"What I Didn't Include Yesterday"

You sometimes wonder if you are a good writer.  Although why personalize it?  (The “you” in the first sentence being transparently “Me”?)

Let’s put it this way.

What does it mean to be “a good writer”?

The definitive answer, even within the narrow parameters of half-hour comedy writing is,

“It depends.”

Yesterday’s example involved the short-lived sitcom Mr. Sunshine, which succeeded to the extent that it got through the competitive “pitching” process, was  “picked up for pilot”, and ran on network TV for one year. 

Ask anyone whose pilot “pitch” was shot down – even if they validated the parking – those guys did quite well.

The argument today is, mastering each hurdle on the way to a long-running series and a big house requires a somewhat different kind of “good writer” at each juncture, and since the participant at each juncture is “you”, you may find yourself winning and losing the “good writer” ribbon as you proceed. 

Sometimes what you do fits; sometimes what you do, doesn’t.

The first type of “good writer” comes up with a viable series idea.  Sufficiently different but not The Girl With Green Skin.

With Mr. Sunshine – an idea closer to the “I don’t think so” end of the continuum –  you get a show whose lead character is blind.  Hey, they are trying to get on the air.  And there is a glut of shows where the lead character can see.

Okay, so they buy Mr. Sunshine.  And it’s off to the pilot.

Let me go out on a limb here.  (Can you feel the excitement?  I am palpably trembling.)

The greatest half-hour comedy pilots of what would become long-running TV series, are virtual “stick figures”, compared to the richness and nuance those shows would eventually display.

Why?

Because “richness and nuance” do not “test” well.

(And all pilots are tested.)

What specifically tests well?

“Funny” and “clarity.”

Pilots are written to “hammer” the premise and endear the characters.

“Dazzling subtlety”?

No.

“Wait.  Doesn’t ‘dazzling subtlety’ say you’re a good writer?”

Not in a pilot. 

Beyond the odd sprinkling of “dazzling subtlety”, pilots are sitcoms written entirely in crayon. 

At that stage, it is painfully possible a virtual “hack” writer can score, while a “good writer” goes home, wondering what they did wrong.

Later, however, when the established show stays on the air:

“Dazzling subtlety.”

In fact, at that stage, “dazzling subtlety” is a “must.”  Otherwise, you are in “one-joke” Mr. Sunshine territory, and you are cancelled in one year. 

The best shows are more than just crossword puzzle “variations on a theme”, where you weekly fill in the letters.  In great shows the characters are roundedly three-dimensional.  (Check out some pilots of series you liked.  You’ll find they look rudimentary compared to what they eventually became.  Are there exceptions?  Sure.  But you want me to stay here all day?)

“Deeper and richer” – that’s “good writing.”  It’s not “good writing” on a pilot, where it would actually be “bad writing.”  But, once the show’s original premise wears thin, you have no choice but to “go quality.”  If you are a really “good writer”, you learned how along the way.

Okay, one “exception”, and then I go swimming.

Hits like The Big Bang Theory (and Three’s Company before it) did not essentially change.  They followed a different template to pay dirt:  “Thin characters – great jokes.”

I never worked on a show for more than one season.  So I do not know if I have the requisite “good writer” gifts to deftly carry a show “the distance.”

But that’s all right.

This wasn’t about me, was it?