by Linda Venis
As for verbal jokes, they come in a wide variety of forms, often dependent on some sort of surprise. They can be twists on common phrases or reversals of common sentiments. (“I should have the courage of my lack of convictions,” said Tom Stoppard.) They can exploit varying meanings of words or phrases (as in the vaudeville classic: “Call me a taxi.” “Okay, you’re a taxi”). Jokes can employ double entendres (simple words like it, in, and thing do a lot of work here, as in the bumper sticker “Math teachers do it with unknowns”). Malaprops, or unintentional misstatements, work for some characters. (Yogi Berra supposedly said, “No one goes to that restaurant anymore. It’s too crowded.”)
And never forget the “rule of three.” Establish a pattern with the first two elements of the joke, and then twist up the pattern in the third. (“If peanut oil comes from peanuts, and olive oil comes from olives, what does baby oil come from?” asked Lily Tomlin.)
Comic devices come in many forms—alliteration, repetition, incongruity, misunderstandings, absurdity, stereotypes, physical gags (though be careful of these in a spec since, as we said, the stage directions are not always read carefully). Use any of these devices to amp up the comedy in your script. But always remember that the best jokes come out of character and from milking each character’s comic flaws.
The yin and yang of comedy are surprise and predictability. We laugh because something is surprising, and we also laugh because something is predictable. Aristotle wrote that the most satisfying ending of a tragedy is both surprising and inevitable; the same thing is true of jokes.
Once More unto the Breach
You’ve heard that writing is rewriting. To a writer, that’s like saying tomorrow the sun is going to come up in the east. The truth is that writing happens by accretion. Yes, of course there’s inspiration, the occasional visit from the muses, but plowing through your work again and again, gradually building it up and making it better through revision, is what every writer does. If you’re determined to join our merry band, the writers of the world, you must put your shoulder to the plow and forge ahead. So now—rewrite!
The Chambers “After You’ve Written Your First Draft…Write the
Second” Checklist
What to look for as you rewrite? Problems and opportunities.
What’s your page count?
Do you get off to a fast start? Do you have a good joke or two on page 1?
Is your exposition laid in naturally?
Have you serviced all the regular characters and do they sound like themselves?
Are your act breaks spaced evenly, and do those act breaks pop?
Do you have a solid ending for each scene?
Do you resolve things too easily?
Have you overexplained or underexplained things?
Ready to put in the jokes and “tickle the script”?
Rev it up to rewrite!
Writing Is Rewriting, Rewriting, and
Did We Mention Rewriting, Again?
Again with the congratulations, this time on your first rewrite! We say “first rewrite” because, well, you’ll need to do more.
Put It in a Drawer
The best thing you can do now is to “put the script in a drawer.” That’s a writerly way of saying you’re too close to the script to look at it objectively. So, if you can, try not to look at it for a few days or a couple weeks. Of course, if you have some inspiration that you think will make it better, you can make a note of that, maybe even insert it in the script. But if you don’t, give yourself a little time away from the script. Otherwise, you’re never going to have the fresh eyes you need to see its weaknesses and know how to bolster its strengths.
When you go back to writing, keep in mind the items on the “After You’ve Written Your First Draft” checklist. Those are the issues you need to continue to think about and work on as you move forward.
Hear It Out Loud
Once you’ve taken some time away from your script and then gone back through it a few times, you will eventually come to the point where you think that your script is in pretty good shape. Now we recommend you stage a reading. There’s nothing like hearing your words acted out loud to know if they play in the world and not just in your head.
So, have a reading of your script, with friends. Your script is not fully polished and finished yet, so do not invite anyone who means something in show business to this reading—not agents, producers, studio or network executives, managers, directors, writers you know casually. (The single possible exception to this is writers who are close friends and whom you trust, and we mean that you trust them a lot.) Don’t read anything aloud yourself; just listen. Get someone else to read the slug lines (those headings that are always capitalized and that indicate a change of scene, location, and time) and stage directions, and assign parts to your actor/readers. If all involved agree, you may want to record the reading. Once it starts, your job is to listen and take notes for yourself. You will hear which jokes fall flat, what scenes don’t play, which sequences and speeches feel too long, what transitions are clumsy, which characters’ voices are out of rhythm, and lots of other things that just don’t sit quite right.
Listen, Don’t Defend
After the reading, ask all the people involved what they thought of the script. Again, your job is to listen. Do not—repeat—do not defend your work. You may have good reasons why you did something, but you’re not going to get true and unvarnished opinions if people feel you don’t really want to hear what they think. And you want true and unvarnished opinions. Someone who tells you, “That was really great,” is more likely feeding your ego and being nice, but as pleasant as they feel, compliments do not help your script get any better. Defending your work is a sure way not to get much good, solid feedback.
So, simply listen and take notes on what people say, whether you agree with them or not. In the privacy of your next rewrite, you can decide which of the notes you got are worth considering, and sometimes a note you were ready to dismiss will have, as you reflect further, more value than you initially thought. The same holds true for people you ask to read the script at their leisure and then give you their thoughts. Do not defend, but listen, learn, and perhaps, if appropriate, discuss it with them in an unchallenging way. Then, in the privacy of your study, make your own judgments.
Finally, you should genuinely thank anyone who came to your reading or is willing to read your script and give you feedback. They’ve gone out of their way and taken their time to try to help you.
Maximize the Funny
Now that you’ve heard your words aloud, as you go through your script again look carefully at your jokes. Is each one fresh? Which ones could be sharper? Don’t be a pioneer (comedy icon Garry Marshall’s term for an “early settler”), meaning don’t settle for those mediocre placeholder jokes you first came up with. But also, don’t throw out your gold nuggets just because you’re tired of them!
Classes and Writers’ Groups
Since you’re now starting to take your script out into the world, you should consider taking a class in comedy writing like those we teach at UCLA Extension Writers’ Program. Another very helpful thing is to join or start a writers’ group. Writing television comedy in the real world is, by and large, done around a table by a group of writers.
When you get an assignment or a job on a show, you will not come up with the story idea all by yourself, go off and write it, then turn it in and see it produced just as you wrote it. No, the story will be worked out “in the room” or “at the table” with other writers. You may write the first draft yourself, but after that, it’s another group effort to rewrite your draft multiple times before it’s finally shot. That system works; the script benefits from the creative input of a variety of comedic minds.
To be in a writers’ group is to mimic, to a degree, the atmosphere of a professional writers’ room. It’s extremely helpful to hear how your stuff works, or doesn’t work, for others who are interested in writing television come
dy. You also get another benefit, which is the opportunity to carefully read and think about the work of others. Believe us, when you do get a chance to work on a television writing staff, you are not just thinking about your own writing but constantly reading and thinking about the work of others. A writers’ group provides you with great mental exercise in framing stories and thinking of jokes.
The Importance of Appearance
Before you send your script out to anyone who can really help your career, make sure it looks flawlessly professional. Proofread it carefully. It’s helpful to read it from back to front so you’re not in the story flow. Have someone else proofread it for you too. You may even want to pay a professional proofreader. Why is this so important? Well, some Savvy Readers are sticklers for grammar, spelling, and punctuation. You don’t want your funny script to be put in the reject pile because it has easily correctable errors, like writing their when you mean they’re or there.
As we suggested earlier, copy precisely the way the scripts are written for the show you’re writing (but without making it look like a production script). Start with a title page that has these three items centered: the name of the series in caps, the title of your episode in quotes, and “Written by” you (if you’re writing with a partner, use an ampersand] between your names, not and, which in Hollywood indicates separate writers doing separate drafts). Then write your contact information in a lower corner. Do not date the title page, and do not indicate it’s copyrighted or registered with the Writers Guild. That makes you look like an amateur. (By the way, if you’re too worried about being ripped off, you may want to rethink aiming for a career in show business. We’ve been ripped off before, and so have most writers we know; it comes with the territory.)
Use the same standard font on the title page and throughout the script. That font is Courier 12 or Times New Roman 12. PDFs are increasingly common; for hard copies, regular white paper only, three-hole punched, and bound with two brads, in the top and bottom holes. No other binding is professional—not spiral, not spring-bound, not stapled or paper-clipped. Paginate in the upper right-hand corner, starting with the first page of the script (not the title page).
If you’re writing on a screenwriting program (Final Draft and Movie Magic are the ones most commonly used by professionals), the formatting of your script will conform to industry standards. But if you’re writing your script on a regular word processing program, you’ll need to use the tab key a lot to make your script look professional. Don’t worry. It’s not that hard to do. In fact, before screenwriting programs, that’s how it was done by everyone.
If you’re writing an episode of a single-camera show, you don’t need to use the editorial transition CUT TO in your script. It’s a bit passé these days and interrupts the read. If, however, a joke is dependent on a particular transition, or a passage of time needs to be indicated, you should probably use a transition like SMASH CUT TO for a visual joke or DISSOLVE TO for a time transition.
If you’re writing an episode of a multiple-camera series, make sure you’re following the very particular format of that species of show. If you haven’t been able to get a script for the show you’re writing, find a script from another multiple-camera show and mimic that. These scripts are different from those of single-camera shows (and film scripts, too). The dialogue must be double-spaced, and the stage directions are fully capped. Most multiple-camera shows will use editorial transitions between scenes, like CUT TO and DISSOLVE TO, and you should, too. You want to be sure your script looks like a multicamera script and not a single-camera one. That’s a dead giveaway to the Savvy Reader that you don’t really get it.
Finally, use standard margins—don’t fool with them to squeeze in more material, expand a script that’s too short, or make your page count look reasonable. The Savvy Reader knows just how the margins should look and will instantly see you’re cheating.
You’re Looking Good!
Congratulations one last time! You wrote to “The End,” then rewrote multiple times, polished, and refined. Now send your script out into the world and start working on your next one. Why? Because writers write, not just one script but many scripts. And any Savvy Reader who you’re fortunate enough to get your script to and who likes it is 99.99 percent sure not to say, “I want to buy this.” No, the Savvy Reader will tell you it’s good and ask the question every writer knows so well—“What else have you got?” If you have more work, if you can prove you’re not a one-trick pony but can write consistently good material, you may be on your way to making it as a television comedy writer.
The Chambers “Writing Is Rewriting, Rewriting, and Did We Mention Rewriting, Again?” Checklist
Put the script in a drawer for a bit before you rewrite it again.
Hold a reading and listen to your script being read aloud.
Listen to what people say about your script, without defending your choices.
Maximize the funny.
Think about taking a class and/or joining or starting a writers’ group.
Make sure the physical presentation of your script is flawless.
What else have you got?
Postscript
As we recommend in this chapter, you should try to find a sample of a produced script for the show you want to write and then mimic the format it uses. (One caveat when you copy a particular show’s format: Avoid notations that only apply to production scripts, like numbering the scenes, having “Continued” at the top or bottom of the page, listing the characters in each scene immediately under the slug line, and any other information that’s unnecessary until the script is being readied for production by the director and crew.)
If you can’t find a script for the show you’re writing, you can follow one of the formatting samples below.
Example of a Single-Camera Format from a Pilot Written by Julie Chambers & David Chambers, “Too Mean to Die”:
“TOO MEAN TO DIE”
TEASER
EXT. TOWN SQUARE — DAY
This is London…Missouri. It’s a typical weekday noontime.
CAMERA FOLLOWS CARSON POPE, 29, handsome, walking down the street. He looks more metro than the townsfolk he passes.
CARSON
(to camera)
Otis Cribble? Everyone here in London, Missouri, knows Otis Cribble. He owns the newspaper, two banks, all three liquor stores….
A LITTLE KID runs by. Not breaking stride, Carson grabs him just before he runs into traffic. His MOTHER hurries over.
MOTHER
Thank you, Carson.
Carson nods and smiles, hands her the kid, and walks on.
CARSON
Cribble owns over half the farmland here in Schuyler County.
He comes upon a little OLD LADY using a walker.
CARSON (CONT’D)
Turning a little blue there, Miss Grimm. Maybe a tad more oxygen?
Carson adjusts the valve on her oxygen tank. She takes a deep breath, smiles and nods at him. Carson walks on.
CARSON (CONT’D)
Otis owns the radio station, the Internet café, four Laundromats…
Carson picks up a piece of litter, puts it in a trash can, and goes by MR. RANDLE, a store owner, sweeping the sidewalk.
CARSON (CONT’D)
Morning, Mr. Randle.
MR. RANDLE
Morning, Mr. Pope.
Carson continues walking down the street.
CARSON
Otis Cribble owns nearly everything in this town…but he doesn’t own me.
Carson walks into the biggest building on the square.
CLOSE ON: A sign over the door reads, “THE CRIBBLE COMPANY,” with a tile mosaic of a man who looks a lot like Dick Cheney.
JUMP CUT TO:
INT. EXECUTIVE SUITE — A MINUTE LATER
The man in the tile mosaic, OTIS CRIBBLE, 65, aggression oozing from every pore, swivels to face Carson. The dark wood walls are lined with trophy heads of elk, bear, and moose.
OTIS
Pope! How the hell did you get in?!
CARSON
I told your secretary I was hand-delivering these legal documents.
Carson touches Otis with the documents. Otis lets them fall to the floor.
CARSON (CONT’D)
Consider yourself served.
OTIS
(into intercom)
Dolores, you’re fired!
DOLORES (O.C.)
(over intercom)
Again?
OTIS
Pope, why don’t you take that fancy law degree to St. Louis and make some real money?
CARSON
Then who would keep Cribble Construction from overcharging the county for roadwork? See you in court.
Carson walks out.
Example of a multiple-camera format from a pilot written by Julie Chambers, “The Management”:
“THE MANAGEMENT”
COLD OPENING
EXTREME CLOSE UP: DOMINICK, AN ATTRACTIVE TWENTY-EIGHT-YEAR-OLD GUY, TALKS STRAIGHT TO CAMERA.
DOMINICK
After six years of working at one of the largest, most prestigious talent agencies in the world, I finally quit. Walked away from all the stress and pressure, all the glamour and money…(STARTS CRYING) My god! What have I done?
INT. BANK — DAY
PULL BACK: TO REVEAL HE’S CONFESSING TO A BANK TELLER WHO LOOKS A LITTLE WEIRDED OUT BY THIS, BUT OFFERS HIM A TISSUE.
TELLER
Would you like that in twenties, sir?
THE TELLER DOLES OUT THE CASH.
DOMINICK
(BUCKING HIMSELF UP) But it’s good, right? Now I can spend more time with my family. Family is the most important thing.
THE TELLER GIVES HIM AN OPTIMISTIC SMILE.
CUT TO:
INT. DOMINICK’S KITCHEN — AN HOUR LATER DOMINICK’S WIFE, RACHEL, 27, IS CLEARLY A TRANSPLANT FROM LONG ISLAND TO L.A.
RACHEL
