slipping into unintentional parody. At least the folks on GREY'S ANATOMY have raised the stakes by having the heroine fuck the character who isn't there...oh, wait, I take it back, GALACTICA did that two seasons ago when it still had a sense of humor to go along with all of its dread and misery. The folks at TERMINATOR have forgotten what made the TERMINATOR movies so much fun...and have gotten mired in dreary angst...probably because angst is cheaper to shoot than Terminators destroying things. The John Connor character has become a morose, whiny, Excedrin headache come-to-life...but the two lady Terminators? They're great. 

The "old"  TV that I watched was a private eye marathon that I staged for myself with episodes of HARRY O starring David Janssen, THE OUTSIDER starring Darren McGavin and THE ROCKFORD FILES starring James Garner.

THE OUTSIDER and ROCKFORD were, essentially, the same show, about a down-and-out ex-con turned private eye in L.A. Roy Huggins created THE OUTSIDER and co-created ROCKFORD with Steve Cannell, who brought more humor to the concept.  I liked all three of them very much ..not so much for the plotting, which was often weak and predictable, but for the mood and the terrific anti-private eyes at the heart of those series (and the brilliant lead actors who played them). Nobody did world-weary heroes and lovable losers like McGavin, Janssen and Garner.  It's hard to pick a favorite among these three great series, but if I had to, I guess it would be HARRY O.  

Janssen is a pleasure to watch as beach-bum Harry Orwell, riding around San Diego on the bus, tie loose around his collar, a permanently pained expression on his tan, lined face. What a terrific character. Both Rockford and Ross were tougher than they looked, but not Harry. He wasn't tough at all. Just bone-tired and lonely...and too caring for his own good. He couldn't even run after a bad guy or a damsel in distress, not with that damn bullet permanently stuck in his aching back. What other private eye but Harry would turn down a willing Linda Evans by saying "I can't make love unless I'm in love...just a little." Ross and Rockford would have bedded her in a second...out of desperation and opportunity if nothing else. Not Harry.

Sure, the plotting in HARRY O was often lousy, but the show captured, better than any other before or since, the pure pleasur of reading a great PI novel. The show wasn't as complex as a Ross MacDonald or even John D. MacDonald novel, but it aimed for that kind of emotional and psychological complexity...even when it pandered with a drooling psychokiller plot (starting with it's pilot, "Smile Jenny, You're Dead"). 

Watching HARRY O, ROCKFORD and THE OUTSIDER, I realized what those old shows had over those two, recent episodes of GALACTICA and TERMINATOR. Character. Keep in mind, GALACTICA and TERMINATOR are two of my favorite shows (well, they were). But, at the risk of sounding like an old coot blogging from his bungalow at the Motion Picture Home, I think that too often shows today confuse angst with character, dread with depth, misery with complexity. A character doesn't have to be in endless spasms of self-loathing, denial, heart-break and agony to be someone worth watching or caring about. That's cheap and easy "complexity" for a writer, it's writing a character rather than creating one...and it's a beating for the audience. Characters are more than the sum of their pain, anguish and loss...and their capacity for cruelty to themselves and others.  It's not superficial or weak writing to explore more subtle conflicts...and to season them with humor, compassion, vulnerability, and some joy. There are people I love very much who are going through very hard times...and yet they haven't lost their sense of humor or their ability to find joy in their lives, even in their darkest moments. If anything, it's that capacity for humor and joy that is seeing them through it.

I love (or, I should say, loved) GALACTICA and TERMINATOR...but Captain Adama and Starbuck, Sarah Connor and John Connor....in the end, they aren't memorable characters. They feel like writerly constructs. Pain masquerading as character. They don't live and breath the way Lt. Columbo, Tony Soprano, Archie Bunker, Adrian Monk, Al Swearingen, Mr. Spock, Mary Richards, Matt Dillon, George Costanza, or even Dexter Morgan do, to name a few. Because despite all of the dark, angst-ridden conflicts that the writers have created for them, the characters on GALACTICA and TERMINATOR are incessantly one-note: Miserable. And too often than not, they leave the viewer feeling the same way.

Writers Write

James Reasoner is one of the most prolific authors that I know...he's had hundreds of books published, mostly in the western genre. And yet very few people know who he is. Why? Because the majority of those books don't have his name on them (they were written under "house names" owned by the publisher or a literary estate).

For a lot of authors, the most important thing to them is seeing their name on the cover. But for James (pictured on the left hard at work), the most important thing is to make a living writing, something he loves to do and is very good at:

At one point in my career, I had published more than eighty books, only one of which (TEXAS WIND) had my name on it. People used to ask me how I could write a book knowing that my name wouldn’t be on it, and my stock answer was “I don’t care if my name is on the book as long as it’s on the check.” Of course, that’s not exactly true now and wasn’t then. I’d love to be able to just write what I want, sell it, and have my name on it. But being able to keep writing, period, is more important to me.

It's a refreshing...and dare I say it, professional...attitude that you don't find much today. So many aspiring writers rush to self-publishing companies simply because they want the experience of seeing their name on a book cover, even if they have to spend thousands of dollars to do it. But James is different. He's a real writer and a true professional. I wish there were more like him:

There are dozens of books out there now with my name on them, and I’m thankful for each and every one of them. I hope there’ll be more in the future. But as long as I can keep writing, one way or the other, I’ll be okay. That’s just me. I don’t really think that’s the only way to carve out a career – I’m sure every author has a different approach – but I feel like I’ve played the cards that were dealt to me and won more than I’ve lost.

I know how he feels. I think I may have told this story here before, but...a couple of years ago, it was down to Bill Rabkin & me against one other candidate for the co-exec producer job on a major hit series. The showrunner couldn't choose between the us and the other guy. So we met with the studio chief, who would be deciding who ultimately got the job. The interview was going great, and I was feeling real good about our chances, until the studio chief said:

"I only have on reservation about you two. Why don't you have sexier credits?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Why haven't you ever worked on Law and Order or CSI?"

"Because we never had the opportunity, either because we were working on something else when they had openings or they weren't interested in hiring us when we were available," I said. "In the course of our career, we didn't have the luxury of picking and choosing our jobs as much as we would have liked. We have families and had to make a living so we took what came along and what interested us. But if you like us, our writing, our producing philosophy, and the way we tell stories, what difference does it make whether we worked on CSI or Diagnosis Murder?"

We might also have mentioned that our friend Terry Winter was working on SISTER SISTER when he got hired on the SOPRANOS, where he won Emmys and WGA Awards. His previous credits include THE NEW ADVENTURES OF FLIPPER and XENA. Not exactly the sexiest credits.

Well, it goes without saying that we didn't get the job. They hired someone with sexier credits. And fired him thirteen episodes later.

I like seeing my name in print and on the TV screen, but I consider myself first and foremost a working, professional writer. I write because I love it, but I also write to earn a living. Sometimes my creative or personal desires have to take a backseat to simply having a job. I don't think that Terry or I wrote for FLIPPER because we had a burning need to tells stories about a clever dolphin. We did it because writing is what we do and how we pay our bills.

UPDATE 12-20-2008: Bill Crider reviews James Reasoner's latest LONGARM novel (written under the house name "Tabor Evans.") And here's a Saddlebums review of one of Reasoner's 2007 LONGARM tales and an interview they did with him.

A Day in the Life

In many ways, today was pretty much a typical working day when I'm not on a show. 

I began by returning a call from Germany from Peter Bondy, the writer who translates my MONK books for my German publisher. He had some questions about MR. MONK IS MISERABLE, which is he just about finished translating. I alway enjoy talking to him and really appreciate that he takes the extra effort to double-check names, jokes, and references with me before making any changes. 

I answered some emails and then I called a studio executive to make sure he had everything he needed on the written version of a series treatment before he takes it out to possible c0-production partners in January. He did. I wished him a happy holiday and we made plans to touch base in the new year.

I spent the next a few hours rewriting the MONK pages I wrote last night, had a quick lunch, and went to the post office to mail copies of my MR. MONK IS MISERABLE book to the folks mentioned in the acknowledgments. I picked up my daughter from school and came home.

I opened a fresh Diet Coke, grabbed a handful of almonds, and  made some small fixes in a screenplay at the request of the producers who optioned it from me. They are about to send it out to some actors for a holiday read and there were a few scenes involving one character that needed to be slightly tweaked. That took an hour or two.

And then I started writing some new pages in the MONK book. So, naturally, here I am procrastinating on my blog. I'll get back to the book once I've posted this, then I'll make dinner for my family, and write until bed time.

Tomorrow, it begins again. I'll probably start by rewriting what I wrote today, answer some emails...

Speaking of routines, author HelenKay Dimon pointed me to this site that chronicles the daily writing routines of famous writers.

Putting on your Comedy Hat

Earl Pomerantz has posted another wonderful anecdote from his days writing and producing Major Dad.

I meet with McRaney and his manager to discuss the problems McRaney’s having with the scripts. At some point in the discussion, McRaney’s manager, coincidentally a former Marine, says, “Now, putting on my ‘comedy hat’….”

I, internally, hit the roof, and bang my head against it a few hundred times. I’m not a Marine. I don’t claim, and never have claimed, to have a “Marine hat.” McRaney’s manager had never been involved in a comedy. Where the heck did he get a “comedy hat”!?

If you love tv, you should be reading Earl's blog.

Specs Appeal

I don't have the time to gamble on writing a book on spec right now, so I decided to put together a book proposal instead. In fact, that's how I sold MY GUN HAS BULLETS back in the early 90s to St. Martin's Press. 

I've just  finished writing the sample chapters. It's about 35,000 words and, dramatically speaking,  the narrative equivalent of the first act of a three-act movie. It sets up the characters, the stakes and the obstacles ahead. In other words, everything is set in motion. 

Over the next day or so I'll write up a punchy, broad-strokes outline of the rest of the novel. I don't know if the sample chapters are any good, or if my agent will think that the idea is marketable, or if any publisher in this economy will buy the book, but I am as satisified with it  and pleased with myself for meeting my personal deadline of Dec. 1 to get the package done.

Now I'll set those characters aside (if I can) and concentrate on writing my next MONK book.

Writers Write

My friend Lisa Klink has some great advice for TV writers who are finding it very cold out there right now:

Budgets have been cut and writing staffs have been reduced, resulting in more competition for jobs.  Some experienced writers are taking less money and/or lower titles just to keep working.  Networks are ordering fewer pilots, which is also increasing competition among writers trying to sell shows.  There’s a general tension and uncertainty in the air, which makes the people doing the hiring less inclined to take chances on unproven talent.

Depressed yet?  I don’t say all this to be discouraging, just to offer some perspective.  If you’re not getting the opportunities you’ve been hoping for, it probably has less to do with your talent as a writer than the stressed-out state of the business.  So what’s a writer to do?  What we do best.  Get creative.  Expand your horizons beyond television to other media: video games, web series, graphic novels, etc.  Get (or borrow) a digital camera and make a short.  Write a one act play and stage a reading.  Explore every possible way to get your work seen and produced.

None of this is to suggest that you should stop writing new specs, meeting new people and looking for TV work.  But in addition to a full-frontal assault, try coming at the TV biz sideways.  Having any kind of success in any medium will distinguish you from your competition.  More importantly, I think it’s psychologically helpful to any writer frustrated with the business to find other creative outlets.  Take a break from beating your head against the wall and have some fun with your talent.  Remind yourself that you are actually a good writer - and become an even better writer while you’re at it.

She's right. As my grandfather used to say, "You can't catch fish with your line in the boat" (it's amazing how many different situations I can apply that advice to, just like he did). That's why I am always working on several things at once.

Today is a good example. I had a pitch at FX, I did some research for my next "Monk" novel (which is due in April), I wrote five pages of my "standalone" novel, got notes on a spec script I've optioned to some producers,  and I started sketching out some ideas for a pitch I have on the 13th.

I have my professional ups and downs, and personal ones as well, but no matter what I am always writing something. Even when I had two broken arms. It's how I stay sane and it's probably how I stay in business.

Beached 4

The sun was out today in Myrtle Beach, where  I am speaking at the South Carolina Writer's Conference. I had some interesting encounters today...in the elevator, a woman said  to me:

"How much of your books does Tony Shalhoub write?"

"He doesn't write any of part of them," I replied.

"Then why is his face on the cover?"

"Because  he plays Adrian Monk on the TV show."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Don't you think that's deceiving readers?"

Another woman came up to me later in the day and said "Your books are very funny. Why aren't you as funny in person?"

Before my screenwriting seminar, a woman approached me and said "I'd like to attend your class but there's a more interesting one  at the same time."

Other than those comments, it has been a great day...a long one, and tiring, but a lot of fun anyway. And I had the pleasure of signing with my friend Michael Connelly and introducing him as our keynote speaker. He was an engaging, self-effacing, and inspirational speaker, as always.

Tomorrow I have  two more classes/seminars and then I take a late flight back to Los Angeles. 

Taking Your Own Advice

I've taught writing a lot in the last few years -- UCLA Extension courses, Writers University online courses, week-long seminars abroad,  conference workshops, speaking engagements, etc.  One of the many reasons I enjoy doing it is that talking about craft invigorates my own writing and helps me take a fresh look at what I am doing. That point was underscored for me this week.

I have been reading & critiquing manuscripts and screenplays for the South Carolina Writers Conference, which I am attending this weekend.  Many of the manuscripts have serious structural problems, point-of-view issues, and are bogged down in insanely dull (and unnecessary) exposition & backstory. The stories never actually get started.

At the same time, I have been wrestling with the first 40 or so pages of a "standalone" crime novel that I'm writing. I am working with a much sketchier outline than I usually do...I thought it might be exciting for me since this isn't a "whodunit" and I pretty much know where I'm going. Maybe that's a mistake, because the writing hasn't been going well. I find myself continually rewriting my work and not getting anywhere.

I was in the midst critiquing one of the student manuscripts, and writing down my advice, when it hit me -- I was making the same mistakes in my work that he was in his.  I was smothering the drama and conflict in exposition, I wasn't giving the reader a chance to get invested in the characters or the story. I wasn't following that old screenwriting adage -- show, don't tell. I needed to get the story started, then carefully dole out the necessary exposition in bits and pieces in ways that reveal character and generate some conflict.

Yesterday I went back and rewrote my first 40 pages yet again...dramatizing key moments that I'd buried in exposition...and suddenly it all began to work. I felt a rhythm to the writing that was missing before. The story had a pulse, a forward momentum now...and it has carried me through my writing today.

That's not to say I won't have trouble again. I'm sure I will. I have been in this situation before on other books and scripts. But what can be great about teaching, at least for me, is that it can give you the distance and perspective you need on your own work.

So This is Why I Spent Three Hours Yesterday Organizing my iTunes Library...

Author Donna Andrews is on deadline and procrastinating.

I'm only one day behind where I want to be on the book.  I'm chugging along, slowly but steadily.  But my writing avoidance behaviors are in full bloom.

One of the most common writing avoidance behaviors is nesting. Cleaning, organizing, and tidying.  It's not just me; a year or so ago, a writer friend reported a bafflingly  sudden and uncharacteristic urge to clean her desk. . . her office . . . perhaps her whole house.  Several of us asked if, perchance, she was on deadline.  Of course she was.  You may tell yourself that you can write better in a tidy office; you may claim that you're thinking about your book while dusting, mopping, scrubbing, and sorting; you may even be telling the truth.  But never try to fool yourself that these sudden domestic urges aren't writing avoidance.

I know exactly how she feels. Last night I "cleaned up" my iTunes library and playlists and when I looked up again, three hours had passed. I've also been obsessive about trimming our trees. I think it's because I'm nervous about actually starting to write the "standalone" book that I've been noodling with in my mind for months...

I'd start to write it at this very moment but I have to Twitter somebody, make some more connections on LinkedIn, and clean out my office closet first...

Me on Me

Writer/producer/screenwriter David Simkins (DRESDEN FILES, BRISCO COUNTY, ADVENTURES IN BABYSITTING, etc.) and writer/producer/author Marc Scott Zicree (TWILIGHT ZONE COMPANION, MAGIC TIME, SLIDERS etc.) came over to my house and interviewed me for their on-going podcast conversation about tv, movies, and sci-fi.

Lee Goldberg's resumé reads like a TV what’s-what for the last twenty years. He’s staffed shows, ran shows, written, directed and produced them in the U.S. and Europe. And if that’s not enough, he’s also a published novelist. Next up: splitting the atom. Listen in.

Under their intense interrogation ("Hello, Lee, how are you?"), I don't shut up for an hour-and-a-half.

The Mail I Get -- What Happens After You Turn In Your Book?

Charmi congratulated me on turning in MR. MONK AND THE DIRTY COP and asked:

Out of curiousity, how much work will you still have to do on it? At this point in writing Monk novels, do you get many change requests from the editor? Or, can you pretty much consider this "done"?

I'm sure that's a question a lot of you have, so here's what I told her:

I usually don't get any major notes from MONK creator Andy Breckman or my editor, so the next step will be to go through the copy-edited manuscript. That's basically my own manuscript sent back to me, all marked up, after my editor and the copy editor have gone through it, spotting typos, punctuation errors, inconsistencies, awkward phrases etc. They will make suggestions on the page for corrections,  changes and clarifications. They will also suggest trims or places where I might want to go into more detail...but the choice is mine. For the most part, it's very minor stuff and I get through it very quickly. It's also my last chance to do any rewriting that I want to do for creative reasons...which usually only amounts to a line or two, here and there.

A month or two after that, I will receive the typeset galley, also known as the advance proofs, which is basically an unbound version of what the final book will look like. The editor, copyeditor and I read through it for errors (although we inevitably miss two or three big ones, much to my embarrassment) and send it on to production.

At that point, my job on the book is done...if you don't count promotion (like going to book signings, attending conferences, speaking at libraries, etc.)

Become the Next Norman Lear

This November, Emmy Award winning comedy writer Ken Levine is hosting another one of his phenomenal SITCOM ROOM writing classes:

With all the writing classes and books around, I realized there’s one thing none of them teach – what it’s actually like being in a sitcom writing ro>Practically all sitcoms are “room written” these days (even single camera shows like 30 ROCK). That’s when a dysfunctional group of funny, creative people somehow manage, collectively, to craft a brilliantly funny (or at least not embarrassing) script while suffering from incredible time pressure and personality clashes.
[...]I found myself imagining a weekend workshop that gives you the hands-on experience you could only get in a professional writing room [...]A cross between a seminar/workshop and comedy writing fantasy camp.

If you want to be a TV comedy writer, you've got to take this class. There are still a few spaces left, so sign up fast.

How to Throw the Pitch

I'm going in to a major studio next week to pitch a TV series.  In advance of the meeting, the studio wants you to send them a very short log line of the concept, sort of the equivalent of a TV Guide listing. Assuming that they like the log-line, a few days before the meeting they will send you the "Drama Series Pitch" format that they expect you to follow for your verbal presentation. Here it is:

THE TEASER—Pitch out a tease that grabs your audience, that is visual, gives a sense of the world, tone and set up of our show.

THE WORLD—After you have grabbed our listener, tell us what the world is and why you want to do a show about it.

THE CHARACTERS-Outline our characters in order of importance, allowing what makes each one distinct to shine through (quirks, traits, backstory). Also discuss character dynamics, how each character relates to each other and what their point of views are about each other. Tell us about triangles, rivals, love interests, etc.

THE PILOT—Broad stroke the rest of the pilot. Do not go beat by beat or act by act. This should really just be broad strokes and key plot points which help establish character and set up. Also, your pilot needs to serve as an example of what a typical episode would look like (i.e. an example of a closed-ended story and examples of character conflicts).

THE SERIES—discuss what an episode of your show looks like, where you want to go in series, potential storylines and character arcs and entanglements.

THE TONE—You want to make sure you have clearly established the tone of your show and may want to hit it again in the wrap up at the end. It is often helpful to use shows that people are familiar with.

I've been in the TV business for a while, and I have done hundreds of pitches, but this is the first time anyone has ever given me a required format.  I guess that the studio has been hearing a lot of meandering, unfocused, boring pitches lately.

In general, I have no problem with their format, and would certainly have included most of what they want in my pitch anyway, though perhaps not in that order. 

Doing it their way is fine for me and has actually helped us focus our pitch and tighten it up. But I think there are some cases where rigid adherence to their format could kill a pitch. Not all series ideas are best told with a teaser and the pilot story...nor do all ideas lend themselves to comparisons to previous series ("It's HANNAH MONTANA meets THE SHIELD with a touch of BATTLESTAR GALACTICA").

Also some writers just have a natural, entertaining way of  pitching that suits their personality and thinking that might not follow a template...but still gets the key points across that the studio is looking or. Asking those writers to adjust to a particular template might throw them off and undermine what otherwise would have been a great pitch.

Our Worst Script

I published the post below on this blog in July 2006...and forgot all about what I said I'd do at the end. Now I am following through...

Ken Levine writes today about the worst script he and his partner ever wrote.

In 1993 my writing partner, David Isaacs and I did a short run series for CBS called BIG WAVE DAVE’S starring Adam Arkin and David Morse. It ran that summer, got 19 shares, kept 100% of MURPHY BROWN’S audience and was cancelled. At the time CBS had starring vehicles in the wings for Peter Scolari, Bronson Pinchot, and the always hilarious Faye Dunaway so they didn’t need us.

We were given a production order of six with three back-up scripts. We assigned the first two back-ups to our staff and planned on writing the third ourselves. When the show was cancelled we put in to CBS to get paid for the additional scripts. They said fine, but we had to turn in the completed scripts. Gulp!

Bill Rabkin and I had almost the exact same experience on SEAQUEST. We'd already turned in the outline for  episode 14 when we got canceled. But in order to get paid for the teleplay, we had to write it. We did it in one day, while we were packing up our office. I still live in fear that some sf fan will stumble on a bootleg draft at a scifi convention, post it on the net, and people will think we actually write that bad. I'm in Germany now, or I'd post an excerpt. I'll try to remember to do it when I return.

UPDATE March 8, 2007:  Okay, here's an excerpt from "About Face,"  the script Bill and I wrote in a day to get our script fee. We knew no one would ever read it. All you need to know to follow along is that Piccolo a man with gills and Darwin is a talking dolphin (I'm not kidding).

How To Write a Treatment

This was originally posted back in June 2005...but since I get asked this question a lot, and I am on a plane to Germany right now, I thought I'd share it with you again.

Bryon Stedman  asked me this question in a comment to another post:

I have a situation where a broadcast entity claims they want to hear my idea for a boxing series or made for TV movie. The characters belong to my family from a comic drawn by my father.

If a narrative is they way to go, what are the key points to include? Do I go as far as dialog and cameas shots and locations or simply text with main characters CAPITALIZED? Advice requested and appreciated.

A series treatment and a TV movie treatment are very different. A series treatment sells the characters and the franchise of the show...the relationships and format that will generate stories week after week. A TV movie treatment sells a story.

If the studio is already familiar with your Dad's comic, I don't know why they need you to come up with a series treatment...the strip itself sells that or they wouldn't be interested in the first place.

A series treatment isn't about telling a story...it's about describing the characters, how they interact within the unique format of your show. Who are they? What do they do? And how will who they are and what they do generate 100 interesting stories?

For a TV movie treatment, you're selling the characters and their story.  At this point, you're trying to sell the broadstrokes...they can pay you to work out the rest. Write up a punchy over-view of what happens in the story, as if you were writing a review of a great movie (only minus the praise). You want to convey the style and tone of the movie. But don't go into great detail. Keep it short, tight and punchy.And whatever you do, DON'T include camera shots or dialogue.

Don't fixate on treatment format, because there isn't one. Tell your story in the style that works best for you. Don't worry about whether the character names are in capitals or not (it doesn't matter). Concentrate on telling a strong story.

Bryon Stedman  asked me this question in a comment to another post:

I have a situation where a broadcast entity claims they want to hear my idea for a boxing series or made for TV movie. The characters belong to my family from a comic drawn by my father.

If a narrative is they way to go, what are the key points to include? Do I go as far as dialog and cameas shots and locations or simply text with main characters CAPITALIZED? Advice requested and appreciated.

A series treatment and a TV movie treatment are very different. A series treatment sells the characters and the franchise of the show...the relationships and format that will generate stories week after week. A TV movie treatment sells a story.

If the studio is already familiar with your Dad's comic, I don't know why they need you to come up with a series treatment...the strip itself sells that or they wouldn't be interested in the first place.

A series treatment isn't about telling a story...it's about describing the characters, how they interact within the unique format of your show. Who are they? What do they do? And how will who they are and what they do generate 100 interesting stories?

For a TV movie treatment, you're selling the characters and their story.  At this point, you're trying to sell the broadstrokes...they can pay you to work out the rest. Write up a punchy over-view of what happens in the story, as if you were writing a review of a great movie (only minus the praise). You want to convey the style and tone of the movie. But don't go into great detail. Keep it short, tight and punchy.And whatever you do, DON'T include camera shots or dialogue.

Don't fixate on treatment format, because there isn't one. Tell your story in the style that works best for you. Don't worry about whether the character names are in capitals or not (it doesn't matter). Concentrate on telling a strong story.

Breaking In

I've been looking at my stats and I've noticed that there are some posts that people are repeatedly searching out. I'll start reposting some of them for those of you who only started following this blog in the last year or so. This one is from November 2005 and is also available as an article on the Writers University website...

How do I become a television writer if I don’t have any contacts?

I get asked this question a lot…but it’s disingenuous, since I’m a TV writer/producer and whoever is asking me that is really asking me to either read their script or to invite them in to pitch. So, theoretically, they already know somebody in the business.

They’re luckier than I was when I got started. I didn’t know anybody in the TV industry. But I got in. How did I do it? Everybody’s story is unique. Most of those stories, however, share one common element. You have to put yourself in the right place to get your lucky break. And it’s easier than you think.

The first thing you have to do is learn your craft. Take classes, preferably taught by people who have had some success as TV writers. There’s no point taking a class from someone who isn’t an experienced TV writer themselves.

You’d think that would be common sense, but you’d be astonished how many TV courses are taught by people who don’t know the first thing about writing for television or who, through a fluke, sold a story to Manimal twenty years ago and think that qualifies them to take your hundred bucks. Even more surprising is how many desperate people shell out money to take courses from instructors who should be taking TV writing courses themselves.

There’s another reason to take a TV writing course besides learning the basics of the craft. If you’re the least bit likeable, you’ll make a few friends among the other classmates. This is good, because you’ll have other people you can show your work to. This is also good because somebody in the class may sell his or her first script before you do… and suddenly you’ll have a friend in the business.

Many of my writer/producer friends today are writers I knew back when I was in college, when we were all dreaming of breaking into TV some day.

A writer we hired on staff on the first season of Missing was in a Santa Monica screenwriters group… and was the first member of her class to get a paying writing gig. Now her friends in the class suddenly had a friend on a network TV show who could share her knowledge, give them practical advice and even recommend them to her new agent and the writer/producers she was working with.

Another route is to try and get a job as a writer/producer’s assistant on an hour-long drama. Now only will you get a meager salary, but you will see how a show works from the inside. You’ll read lots of scripts and revisions and, simply by observation, get a graduate course in TV writing. More important, you’ll establish relationships with the writers on the show and the freelancers who come through the door. Many of today’s top TV producers were writer/producer assistants once. All of the assistants I’ve had have gone on to become working TV writers themselves… and not because I gave them a script assignment or recommended them for one. I didn’t do either.

The first step towards getting into pitch a TV producer for an episodic writing assignment is to write an episodic teleplay on spec.

By that I mean, a pick a show and write an episode for it.

Although there are some producers who prefer to read screenplays, most showrunners, agents, and network executives want to read an episodic teleplay. Even if your spec feature script has acceptable levels of dialogue, characterization, and structure, people thinking of hiring you will still wonder “yes, but can he handle my characters? Does he understand the four act structure?” An original piece can demonstrate that you have a strong voice, but it doesn’t show whether or not you blend that voice with ours. Can you write what we need without losing whatever it is that makes you unique? That’s why we need to see your talents applied to a TV episode. To someone else’s characters. To someone else’s voice.

How do you pick a show to spec? Easy. Pick a show you like. Odds are, if you’re thinking about trying to become a TV writer, you already know what show you want to spec -- you just don’t know you know. It’s the one you watch every week, and when it’s over, you find yourself thinking: That was pretty good, but wouldn’t it be cool if --"
 
Don’t worry about what’s hot and what’s not – choose a show you feel a connection to, one that you “get.” With some exceptions:

The first thing you have to do is learn your craft. Take classes, preferably taught by people who have had some success as TV writers. There’s no point taking a class from someone who isn’t an experienced TV writer themselves.

You’d think that would be common sense, but you’d be astonished how many TV courses are taught by people who don’t know the first thing about writing for television or who, through a fluke, sold a story to Manimal twenty years ago and think that qualifies them to take your hundred bucks. Even more surprising is how many desperate people shell out money to take courses from instructors who should be taking TV writing courses themselves.

There’s another reason to take a TV writing course besides learning the basics of the craft. If you’re the least bit likeable, you’ll make a few friends among the other classmates. This is good, because you’ll have other people you can show your work to. This is also good because somebody in the class may sell his or her first script before you do… and suddenly you’ll have a friend in the business.

Many of my writer/producer friends today are writers I knew back when I was in college, when we were all dreaming of breaking into TV some day.

A writer we hired on staff on the first season of Missing was in a Santa Monica screenwriters group… and was the first member of her class to get a paying writing gig. Now her friends in the class suddenly had a friend on a network TV show who could share her knowledge, give them practical advice and even recommend them to her new agent and the writer/producers she was working with.

Another route is to try and get a job as a writer/producer’s assistant on an hour-long drama. Now only will you get a meager salary, but you will see how a show works from the inside. You’ll read lots of scripts and revisions and, simply by observation, get a graduate course in TV writing. More important, you’ll establish relationships with the writers on the show and the freelancers who come through the door. Many of today’s top TV producers were writer/producer assistants once. All of the assistants I’ve had have gone on to become working TV writers themselves… and not because I gave them a script assignment or recommended them for one. I didn’t do either.

The first step towards getting into pitch a TV producer for an episodic writing assignment is to write an episodic teleplay on spec.

By that I mean, a pick a show and write an episode for it.

Although there are some producers who prefer to read screenplays, most showrunners, agents, and network executives want to read an episodic teleplay. Even if your spec feature script has acceptable levels of dialogue, characterization, and structure, people thinking of hiring you will still wonder “yes, but can he handle my characters? Does he understand the four act structure?” An original piece can demonstrate that you have a strong voice, but it doesn’t show whether or not you blend that voice with ours. Can you write what we need without losing whatever it is that makes you unique? That’s why we need to see your talents applied to a TV episode. To someone else’s characters. To someone else’s voice.

How do you pick a show to spec? Easy. Pick a show you like. Odds are, if you’re thinking about trying to become a TV writer, you already know what show you want to spec -- you just don’t know you know. It’s the one you watch every week, and when it’s over, you find yourself thinking: That was pretty good, but wouldn’t it be cool if --"
 
Don’t worry about what’s hot and what’s not – choose a show you feel a connection to, one that you “get.” With some exceptions:

An Argument for Outlining

I am a firm believer in the importance of having an outline before you sit down to write. It doesn't have to be detailed outline-- it might only be a page or two.  You just need to know where you're going and, to some degree, how you are going to get there...or what happened to author Sandra Scoppettone could happen to you:

In the course of writing today (yes, I did) I inadvertently discovered that I have two different men involved with the same two women who are trying to get the money everyone is after.  It has to be one man or the other.  Pages and pages must be rewritten.  Whole chapters.  Nightmare.

Did this happen because I took off so much time?  Or am I losing it?  I understand forgetting the color of a character’s eyes, but this is crazy.  And with one man I’m not sure I even did the set-up with the women.  I think these three just happen. The reason I don’t know this is because I couldn’t go on with this today.

Tomorrow I’m going to have to trace backwards and find out.  And then I’ll have to write new scenes, rewrite others completely.

"How Did This Happen?" is the headline of Sandra's post. No offense to Sandra, but I can answer that question in two words: No outline.

That doesn't mean that if you have an outline that the writing of your book is going to go smoothly. You could still find yourself having to go back and rewrite everything...but not because you've inadvertently duplicated a character. Outlines give you a path and a direction for your story, although that doesn't mean you have follow it.

But at least the path is there.

I think of my outlines as "living outlines," since I'm constantly revising them as I write my books.  Why? Because I am always deviating from my outlines and going in new directions, so I have to replot my story to take into account these new events and discoveries.  I usually end up finishing the outline about a week or two before I finish my books.

I've read so many books that were clearly made up as the author went along...and I find them a lot less satisfying that a tightly plotted, tightly-written, confident narrative.

Writing Blind

Novelist John Connolly has an interesting post on researching his novels. But what intrigued me was this little nugget about how he writes:

I brought with me to the US the initial draft of The Unquiet. I imagine it would be almost unintelligible to anyone who tried to read it as a coherent narrative. My first draft tends to be a little rough. There will be inconsistencies of dialogue and character. Some characters will appear in the early stages only to disappear later, their failure to manifest themselves once again left entirely unexplained. Some things seem like good ideas at the start, but quickly prove to be distractions from the main thrust of the book, and as soon as that realisation hits me I tend to let those elements slide.

I don't fret too much about how untidy the text may be (although, in my darker moments, I wonder what might happen if I didn't live to finish the book and someone else, for whatever reason, decided to piece together whatever was left behind. I wish them luck. I mean, I've written it, and sometimes even I'm not entirely sure that I always look forward to trying to put all of the pieces together). After all, there's nobody looking over my shoulder, and my main aim is to get the plot and characters from A-Z, even if that means bypassing Q and R entirely, and occasionally having to loop back to P just to reassure myself that I have a vague notion of what I'm doing.

I'm guessing that John doesn't write with an outline. I know a number of authors who write the same way he seems to...just going where ever the inspiration takes him.  I'm not going to knock it because clearly it's worked great for him.  But I don't think I could ever write that way. That doesn't mean that I stick religiously to my outline, or that characters don't come and go (I've had characters who were meant to die in Chapter One that I kept alive through the whole book), but I need it to keep me more or less pointed in the right direction. I would find writing a book, particularly a mystery, very difficult to do on-the-fly.

Making a Living

I had lunch with a TV writer-friend not long ago, and he was lamenting how the business was letting him down lately. He hadn't worked much in TV during the last year and was despairing about his future. He told me that he wished he wrote books, too. So write one, I said. But I could see from the expression on his face that he wouldn't. He liked the idea of writing a book...actually doing it was something else. He was a TV writer, and that was it.

I decided long ago that I was going to be a writer first and a TV writer second. There's no question that I make most of my living in television...but I believe it's important to me professionally, financially, psychologically and creatively not to concentrate on just one field of writing (It probablyhelps that I started my career as a freelance journalist, then became a novelist, then a non-fiction author, and finally, a TV writer/producer).  So I write books, both fiction and non-fiction, I teach TV writing, and occasionally I write articles and short stories... most of the time while I'm simultaneously writing & producing TV shows (though the TV work always takes priority over everything else). 

While the income from books, teaching, and articles doesn't come close to matching what I  make in TV, those gigs keep some cash coming in when TV (inevitably) lets me down, keep me "alive" in other fields,  and, more importantly, keep my spirits up.

As a result, who I am as a writer isn't entirely wrapped up in whether or not I have a TV job or a book on the shelves. I often have both, or one or the other -- but if I have neither, I have a class to teach or an article to write.

I'm not producing a series right now. But last week, I partnered with a major production company and pitched a movie with them to a cable network. I met with representatives of a European TV network that's interested in having me teach TV writing to their writer/producers and consult on their series. I rewrote a  TV movie treatment to incorporate studio notes.  I turned in a freelance script to the producers of a new drama series. I taught an online screenwriting class. I submitted a short story to Amazon shorts. I wrote 60 pages of my next novel. Next week, I have a meeting with a studio exec who has shows to staff up, a notes meeting on the freelance script, galleys to proof on one of my novels, more pages of my book to write, and probably a whole lot more that I don't even know about yet. 

The bottom line is, I am always writing something for pay, even if that check is miniscule and hustling for my next gig, whether it's in TV, publishing, or something else.  Why? Because that is who I am... a professional writer. And I have a mortgage to pay, just like everybody else.

My Book is Crap

It's nice to know that every writer, even the ones with lots of success, are still tortured by the same insecurities as the rest of us. Acclaimed mystery novelist John Connolly writes:

I can’t speak for other writers, but there is a wall that I hit during the writing of every book. The point at which it occurs varies from book to book, although it’s usually around the halfway stage or just beyond it. I start to doubt the plot, the characters, the ideas underpinning it, my own writing, in fact every element involved in the process.

[...] You’d think that, by now, with eight books written, those doubts would have become less intense. After all, I’ve been through it before. I know that I’ve had these concerns about other books and in the end those books have been written and published without bearing any obvious scars from the turmoil that went into their creation. But there is always that fear that this book, this story, is the one that should not have been started. The idea isn’t strong enough. The plot is going nowhere. I’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way and now have to try to find the right path again.

This happens to me, too...but less often if I have a strong outline to start with (though an outline  is no insurance policy against realizing 35,00o words into your book that it's crap and you're a complete fraud). In talking with other writers, I've noticed that the ones who hit the wall the most are the ones who make up their plot as they go along, preferring to be "surprised" by their characters and the turns in the story. Of course, this means the turns may lead to a creative dead end.  I don't know if John outlines or not, but my guess is that he doesn't.

UPDATE:  Author PJ Parrish is nearing the end of a new book and is experiencing night terrors:

The new book is almost done. First draft, that is. I haven't read it through since we started the thing months ago. I am afraid to. I have this really bad feeling that it is a heaping, stinking, fetid, rancid pile of crap. I dream about it now, this pile of crap, almost every night, like Richard Dreyfus in "Close Encounters." I wake up in a sweat over it. My only consolation is knowing that I feel this way with every book. And that I am not alone.

When It All Comes Together

I came up with my story for Bob Randisi's new anthology at the oddest time and the oddest place. I was getting a haircut, tuning out the incessant yammering of the lady cutting my hair, when all the pieces that had been swirling around in my head finally clicked together -- my experience in traffic school the other day, a newspaper article I clipped six months ago, a scene from a story I never wrote, a bit I saw on Court TV some time back, and my curiosity about the life of  a guy I see on public access TV. Suddenly, in about two minutes, I had my story. Today I am off with a notepad and a digital camera to do some "location sc0uting" for the story, I'll do some googling for some facts I need,  and then I'll start writing it. I want to get it done before I start writing the third MONK book next week.

UPDATE: I got back around noon, copied my photos to my hard-drive, then spent an hour or so on Google, looking up facts on different subjects. I also emailed an "expert" in a particular field for some additional background info. I've just finished up a one-page, bullet-point outline for myself -- not that I'll necessarily stick to it, but so I have a road-map in case I have to set the story aside for some reason over the next few days to work on something else.

Now it's time to procrastinate -- which is why I'm updating this post -- and then start writing.