HOW TO WRITE A TV SERIES By Christina Hamlett (A ―Buy the Book/Get the Coach‖ edition) All rights reserved. No portion of this book can be reproduced or distributed without the permission of the author. HOW TO WRITE A TV SERIES Author: Christina Hamlett IS YOUR TV IDEA READY FOR PRIME TIME? Whether it's a wacky sitcom, a police drama, a soap opera, or a reality show, every TV program starts out as an idea in someone's head. Turning that rough concept into a series that viewers will want to watch every week, however, requires catching the interest of someone in the position of casting, directing and producing it. No simple task indeed, especially when you also have to factor in its ability to attract advertisers and sustain the interest and curiosity of the target demographic. How do you know whether your idea lends itself to the limitations of the small screen? For one thing, it has to be a unique story that will resonate with an audience. Secondly, it has to be a story that you have the rights to negotiate; in other words, your own original material and not someone else‘s. Third – and perhaps the most important element in the equation – is that you have to be truly passionate about what you‘re trying to pitch for development instead of just thinking about how much money you could make that will allow you to quit your day-job. Too often in my business as a script consultant, for instance, I see aspiring writers who ignore their own distinctive voice and vision because they‘re too busy trying to imitate current TV shows that are popular. On the one hand, it‘s easy to understand this line of thinking when every season seems to debut ―new‖ programs that already feel familiar to us – the flakey New York roommates, the shrewish wife and clueless husband, the conspiracy theorists and alien chasers, the love/hate combustibility of coworkers. On the other hand, why would viewers be lured to follow a copycat as long as the genuine article is either still in the picture or still very dear to their hearts? Another common problem is the lack of an action plan that is both dynamic and plausible to take one‘s characters beyond the first few episodes. Unlike a feature-length movie where the conflict is resolved after two hours, a television series needs to keep swimming forward like a shark and finding new food from year to year in order to survive. For example, a sitcom family that keeps splashing around in the same dull pond without any real quest, conflict or threat to the status quo is not as compelling a premise as a drama in which a man wrongly accused of murder seeks to evade capture and find the actual killer. While it can certainly be argued that the right choice of actors can make virtually any suburban scenario sparkle or sustain a longstanding ―will they/won‘t they‖ sexual tension, your job as a writer is to hook that cast from the get-go with the kind of roles and situations that could potentially position them for an Emmy. That‘s what this workbook is all about – learning the craft and having great fun at the same time! BUY THE BOOK/GET THE COACH The content you‘re about to dive into was originally developed for the online courses I offer to writers of all ages. Unlike a traditional classroom or Internet chat room where you have to be tuned in every week at the same place and time and in the company of other students, my own approach has always been a learning platform where you‘re truly in a class by yourself! All of the lecture materials you need to understand the principles of genres, concepts, character development, dialogue, settings, formatting, log lines and synopses are contained in this package. When I decided to make the materials available in a book format, it was because I discovered that not every student who registered for class had the time (or necessarily the discipline) to finish the writing assignments in each module. Even with the freedom to complete work at their own pace, life‘s ongoing intrusions – work, illness, vacation, stress – don‘t always make it possible to carve out enough time to do homework. On the flip side, removing the opportunity for readers to ask lots of questions, get feedback on their progress, and even have ―do-overs‖ would defeat my goal of helping aspiring authors hone their craft. How many times, for instance, have you read a how-to text and wished you could have asked the writer for additional advice or for clarification of steps and concepts that were confusing? Accordingly, this book represents the best of both worlds. You can read the entire thing from start to finish without doing a single assignment. On the other hand, if you like the idea of a one-on-one coach to walk you through the process and critique your work, that service is available for a registration fee of $50. In addition to customized evaluations, your participation as an active student means I‘ll be providing you with supplemental materials if (1) there‘s an area of this craft that you could use some extra help with or (2) there‘s something you really want to know about that isn‘t covered in the basic course. If you decide to proceed as a student instead of just a reader, please drop me an email via my website at http://www.authorhamlett.com with the subject line: BUY THE BOOK/GET THE COACH and I‘ll provide you with payment registration details. Some of the essay assignments can be completed in the form of email text. Projects involving dialogue, scenes and formatting, however, should be submitted as attachments. These can be in Word, Rich Text, Adobe Acrobat or Final Draft. There‘s also no shortage of recommended books and websites throughout these pages to enhance your knowledge of script development and pitching opportunities. The culmination of the class is the submission of an original 30-minute pilot episode. Your script can be in any genre, take place in any setting, and be peopled by as few or as many characters as you feel are necessary to deliver the story. My only cautionary note about this is that the subject you choose for your show should be something with which you‘re thoroughly familiar. If you‘ve never worked in an ER, investigated crime scenes, flipped burgers, raced cars or defended clients in a courtroom, there‘s a high likelihood that audiences are going to know when you‘re just making stuff up. That‘s not to say, of course, that you can‘t define your own parameters of a fantasy, SciFi or alternative universe; for backdrops such as these, you need only be consistent in adhering to whatever rules govern it and whatever powers are ascribed to the denizens that inhabit it. If you‘re simply staying on as a reader, you can skip over this next part and proceed directly to LESSON ONE. BEFORE WE JUMP IN… …I‘d like to know a little bit about you and why you‘re taking the class. Specifically: 1. 2. 3. 4. What‘s your writing background? Have you ever done any acting? What attracted you to take this class? Do you already have an idea for a TV show? In 25 words or less, what‘s it about? 5. What is/was your favorite TV program and why were you a loyal viewer? 6. What‘s the last show you watched on television? Did you like it or hate it and why? 7. If you could be adopted for a week by any fictional TV family or work for any ―employer‖ (fictional or nonfictional) on a TV program, who would it be and why? 8. What would you most like to learn from this class? Please send me your replies at authorhamlett@cs.com. As soon as you do, you can then turn to the first lesson and get started. LESSON ONE: Concepts, Genres & What You Can Learn From Commercials PLUGGING INTO CREATIVITY Once the word gets out that you‘re a writer, don‘t be surprised how many people will either (1) tell you some idea of theirs that they think would make a good story or (2) ask you how and where you find your own ideas to write about. In the first scenario, you really can‘t fault their enthusiasm and sincerity for just trying to be helpful. Unfortunately, a lot of them don‘t have a smart grasp on the distinctions that separate concepts for film and TV from novels, stage plays and short stories; they simply assume that every plot is a one-size-fits-all. In the second scenario, I often give the reply that real life is full of free material and that it‘s all a matter of keeping my eyes and ears open. This answer, however, usually causes them to say, ―But seriously, where do you get your ideas?‖ Non-writers, I think, assume that ideas are magically beamed into the heads of authors every night via satellite transmissions from Saturn or perhaps emailed on a monthly basis from the Schenectady Inspiration Service. The reality is that every time you listen to music, pick up a newspaper, go for a walk, look at old photographs, stand in a grocery store line, ride public transportation, listen to a sermon, talk to your grandparents, eat in a restaurant, watch the news, read the classics or revisit some of the fairy tales, myths and fables you grew up with, there are squillions of ideas and characters there that are all saying ―Pick me! Pick me!‖ They‘re also frequently ―hiding‖ in plain sight but have a tendency to get overlooked because we‘re either thinking much too hard or telling ourselves that if it‘s such a stellar idea someone else has already used it. Yes, they probably have. Those predecessors aren‘t you, though. They don‘t have your unique voice, your unique frame of reference and your unique outlook on how the world should be. Imagine, for instance, if Leonard Bernstein had said, ―Well, I guess there‘s no point in doing West Side Story because that Shakespeare guy already did Romeo and Juliet.‖ And how many sitcoms might never have been penned if writers embraced the attitude that The Odd Couple had closed the door on any new shows about roommates? A ―STORY‖ ISN‘T THE SAME AS A ―PLOT‖ The words ―story‖ and ―plot‖ are often used interchangeably. So much so, in fact, that new writers often think they share the same definition. Where this belief can lead them astray is in planning the direction they want their projects and imaginations to go. Let‘s say that your friends ask you what your new TV show is going to be about. Your answer may be something along the order of ―It‘s about a homecoming queen who loses her crown‖ or ―It‘s about a parrot that likes to herd sheep‖ or ―It‘s about a college dropout who goes to live with his grandfather.‖ The operative words in each case are ―It‘s about‖ — a one-liner summary of the type of tale it‘s going to be without giving away any of the specifics on where the characters came from or where they‘re going next. When you can explain the gist of your show in one sentence like the examples above, you‘re talking about the story. Assuming your listeners are intrigued with your reply, the next thing they‘ll probably ask is, ―So how did she lose her crown?‖, ―Wow! Where did the parrot learn to do that?‖ or ―Do the two of them get along?‖ Any question that queries how a situation happened to come about or how it is going to unfold in the future is answered in terms of the plot. Although these two words have independent meanings, they are nonetheless dependent on each other‘s presence when it comes to writing a good TV script. A story needs a plot to help it stay on course, open up speed and reach the finish line. A plot, however, needs the vehicle of an interesting story to give it a starting point to enter the track in the first place. ASSIGNMENT #1 If there really were such an entity as the Schenectady Inspiration Service, it would probably be masquerading as a website called Hatch‘s Plot Bank (http://www.angelfire.com/nc/tcrpress/plotbank.html) . This ingenious resource currently has over 2,000 one-liner plot entries that can be adapted to stage, page, or screen. For the purposes of this exercise, I‘ve pulled out 10 of them for you to choose from: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. starts assuming the role of a dead sibling ancient oak on family homestead is dying dad's new business partner shows some unexpected demands adopts a child without telling anyone local homeless man will spy for little money library research reveals a secret about the town 7. local cable show turns into a big hit 8. thinks they have talent for designing lingerie 9. family members take up competing stores 10. mice take over the neighborhood Your assignment is to choose one premise from this list that you think would make a good TV series and explain why the premise is sustainable. Determine what kind of character should play the lead. In addition, you‘ll need to identify (1) the core conflict, (2) how the conflict personally affects him/her, (3) what he/she intends to do to resolve it, and (4) what will the consequences be if he/she fails? This should be in an essay format not to exceed 750 words. GENRES ARE TO TV WHAT MENUS ARE TO RESTAURANTS What‘s your favorite kind of food? If your answer is Chinese, you probably wouldn‘t go to a Tex-Mex restaurant and find chow mein and eggs rolls prominently displayed on its menu. Nor would you expect to find New York–style hot dogs if you went into an establishment whose specialty was advertised as English tea and scones. A correlation can be made to the ingredients found in different kinds of TV programs. While there are plenty of shows that have ―a little of this‖ and ―a smidge of that,‖ most of them concentrate on a specific cuisine that they know they can prepare well. In the storytelling biz, this is called ―genre‖ and clues in hungry viewers on what kind of fare to expect. Genre is what makes it easy for you to find your favorite type of movie rental or novel at a store. If the selections were all mixed together like goulash, it could take you forever to find the latest martial arts film or Sophie Kinsella chick-lit. Instead, these works are categorized according to their primary content. Within these divisions, you‘ll also find subgenres, especially in romance (i.e., Gothic, Regency, romantic suspense) and mystery (i.e., amateur sleuths, police procedurals, historical). The two broadest categories are fiction and nonfiction. While ―real life‖ nonfiction can often inspire a fictional story or ―what if?‖ tableau, ―reel life‖ fiction takes characters that aren‘t real people and puts them in situations that have relatable elements for the rest of us – suburbia, the office, a neighborhood bar. Even when the main characters aren‘t ordinary, workaday folks – vampires, witches, Dr. Who – they regularly encounter problems predicated on reward, revenge or escape (the three cornerstones of conflict). Common genres are: Action Comedy Documentary Historical Occult/Supernatural Science Fiction Time Travel Young Adult Adventure Coming of Age Drama Horror Romance Suspense War Biography Crime Fantasy Mystery Romantic Comedy Thriller Western There are also a number of television programs that are reality-based platforms. These include game shows, talk shows, competitions (such as Dancing With The Stars, Cupcake Wars, American Idol, Survivor), investigative (such as History Detectives, Myth Busters, Ghost Hunters) and how-to series that focus on topics such as cooking, dog training, crafts and home remodeling. ASSIGNMENT #2 For whatever TV show premise you chose in Assignment #1, decide what the most effective and imaginative genre would be to successfully hook a following from the very first episode. Justify your choice in an essay not to exceed 100 words. The type of TV show you want to write is often a reflection of the programs you most enjoy watching. ASSIGNMENT #3 Identify six TV shows that are all in your favorite genre. Two of them should be shows that are currently on the air. The next two should be shows you really liked that were cancelled after their first season. The final two should be shows produced prior to 1990. Consider each of these shows‘ respective strengths and weaknesses. Your homework – in the form of a short essay – is to describe your own concept for an original series, its target demographic (i.e., families, teens, women), and how it compares and contrasts with the six existing shows you chose for study. Note: If your memory about TV shows needs some refreshing, check out: http://www.epguides.com/menu/year.shtml DON‘T TOUCH THAT DIAL! Could you tell a whole story from start to finish if you only had 60 seconds? How about 30 seconds? Impossible as that seems, TV ads accomplish this 24/7. Their goal is to sell a product or service to viewers in as little time as possible. Since money is a big factor, too, they need to meet their goal with a small cast and a small number of locations. And although they‘re short, commercials adhere to the same three-act structure as any other form of storytelling – a beginning that introduces the problem, a middle that raises the stakes, and an ending that resolves the problem. As an example, here‘s one of Budweiser‘s most popular commercials: The setting is an Old West street on the back lot of a Hollywood studio. The director and camera crew are frustrated with their canine star because he’s not reacting with proper pathos to the fact his human pal has just been gunned down. The trainer, desperate to appeal to the dog’s sense of method acting, pleads with him to recall his most painful moment. The scene dissolves to the dog’s blissful memory of trying to catch a passing Budweiser truck by leaping the fence - and crashing his nose right into it. Back on the set, he is now howling with such convincing agony that the entire crew is weeping. What may look like an amusing sketch concocted to sell beer only works – even from an advertising standpoint - because it has all the elements necessary to communicate a complete story: The Cast: The dog and the Hollywood crew. The Locations: The Western set and the dog’s front yard. The Problem (BEGINNING): The dog will lose his job if the film scene can’t be completed. The Attempt to Resolve (MIDDLE): Flashback/memory sequence. The Resolution (END): By recalling his most painful moment, the dog summons the necessary emotion to make the scene a howling success. The actual placement of commercials is also critical since they need to tap into the mindset and buying power of the audience. You wouldn‘t, for instance, try to sell baby products in the middle of a football game or try to hawk real estate during Saturday morning cartoons. This would be like entering your comedy short in a contest or film festival that‘s only looking for dramas. Why? Because the best message in the world will be totally lost if it doesn‘t play to the right crowd. Advertisers also often use characters that are already familiar to viewers and place them in unexpected – and often humorous – scenarios. AT&T®, for example, portrays Hansel and Gretel as tiny tourists in the Big Apple who are blissfully unaware that pigeons are gobbling up the trail of breadcrumbs they‘ve been dropping along the way. No worries. Gretel remembered to bring the GPS to get them safely home. In an ad for Snickers®, Henry VIII and Bacchus are on a road trip in a tiny car with friends and singing a chorus of Greensleeves. For a series of insurance ads, Geico® served up the incongruity of two articulate cavemen watching TV in their bachelor apartment, dining in fine restaurants, bowling, and participating in psychotherapy sessions. ASSIGNMENT #4 Watch one of the following: (1) a sitcom, (2) a sports event, (3) a dramatic series, (4) a reality show, or (5) a cartoon. Make a list of what kind of commercials appear in the program you chose. In a short list, identify the following in each commercial: The age, gender, and number of characters The problem presented The solution to the problem The number of locations The length of the commercial Why this product/service would appeal to people watching Last but not least, identify the types of advertisers who would be the most receptive to your own original series and why. JUST FOR FUN Want to learn more from commercials? Bookmark these websites: http://tvadsview.com/ http://guyism.com/celebrities/embarrassing-before-they-were-famous-commercials.html http://www.bestadsontv.com/ http://www.clioawards.com/winners And I personally think that the commercials with the biggest heart just happen to feature the biggest horses: http://blogs.westword.com/cafesociety/2011/08/post_31.php. (My favorite of this bunch is A Dalmatian channels Mickey Goldmill.) LESSON TWO: CHARACTERS, SETTINGS & WHAT CHEKHOV KNEW ABOUT SITCOMS When was the last time you watched a TV show that you just couldn‘t get excited about? Chances are that it‘s because there wasn‘t a single person in the cast you could personally relate to. Maybe its entire plot was peopled with squeaky second graders. Maybe it was a panel discussion comprised of foreign speakers who were all over the age of seventy. It might even have been a sitcom with middle-aged mavens who not only bore no resemblance to anyone you‘ve ever met but who had relationship problems which, frankly, weren‘t all that compelling. Contrast this to the shows that have struck an instant chord. Is it because the characters love and hate the same things that you do? Are they engaged in adventures or holding down jobs you think you might like yourself? Have they had things happen to them that are similar to your own experiences? Are they people you‘d like to have lunch with or maybe go out on a date? These are the kind of questions that go into the development of ―relatable‖ characters in a television series. In order to forge an emotional connection with a fictitious character, an audience needs to recognize areas of common ground. A series about teen angst in the classroom, at home or onstage, for instance, needs teen characters in the lead roles that teen viewers can relate to, learn from and vicariously root for. As another example, courting the 40+ female demographic for the sitcom Hot In Cleveland called for the casting of four age-appropriate stars: Jane Leeves (51), Wendy Malick (62), Valerie Bertinelli (52) and Betty White (90). Seeing these attractive, plucky, single women navigating life and love in the 21st century was an instant hit with viewers who found the situational silliness to be totally plausible. Inviting an audience into the protagonist‘s shoes every week requires that the protagonist possess traits, skills, relationships and dreams that the average, workaday person might like to have themselves. Whether it‘s for their courage, looks, brains, powers, talents, popularity, large New York apartments or just their ensemble of wacky but loyal friends, relatable characters are those that viewers will want to stay with for the whole ride. Just being relatable, however, isn‘t enough when it comes to the longevity of a series. Whether the genre is comedic or dramatic, the characters must exist within a framework that gives them sustainable problems. These fall into three categories: 1. THE PROTAGONIST WITH ONGOING BUT INSULAR TRIBULATIONS. In most cases, the character has been living with the problem for years but it is neither threatening enough to create a call for action nor capable of ever being resolved within its current context. Examples: Everybody Loves Raymond; The Office. 2. THE PROTAGONIST WITH AN ONGOING PERSONAL QUEST. In this motif, the lead character never loses sight of his/her core mission no matter how many new relationships, obstacles or distractions come along. Examples: The Fugitive; Monk. 3. THE PROTAGONIST WITH AN ONGOING COMMITMENT TO RESOLVE OTHER PEOPLE‘S PROBLEMS. Dramatic series that revolve around lawyers, doctors and investigators fall into this category and feature an ensemble cast that interacts each week with new characters whose presence is typically confined to just one episode. Examples: Grimm; Rosemary & Thyme. ASSIGNMENT #1 What are the last three TV shows you watched? For each one, explain which of the categories described above apply to the lead characters and why. ASSIGNMENT #2 In the original series you want to write, which of these same categories apply to your protagonist and why? What is the prevailing social hierarchy (office, family, school, marriage) and how does your protagonist fit into it? CONFLICT GROWS OUT OF CHARACTER/CHARACTER GROWS OUT OF CONFLICT No matter what genre you choose for your TV series, there has to be something at stake that continuously drives the action forward. Conflict is, thus, the intersection where your characters‘ respective intentions, beliefs, and past experiences all crash into each other. Conflict, however, can‘t simply emerge from nothing; it needs to be fueled by the clash of wills that occurs whenever people who feel they have nothing in common are forced to share the same space. Bringing these dissimilar personalities together is what ignites the conflict that keeps the story watchable. Think of your script, then, as a figurative ―locked room‖ in which the characters must either learn to co-exist with their differences or to disable the opposition. Human beings – even the fictional ones running around inside your head – are works in progress. In the episodes you‘ll be writing for them, your characters will routinely – and even reluctantly - be forced to confront their fears, flaws and value systems when presented with problems they‘ve never faced before. Whether it‘s a rampaging monster that comes into town or a loved one who‘s moving out of the picture, the lead character is sometimes called upon to make some adjustments to his/her thinking. If this conflict had not been introduced, things would have pretty much stayed status quo. This evolution is called the ―character arc‖ and suggests that whoever a person was at the beginning will be impacted by the conflict, a condition which will foment the seeds that challenge him or her to expand beyond previous limitations by the final scene. While this works handily for movie scripts that have a finite resolution, TV characters tend to evolve very little from season to season. Accordingly, no matter the situation that arises, we can predict with a fair amount of accuracy how they are going to react to it and this is exactly what makes us feel so comfortable with them. Although there may be occasional moments when they do something completely out of character – i.e., The Office‘s conniving Dwight Schrute performing a selfless act or the dependable Joe Hackett from Wings having an angry meltdown – it‘s only a short-lived lapse. When series fail, however, it‘s often because their writers attempted tactics that took characters out of their comfort zones. This reinvention phenomenon has been dubbed ―jumping the shark‖ and has its own website: http://www.tvguide.com/jumptheshark. PERSONALITY PROFILES Back in the days when I ran an acting company, a routine component of the rehearsal process was for my actors to complete a one-page questionnaire about the characters they were playing. Although the questions asked sometimes had nothing to do with the actual roles (i.e., asking what type of car he or she would drive, even though cars had yet to be invented in the era being portrayed), it was a useful exercise for understanding their characters‘ personalities inside out. Specifically, they weren‘t as likely to forget their lines during a performance if they had spent the time beforehand immersing themselves in who their characters really were. This exercise also works well for writers because it provides a blueprint from which to develop situational comedy or drama. ASSIGNMENT #3 Pretend you are the lead character in your TV series and answer each of the following questions. Full name: Age/Gender/Ethnicity: Relationship Status: Occupation: Education: Living relatives: Lifestyle/Locale: Pet(s): My greatest strength: My biggest weakness: My deepest fear: My most treasured possession: What I‘d do with a million dollars: My closest friend: My worst enemy: The last time I laughed: The last time I cried: My favorite food: My favorite song: The person I‘d most like to trade places with: The one thing I hope no one ever learns about me:
© Copyright 2024