Hanging your metaphorical arse out the window a bit

Finished the rough first draft of my new spec script late on Monday. Been writing it off and on in bursts for several weeks, wrapped round other work. As always, the last day proved the most productive in terms of page count, simply because the last few pages pay-off the many, many plot elements and character revelations set up earlier.

Yesterday I spent reading the whole thing back in one seating, with the dialogue out loud to ensure it could actually be spoken. Making up the script as I went along for corrections, tweaks and improvements. Applying the Roden test [named after David Roden from the BBC], where you put a mark on the script whenever tempted to look elsewhere.

Then it was time for tweaking, polishing and finessing a fine of the minor points and problems, adding clarifications or simply streamlining the narrative. Cut a scene from very late in the script and relocated another to smooth the narrative. Retro-fitted a moment into an early scene that had a nice pay-off later. Stuff like that, really.

And now the script is out being read by a range of people with different opinions, experiences and expertise. By this time next week I should have a broad spectrum of feedback to consider. Are the opening scenes too off-putting? Does the three-stranded plot narrative work, or should I consider ditching one of the three protagonists?

Sending a new script out to be read feels very exposed, like hanging your arse out the window and inviting people to pass judgement. It's an absolutely necessary step in the process, but you can't help feeling a little bit exposed. [Is this the moment the world realises you're a fraud, you can't help but wonder.] Needs must, I guess.

When it comes to feedback, every opinion is valid. Even if you wildly disagree with the note, it will tend to highlight an underlying issue that needs consideration. If the majority of readers come back with the same note, you know it's a significant problem. If only one or two people highlight an issue, it may be less vexing.

Once all the feedback's in and contemplated, the rewriting begins. I've no doubt there are scenes that need expanding or cutting altogether. Character dialogue that wobbles all over the place, and characterisation in need to sharpening. I'd like to think the plot works well, but structural choices are all up grabs. No point being precious.

My goal's to make the next draft the best it can be. Does each scene advance the plot or reveal character? Better yet, does it do both at the same time? Do characters have distinctive voices? Does their dialogue crackle, pop and snap along? Have I made the most of visual storytelling, or could more dialogue be replaced with reaction shots?

Then there's tone, a massive challenge for any writer. I've striven for a mix of comedy and drama, mixing lighter moments with more serious sequences. Hopefully the readers will empathise with the three main characters, want to know more about them, want to see what happens to them next. Hopefully. Time - and feedback - will tell.

In case you're wondering, the script's for a returning drama police procedural series. I opted for a template episode rather than a pilot that sets up the premise. Reading this script should offer a sense of the show's narrative format, the sort of stories the series would tell, the way the characters will interact with each other.

I used a new character joining a pre-existing team to introduce the set-up to the reader while keeping exposition to a bare minimum. It might be a familiar device, but it works if deployed well [fingers crossed]. And there's a tip of the hat to two of my favourite TV dramas, The Cops and Hill Street Blues, because I couldn't resist it.

Once the next draft is done, I plan to submit it as my sample for the BBC Writers' Academy. Hundreds apply every year for only eight places, so any application faces long odds. But the quality of your writing sample is crucial to put you in the running for a place in the workshop stage, where some two dozen people are summoned to London.

Obviously, I hope to make it that far in the process but simple maths tells you not to hold your breath. With fewer opportunities elsewhere for emerging scribes, the Writers' Academy looms ever larger on the landscape. You can build a very successful career without it, but the academy is like adding rocket fuel to your ambitions.

Let's assume I don't make the academy. The good news is I have a new spec pilot to be deployed as my calling card script, once it's been torn apart, rewritten and polished to gleaming. I don't expect the series I've created will ever get made, but the script shows what I'm capable of writing right now - and that's very useful. Onwards!

Breaking a story with Post-It Notes

A lot of American TV dramas use a writers' room to brainstorm plot and structure [a process knowing as breaking the story]. There's one writer in charge - the showrunner - who is responsible for maintaining and protecting the creative vision of the series being built in the room. Often the showrunner originated the series, but not always.

The showrunner hires other writers to help them break individual stories in the room. Once these are sufficiently developed, the episodes are assigned to one of the writers [or writing partnerships] in the room to work up into a treatment [or scene by scene breakdown]. Once that's nailed, the writer or partnership script the episode - but the final draft of that script is almost always by or given a polish by the showrunner.

[You can read a lot more about writers' rooms, how they work and what can go wrong in a fascinating roundtable discussion here. You can see the writers' room in action for The Sarah Connor Chronicles here and here. Warning: these YouTube clips contain spoilers for both seasons of the show.]

Alas, when you're developing the script for a new putative TV drama of your own devising, you don't have the luxury of a writers' room to help break the story - you have to do your own heavy lifting. You have to find the voice of the show, the tone, the storytelling approach, the narrative format, the characters, the sequence of events, the shape of the structure - the everything, in other words.

I'm working on a new pilot script for a returning drama series at the moment. Having already spent a lot of time thinking about my core characters and my basic concept, I've devoted much of the last week to breaking the story for my first ep. Now, if it was a show that followed one main protagonist with a supporting cast of characters, that might have been a little easier. But why make things easy, right?

I decided to write a show about three main characters, each with their own story strands. Each character has a thematic plotline that develops across the first ep, along with a bunch of smaller subplots that pop at various points. Right now, I don't know which character will emerge with the big A story. I've got my suspicions, but I'm leaving wiggle room in case one of them demands the spotlight.

So I've been juggling my three core characters and all the incidents they encounter during the one day covered by the first ep. To make things a little easier for myself, I've colour-coded the characters. [I know, I know, this displays an Adrian Mole level of anal retention on my part - such is life.] Anyway, Lorna's story beats are orange, Grace got pink and Tahira got orange. Makes it easier to keep track.

Next I wrote each character's story beats on to coloured Post-It notes. As a rule, I try to keep each note down to six words. If you can't describe the vital elements in six words, you've got more than one beat on a Post-It. [I fail spectacularly at this, by the way.] Next, the really fun part - sticking all the Post-Its to a whiteboard and arranging them into order. Then rearranging them, again and again.

In the picture above, you can see an in-progress version of my whiteboard for the ep I'm developing at the moment. It's moved on a lot since this photo was taken, but you get the idea. I'm not claiming this system is original, foolproof or a work of genius [I wish!], but it seems to work for me. Some people use colour coded index cards and a pin board, others prefer to use an iPad and an app called Corkulous.

After much rearranging of notes, I'm about ready to transfer my plot points into a Word document - effectively a beat sheet for the first ep. From there I'll be working the elements up into a scene by scene, once I've figured out where and when each scene happens [not to mention emotional beats that happen around plot points]. All before I get to write a word of script. Oh well, respect the process. Onwards!