So the fates smile and a network picks up "Andy" and now the task is to create twenty-six hour-long episodes that balance viewer satisfaction with viewer anticipation of what comes next. How does one make episode #14 both a satisfying dramatic experience in and of itself and at the same time "tease" the viewer with what's going to happen to one or more of the lead characters next week?

       Will the tools on this site be up to the task? Of course I hope the answer is yes. They have stood me in good stead up until now, but that has always been in oeuvres intended to stand alone.

       I lean heavily on "The Writer's Journey" when I construct a story but I suspect in this case Chris Vogler's twelve steps will guide the overarching, season-long shape of each character's tale. In creating any given episode, Jeff Kitchen's "sequence, proposition and plot" will likely be more useful. It is the immediacy of the first two questions that draws me to that conclusion. Question #1 is, "What is the object of the story?" That translates into, "Why tell this story in the first place?", "Why should anyone care about this tale?", "Why should I care about writing this tale?"

       Question #2 is, "What happens on-screen with real actors to demonstrate that object?" As one writes an individual episode, knowing the answer to that question will not only facilitate writing the first draft, but will also protect you when the slings and arrows of self-doubt begin to fly.

       I will let you know if this is how it turns out in fact, but I envision something like this:  Episode #8, "The Competition," is about male rivalry and the scene that really brings home the bacon is where the old boyfriend confronts Andy [the android sexbot] with, "You stole my girl, you son of a bitch!"

       Challenges abound. With lots of features in my portfolio I have been surprised over the last couple weeks at how hard it is to create a pilot for a TV series. The pilot I have in mind is "Andy," based on the screenplay of the same name.

       "How hard can that be?" you ask. That's what I thought, too. The movie's done, the characters are there, nicely developed, all their agendas and greatest fears addressed - what's to struggle with? For me, it's been two things:

       First, there will be thirteen or twenty-six, or some number of episodes, toward the end of which, some number of conflicts and crises will have to first peak and then resolve themselves (or cliff-hang themselves). I have been reading "The Showrunner's Roadmap" by Neil Landau, professor at UCLA School of Film and it is both a good read and a good resource. The book features a significant number of interviews with A-list showrunners and one of Neil's common questions is, "How much of the season is plotted out before any episodes are written?" These experienced people are comfortable (to a greater or lesser degree) with the story developing rather organically. That is, what happens in episode twenty-one will be and should be impacted by events in episode seven and nine and maybe fourteen. There always seems to be some vision of where the story will go by season's end, but almost all of the interviewees accept the uncertainties of input by various directors and especially of the actors who are bringing the characters to life week after week.

       So the challenge is how, in the sixty or so pages of the pilot, does one set up those key events if one has not conceived those events. I know the basic premise of "Andy" and have an idea of the structure of the episodes but I find myself stymied by the scope of the upcoming task. By scope I mean, "Holy cow, is this a lot of work!"

       Maybe that's enough blogging for today. Tomorrow, creating a story in a format which of necessity does not wrap up, does not have a crisis and a climax and a return with the elixir. . .

       A lot of funny stories have an emotional truth lurking behind the laughs. And so do a lot of "meaningful" stories contain some good humor (and not the ice cream confection kind of Good Humor). This is the story I mentioned in the last post and it's funny and has to do with friendship and taking oneself too seriously, etc.

       I was working out the ideas for the Io Jaxx trilogy, working on the first story, "Forged in the Fire," and as usual, the idea started with a bedtime story for my two boys and then morphed into a song and then into a screenplay. I sent the lyrics to the Gassmen and Mark Menning came up with this wonderful pair of guitar licks and a patter/rap treatment.

       Well, "Forged . . ." is meant to be campy and more than a little corny - and so when Muck played with the pseudo-seriousness of it, I was all excited about how good this was going to be. Things like, "Now the temptation was high," which in my version was the end of the verse. But Muck delivered: "Now the temptation was high ... (beat, beat, beat) ... it was extremely high." I loved it!

       So it came time to lay down the tracks. The synth drum part was good and the guitar licks and bass and keyboards all came together. And it was the evening and the morning of the fourth day and the Gassmen saw it and it was good. Muck came to me and he said, "Don't worry, when I do the final vocal take I'll do it straight," and I was like, "Whoa, no!  Do it the way you did the first time." And he got it - had gotten it the first time. And the story that's told goes like this 

       I often wonder who has the balls to be irreverent when money is involved. I'm afraid the "executives" who filter Hollywood's queries and spec samples are under pressure (or feel the pressure) to use metrics and tried-and-true formulas in deciding whether or not to send a spec up the chain to people who can actually say yes. Not to be unkind but I suspect there's no clanking sound when they wander around their office. Maybe they keep 'em "in a jar by the door."

       To quote the sage, "It's a hard world to get a break in."

       A couple days ago I got an email from Mark Menning, one of my bandmates in the Gassmen. He had been doing some editing of tracks from a much earlier recording session and had a new version of "Vermiana," which if you've looked at this site you know is one of the songs in the Io Cycle (song cycle and screenplay trilogy). There's never an end to the fascination of what different results can be had from the same source material. The version that you can hear on the loglines page ("Vermaina") does not have the same audio tracks, though it does have many of the same keyboard parts, played live for the 1987 Refinery takes and then played either live or in MIDI for the version that's here.

       I went to SoundClick today and the song is at number 75 (out of at least several hundred). Mark has access to the statistics for number of plays, etc. and said to me that "Io Jaxx" (known here as "Koorg & Gaar") has a steady following. His joke was that he imagines an Eastern European cult whose religion is based on the exploits of Io and Dexter. It is that sense of humor that has kept our friendship fresh all these years. It is the "good doctor's" voice on the "rap" in "Forged in the Fire." There's a story behind that but it's too long for today.

       Anyway, here's the link to the new & different version on SoundClick. It will take you to the Gassmen page and clicking on the "Vermiana" link will open an MP3 player.

 http://www.soundclick.com/bands/default.cfm?bandid=338315

       Enjoy!

       Worked a lot over the last few days on scoring samples for "Through the Trees," a short written and produced by my friend and writing-group colleague Ryan Donovan and directed by my friend and (also) writing-group colleague, Ade Akisanya. They sent me a link to the nearly-complete edit and I've been having a ball creating music I think will enhance the images. I did a similar project for my then-roomate Mike Vogas my junior year at Hope College, except on that occasion the college orchestra recorded my score live and this year it's all synthesizer - all electronic.

       So the most fun was going through the stops in my keyboard. Lo and behold, here's a stop called "movie score." Well, we've got to poke a few keys on that thing and sure enough, it sounds like a movie. It was like, "Yeah, I'm scoring a movie now!" The video looks really good. I feel very lucky to have been script supervisor and if they choose the material I'm sending, I will take immense pride in that as well.

       Had tea with Laurie Scheer on Monday. What a beautiful person to have as a friend and Mentor. The Drake lived up to its reputation as one of Chicago's premier afternoon tea venues - little finger sandwiches, fancy pastries, scones, clotted cream, lemon curd, strawberry preserves - and Blue Jasmine tea. I could get into doing that more regularly.

       In Wednesday’s post I mentioned two epiphanies while at the Madison Writers Conference. Yesterday I talked a little about Ken Miyamoto. Today is for Jane Friedman.

       Not sure why my only contact with this delightful lady was her keynote of the final day? Oversight, I guess. What’s important is that I was there for her Sunday morning presentation, The Future of Authorship. It’s equally important that her epiphany followed Ken’s chronologically.

       Jane mentioned a site called Wattpad  -  home to a high-volume audience for serialized release of stories. If one has just decided to tackle a series of short stories meant to pair with the concepts and storylines of “Andy” (the TV series) then that author surely must look into Wattpad as a possible medium. I have looked into it since and suspect I will start publishing there (if that’s the right terminology?) as soon as I’ve done some legwork on the stories themselves.

       I also looked at Jane’s website, janefriedman.com and it’s obvious why it gets all kinds of awards and recognition. I expect to go there regularly for the treasure trove of information and links.

       I mentioned yesterday that my chat with Ken at the Madison writers conference represented something of an epiphany and maybe that’s worth a little elaboration.

       My goal was to tap Ken’s experience and expertise to answer some questions and suggest the most effective way to proceed with the several projects that are on my plate and related to each other:  ARC (the novel), ARC (the two screenplays based on the novel), “Baby Shoes” (the anthology of filmed shorts), “Andy” (the movie), and “Andy” (the TV series).

       He offered some discouraging words, among them that an unproduced writer out of Evanston, Illinois is really not likely to: 1) be made showrunner [“they’ll get someone experienced to do that and they won’t want you around”], 2) sell a screenplay with a budget north of $100 million, 3) capture the interest of a producer in an odd project like an anthology of shorts.

       So I asked him which impossible mountain I should try scaling first and that’s where the epiphany came in. He said, “That project of the TV series is interesting. Even though selling it as a TV series – selling it cold – probably can’t be done, you should think about writing some of the episodes as short stories.”

       I’ve been thinking about what would be in the “bible” for the “Andy” show and what sort of themes the various episodes might tackle and that fits in so closely with telling short stories. Not sure to what extent it has been done before but from the outside it just seems an eminently logical first step.

       So thank you Ken.

       As a post script, he also said, “You should write the pilot – it’s a good exercise.” I have also been thinking I would need to write the pilot in any case so once again his comment and my inclination lined up. Thanks again.

       Ken’s website is escriptshub.com.  It’s an interesting place and worth more than a few minutes banging around over there to see what he has to offer.

       This past weekend (Fri, April 4 to Sunday, April 6) I went to Madison Wisconsin for the writers conference hosted by Laurie Scheer and the UW Madison Continuing Studies department. I am, as you know a big Laurie Scheer fan and forgive my shameless bragging about her success, but the attendance was well over 300 writers and the collection of presenters, agents and editors was top-notch.

       One goes to this sort of event hoping for helpful information, maybe some inspiration, maybe some motivation. If you're lucky, you get an epiphany - and I got lucky and I got two. Thanks to Ken Miyamoto I clarified a direction for my writing over the next few months and thanks to Jane Friedman I have an exciting new venue through which to promote and share that creative output.

       Someone has been a bad boy and allowed four months to go by without posting on his blog. I expect that to change moving forward and will post tomorrow and the next day on first Ken's insights and then I will share Jane's information as well.

          I've been following the pilot and second episode of "Almost Human," with great interest as one might expect. Also read an article the other day interviewing some of the talent and producers. Wish I could figure whether "Andy" is ahead or hurt by the obvious parallels?

          This weekend will wrap up the shooting of “Through the Trees,” a short written by my friend and “Tuesday Group” colleague, Ryan Donovan (and directed by another friend and Tuesday colleague, Ade Akisanya). Can’t tell you what a rewarding experience it has been to work on the filming last weekend and now again this Saturday.
          One knows that movies move. What has fascinated me most is how much the camera moves. As a stage actor, my audience has always been out there in front of me – and they have to stay in their seat. I had not realized how much a movie-viewer’s perspective is driven by movement of the camera while shooting. If you look at the trailer for “Garage Band,” shot by me on stone-age equipment, you’ll see me thinking like a stage play audience member. “Just sit still and pay attention to what’s in front of you.”
          I only hope that as I experience movies from now on, that I can stop wondering about where the camera was and how it moved. One more distraction from the story that’s supposed to be capturing my full attention.