Writing the TV Drama Series 3rd Edition: How to Succeed as a Professional Writer in TV (3 page)

At the beginning of a term I used to ask if any students didn’t have a television so I could pair them with someone who did. But when I asked in 2009, the whole class raised their hands. I started getting on their cases: How can you speculate episodes for shows you’ve never seen? Was it laziness? Arrogance?
No!
, they responded. They were watching — just not on a television set. Everyone was viewing on a computer, or even a cell phone. They knew even more shows than in previous years; they were ready.

In class, we operate like the writing staff of a TV series in which writers suggest improvements on each other’s work, while I function as “show-runner,” or final authority on revisions. The standard is professional quality, and our models are the most brilliant, incisive, daring scripts on networks or cable. Since I hold the bar so high, no one brings in trivial subjects. Because television drama frequently reflects complex and wrenching problems in contemporary society — such as racism, sexism, violence, spirituality, and sexual identity — the writers must confront these issues with honesty at the same time as they learn their craft.

On other occasions, I come to class in the midst of my writing, full of some creative problem, and let the class in on my process. Or I might screen a clip and deconstruct its elements and how it fits within the total structure of a show. All this leads to finished scripts that aim to be competitive with the best drama written for screen.

That’s my goal for you too as you work with this book. My students are sophisticated, smart, dedicated, and some are wonderfully talented. Still, I was initially surprised at what they didn’t know. When I add my summer seminars, which are open to the public, I discovered strange misconceptions about television, the art and craft of TV drama, and the life of a working writer. That’s one of my reasons for creating this book, since I’m uniquely aware of what beginning writers want and need to learn.

My approach is practical: The better you write, the more work you’ll get. Give ’em better than they deserve because you deserve the best, even if your first assignment is on something you leave off your resume years later.

As you go through this book, imagine that you’re in my classroom. I’ll be talking to you, even asking you questions. Though I can’t hear your answers, I suggest you treat the chapters interactively anyway so that you’ll be applying the principles.

Throughout, you’ll find useful tools, a complete map of the TV series terrain, and lessons from those who have traveled it before. But, ultimately, the way to write better is to be true to what’s real in your stories and to write more. You’re not alone — I’ll show you how.

W
HAT’S
N
EW
I
N
T
HIS
E
DITION

If you’re familiar with the Second Edition, you’ll notice how much has been updated. Though the chapters on craft present the same essential principles, small changes occur throughout, replacing older shows with current ones and considering the Internet and new platforms in all subjects.

Among the larger changes, the book has gone from seven chapters to eight. The final chapter that was a brief treatment of new outlets in the Second Edition is now a full chapter dealing with the future of TV drama on the Internet, the impact of new delivery potentials on writers, and an international perspective. Since the book has become global, I thought that expansion would be significant.

Entirely new “Spotlight” sections include one on “Dramedy” and one on “Unscripted/Reality TV.” Also the “Procedurals” section is more comprehensive and now includes
House
and
The Good Wife
as well as
CSI
. The Pilot section has been amplified as well.

Among the fresh interviews, I’m especially proud of landing one with Charlie Collier, the President of AMC Cable TV. I never had a network president in the book before, but the rise of basic cable as a phenomenon made this relevant. Other new interviews include: David Isaacs (
M*A*S*H, Mad Men
), Michelle and Robert King (
The Good Wife
), David Simon (
The Wire
), and others. In the Reality segment I have a candid interview with a Reality producer, and other writer-producers have been quoted throughout.

I re-interviewed Steven Bochco, and edited his earlier interview to blend with this one. I also re-interviewed my former students, creating a unique longitudinal study of what happens to film students in the 14 years after they graduate.

To make room for all these enhancements, I had to edit out some interesting material from the Second Edition. Interviews with the producers of
Lost, Battlestar Galactica
and
Deadwood are
gone, as is the blogging chapter on
Grey’s Anatomy
. Instead, I incorporated portions of those in other chapters. You can access the full deleted interviews in the Archives section of my website
www.PamDouglasBooks.com
.

My motivations for working so hard on this Third Edition are partly in response to how much television is evolving, and partly in response to the respect with which this book has been met, for which I’m grateful. Not only has it been recognized as the premiere book on the subject worldwide, but I’ve discovered that it has two distinct readerships. The main one, of course, is people who hope to become writers, both students and the general public. But we’re gradually accruing a second audience: people reading for insights into contemporary media. For example, Critical Studies scholars and Communications analysts have been referring to this book, and my interviews (including those for the international translations) have asked more about the nature of dramatic television than about how to break in or how to write a scene. That’s a little different from a few years ago. I wanted this new edition to be truly comprehensive in order to keep its mantle as THE book on this subject.

H
OW TO
U
SE THIS
B
OOK

I
F
Y
OU’RE A
W
RITER
…

The entire template is here. All you have to do is follow the chapters, step by step.

I recommend this process: First, read through the entire book for an overview. During this early read don’t worry about taking notes or writing your script. Understand the terrain and the many options.
Chapter One
,
Chapter Eight
, and all the interviews are especially helpful for this kind of survey.

Second: Prepare to write your own scripts. It’s a good idea to generate at least two — one spec episode for an existing show and one original pilot. It’s even better to have more than one of each, but you have to start somewhere. Of course, some of you are more advanced and already have scripts. In that case, use this process for revisions.

If you begin with a spec episode, it’s up to you to study your show on your own. That means watching every episode available and accessing all relevant websites. The systems in this book will work for any hour drama series, but some shows are better choices than others.

Rule One: Choose quality. Even the worst shows hire the best writers they can find, and by best I mean writers who deliver authentic characters and situations. Imitating weak or contrived writing will just make you look untalented. At the beginning of 2011, samples being widely read by agents and producers include
Breaking Bad, Dexter, House, The Good Wife
, and a few others. If you’re reading this in future years, you can figure out what’s worth speculating by following the most-current Writers Guild and Emmy award nominees for writing.

Rule Two: Choose a show in current production. This requires a bit of research because shows may be on the air but in a final season. So an excellent series like
Friday Night Lights
, which concluded production, would not be useful even though it’s still running. The reason is purely practical: writing contests tend to require current samples. But that absolutely does not mean you should avoid learning from great classic shows like
The Sopranos
. In fact, you must! Just don’t spec those shows.

Rule Three: Choose a show where you can bring a fresh insight or experience that fits its world. For example, if you don’t know the culture of New Orleans, don’t even think of writing for
Treme
; no matter how much research you might do, it will come out fake. On the other hand, you don’t have to be a psychopathic killer to write for
Dexter
— although you do need to understand how he thinks.

Once you’ve chosen the show and learned it well, turn to the book. Re-read
Chapter Three
. See the analysis of the classic series? Now go to the show you’ve chosen and see if you can break it down into scenes like this, or into sequences. Define the “A,” “B,” and “C” (and maybe “D”) stories. See if you can make a grid for an episode, even in very rough form. Then make a grid for your own episode.

Next, go on to
Chapter Four
and follow each step — Outline, First Draft, Second Draft, and Polish. While you’re working, check in with the scripts (or DVDs) from the show. Have you caught the voices? The rhythm of the scenes?

If you’re writing a pilot, start by re-reading the “Spotlight On Writing Your Pilot Script,” which is between
Chapter Four
and
Chapter Five
. Then go back to
Chapter Four
and follow all the development steps — Outline, First Draft, Second Draft, and Polish.

While you’re writing, be an artist and set aside your marketing head. After you’re done, you’ll be able to use
Chapter Six
on how to break in. And if you’re fortunate, you’ll be ready for
Chapter Five
about working on a staff. But take your mind off “
Ka-Ching!
” — at least until you have something worth offering. Pandering to a quick buck will sabotage your career. As I told you, even the worst shows try to hire the best writers.

I
F
Y
OU’RE A
T
EHCHER
…

This book follows a syllabus I’ve honed over the years and I’m consistently using, so I know it works. Each student is required to have a copy of this book, and I’ve found it helps to refer students to specific pages to see how to pitch and outline, and to read about scene structure, act structure, and all the aspects of storytelling. That doesn’t eliminate the need to teach those subjects, but seeing examples makes life easier for everyone.

I teach the chapters in the same order they appear in the book, except that the class in writing spec episodes is separate from the class in writing pilots. My students spend a semester in the spec class to learn the essentials of writing for series, and at USC that class is a prerequisite to writing an original pilot. Both classes use this book, but I emphasize different chapters.

I also amplify the text by screening and analyzing episodes. The explications of two
NYPD Blue
segments in
Chapter Three
are examples of deconstructing scenes purely from a writing point of view. For the spec class I begin with a show they might write, and later in the term I screen clips from classic shows that demonstrate specific principles. I’ve found that students may learn better from a classic they’re not attempting so the techniques stand out. For instance, selected scenes from
The Sopranos
and
The Wire
are especially revealing though the students wouldn’t write those shows. For the pilot class I like to screen opening scenes from
Lost
and
The West Wing
because they demonstrate how to focus on character within a large ensemble. But you could choose clips from any drama series you admire. Your personal enthusiasm for the work will count.

One other difference between the book and the classroom is that I don’t use guest speakers in real life. In the book they add dimension and inspiration. But in my classes I give personal, direct feedback on whatever each student is writing, so we function like a workshop or writers room. Assuming that you are a professional writer, you know this process of notes all too well. The class will feel like every show you’ve ever worked on.

I do not use and I disagree with “exercises.” In my opinion, the practice of not-really-writing — doing some sort of literary calisthenics — trivializes the creative process and wastes time. Any principles that can be gleaned from some academic exercise are better absorbed when a student is motivated by building to a product. If the students are going to complete at least one (preferably two) drafts of a teleplay in a few short months, they need every writing moment to work on their scripts.

I hope that if you are teaching people to write, you are a writer yourself. But some of you who may offer workshops on TV series are from the business, marketing or administrative/executive sides instead, and I’d like to help you be successful too. In fact, this book might be even more vital to you because it includes voices and experiences of actual writers and reflects their process, which amplifies the different experience you bring. But I suggest that you vary your curriculum to present more about sales and careers and less involvement in the art of writing. The book can be adapted that way by emphasizing
Chapters One
,
Two
,
Five
,
Six
, and
Eight
, which place television drama in a socio-economic context and explain how the industry works.

In addition to teaching how to write for existing series and how to write a pilot, USC also offers a survey course in the history and analysis of television series, examining shows from the 1950s to the present from a screenwriting viewpoint. It’s taught by one of my colleagues in the Screenwriting Division of the School of Cinematic Arts, and has become a popular part of a liberal arts education.

I mention that to give perspective to your role as a teacher. I believe that we, as teachers, have an obligation to help people become educated in the larger sense. Television has a literature as extensive as theatrical films. No teacher of feature screenplays would ignore all Oscar-winning movies from the past five years (not to mention
Casablanca, Chinatown, The Godfather
, or the Hitchcock legacy) when presenting the art of screenwriting and instead limit all examples and aspirations to whatever movies happen to be selling tickets this month. Yet in television, you may feel pressure to deal with only this season’s fleeting hits. Resist.