An old article of mine “The Six Deadly Script Sins” has recently resurfaced,  and some of the comments were that writers wanted less about the do’s and don’ts of “presenting” your script to agents / prod co’s  for consideration, but rather they wanted to know about the do’s and don’ts of writing. So, here are my newest Six Deadly Script Sins, only these are about the craft of screenwriting, not the submission process.

1) Have one ending – Jaws ends beautifully.

The end. There’s no more, just one end. There is no need for a tag, and then a tag’s tag, and then a button on the end of the final tag. Just decide what the end of your movie is and commit to it. It’s exhausting trying to navigate more than one proper conclusion. It also makes you seem indecisive and amateurish as a writer.

2) Have an active protagonist – You character should always be doing something. They have to be the catalyst that propels the story forward. Allowing supplemental characters to cause havoc surrounding the main character is good story development and excellent to add plot complications, but you can’t rest on that alone. Set up your protagonist with a singular goal from the outset and have him work towards achieving it the whole script. It will give your protagonist interesting depth as well as create a built in plot device. Also try a MacGuffin if that better suits your needs.

3) If you don’t outline you’ll die. Well not really, but it is serious. Always. Always. Even if by the end of your first draft you’ve completely gone another direction, write the outline anyway. It’s good homework for you to know what the story is. It’s important that you, the writer, understand the full breadth of your characters and the over arching story. An outline is a horrible, tedious thing, but it’s good for you. It’s the brussel sprouts of writing. Just eat them and shut up.

4) Stop worrying about the writing and start worrying about the content. Yes your script should be well written. It should be properly formatted and in the correct font. But that isn’t the end. Your script needs to be concise, visual and above all convey a complete story. Spend less time worrying about how beautifully your action passages read, and think more about the content. You’ll find that you’ll feel less stressed when you realize pretty prose is for novels.

5) Don’t be vanilla. Yes, 90% of movies have the same beats and structure. I know you’re all “But my script…” yeah yeah, no. Your script is the same basic structure as everyone else’s whether you choose to believe it or not. It’s not that your story isn’t special, it’s just that there’s everyone else in the world with a story in their heart that probably touches on some similar beats. What will make you stand out are the details. A utilitarian scene is often necessary to give information or move the story along. That is the perfect time to add weird, quirky details if it’s a comedy. Throw in extra layers to your joke by building in visual references to complement your dialogue. That way you’re effectively hiding the fact that you need this scene to move from A-B, but at least it was interesting and unexpected. That way you’re getting more bang for your buck. I love when you get more for your money. Add the details. It’s worth your time.

6) You’re not Tarantino. You’re not Diablo Cody. You’re not either Gilmore Girl. I don’t care how cool your friends think you are. I don’t care that you once waited on Jane Lynch while you were a cashier  at a Bookstar. You are you and as such you are special. Quit trying to write preciously clever dialogue that is pervasive throughout your whole script. If you have one mouthy teenager who says the coolest, hippest street ever. Awesome. Give her her own voice. She deserves it. But if mouthy teen’s mom, the green grocer, and an alien from Neptune all have the same patois, it grows immediately tiresome. Find a voice unique to each character. Allow each character to be rich and full. Don’t make them spew semi-cool dialogue out of every pore just so you, as a writer, can seem relevant. It’s just totes, lame peeps.

There’s tons more. As I think of them or as people comment I can certainly write more and expand on this as requested.

The last time I wrote a feature script, it was 5 years ago. I wrote an outline. I sat down and stuck to it. 10 days later I had written exactly the movie I outlined. I had produced 101 brand-spankin’-new script pages. It was cute. I was very pleased with myself.

The logline: An upscale NYC chef returns to Montana to open a restaurant, after she is publicly dumped and fired by her celebrity chef boyfriend.

It was all feelings, and quips, and beautiful food imagery. The characters were a little cloying, but on the whole it was charming. And it got good traction. Good enough traction, in fact, that along with some of my other specs, I started getting serious TV work.

Where’s the drama in this chain of events? Here’s the drame: after writing for television for 5 years, it was super difficult to around and remember how to write a feature script. Television is its own animal. Shows have to maintain consistency. They have to keep your favorite characters occupied for 22 to 44 minutes a week. And don’t forget act breaks, teaser and a tag. But just like Mr. T probably wouldn’t miss an A-Team mission to babysit, you have to make sure you stay true to the show before anything else. (p.s. this episode did not air… but it could’ve on “A-Team: Babies.”)

In TV, you basically have the creative freedom to do what ever you want, provided it fits within the pre-established confines of the show, such as characters, locations, plot points and the world in which they live. The show “mythos” is already establish. You are merely responsible for the machinations of the plot and clever character quips. That’s writing for television. It’s like an open book test.

When I was a kid, I loved to color but while my work was always beautiful and creative and interesting, it was always inside the lines. I wouldn’t cross those thick black lines with my crayons, not even at gun point. Writing for television is getting a coloring book page, and being told “You can be as creative as you like, provided you stay within the lines.”

Take a look at series bibles (here’s a pdf link to the series bible for Batman: The Animated Series) and you’ll see. The show runners have already fleshed out the world in vivid detail. They’ve given you some basic premises to give you a sense of what to pitch. And at the outset, a writer receives the character bios, the plot points they’re looking to hit,  and any other materials required to immerse yourself in a pre-established world.

Back to feature writing. So, 5 years go by and I have no movie ideas, until recently. As it’s not done yet, I still have 18 days to finish 50 pages (I’m feeling good about it) I’m not divulging any of my current Script Frenzy script secrets other than to say, it’s a comedy and well within my skill set. That being said, this has been the hardest “writing assignment” I’ve ever had!

I wrote my outline like I always had. An outline is an outline is an outline. It should always be basically the same, no matter what form or genre you’re writing. It should have broad strokes, and enough detail to keep you writing swiftly, a fully fleshed beginning, middle and end. You outline should cover basically every scene in the script, what happens, what is learned and then on to the next. So, I had one.

Then I started writing. The first 10 pages were like being constipated after eating fondue; uncomfortable! I was rigid and I wrote to the outline but it just laid there, flat and plain. There was no pizzazz, no sparkle, no Xandy. I had left myself no wiggle room to imagine, no creative freedom to try the unexplored. I knew my idea was good, in fact it’s already been pitched and there’s interest. I realized I was doing this all to myself because I was trapped in the boob tube.

This went on for a couple of days, until I found myself with my friend Merrel (he’s my story analyst) and I told him about my problem. He had read the outline already, so he was familiar with the work.

Merrel took one look at what I had written and said, “Quit writing for TV. Get out of the box of TV. You’re allowed to do whatever you want when writing movies. It’s not like you have to do what someone else wants. Do what you want.”

I’m sorry, do what I want what now? It was crazy. No one ever says “Do what you want. If people actually said that, everyone would be eating Oreos for breakfast, and there wouldn’t be a need to legalize marijuana. But in this case, he was exactly right.

Just to be really clear, it’s not like he gave me permission to go rob banks and shoot danger in my arm and completely ignore all the writing rules and regs and allow me to turn into the E.B. White of screenwriting. No. It’s more like he gave me permission to break the walls, within my established framework and construction. He helped me see that while I already had excellent, rigid structure in place, I didn’t need to keep my creativity in check while writing. That was allowed to roam free.

So, thanks largely to my story analyst, I’m now 52 pages along and the script is much funnier! Before it has the dynamism of cardboard, and now, it actually feels like a proper movie. I actively, like a new mantra, have to keep reminding myself that I don’t need to stay within someone else’s arbitrary rules.  I can color outside of the lines. I can create and invent anything. The only limit is me. And that’s a pretty awesome place to be.

While I won’t be eating oreos for breakfast, I am going to bake a lemon cake for dessert. It’s nice being able to do whatever you want!

Yesterday, I had the delightful pleasure of being a guest on #scriptchat’s professional reader’s panel, on Twitter, and my fingers have only just cooled down from all that speed typing!! It was amazing how many questions everyone had and how fast they all came! What an amazingly inquisitive bunch of writers!!

I found that the scriptchatters had a lot of similar questions. These were the most common. What do professional readers look for in a script? How many pages in before I know I want to pass? Why is working with a professional important? / What should I expect to get out of my coverage experience?  I figured I would take the time now, to answer those three questions again in a little more detail than the 140 characters Twitter afforded me. Here are my answers:

Q: What do I look for in a script?: This question could be both literal and metaphorical, so here’s both answers. I check to make sure that the script is properly formatted, that the font is correct, that the cover page appears professional –all sorts of critical minutia. After my “white glove” inspection, I start reading. While I am reading, I look for concise, breezily written action passages. I look for fully realized characters. I look for a complete story filled with appropriate structure and act breaks. And finally, I look for typos.

Q: How many pages in before I know I want to pass?: I know on page one, if this is going to be a script that I will be engaged by or one that is going to be an uphill battle. I’ve read enough scripts in my career to know which writers will tell a compelling story and which ones won’t. Very rarely am I surprised past page 1. But when I am that’s great! That’s why I keep reading.

Q: Why is working with a professional important? / What should I expect to get out of my coverage experience? A story analyst much like a personal trainer or a therapist, is there to tell you what to do to get you healthy, not do the work for you. Why you want a story analyst, is exactly why you want a trainer or a therapist; you have things that are bothering you and you need some help fixing them. Your reader will ideally provide you timely, unbiased notes, which are constructive, a path to resolve whatever problems are found, and an open line of communication to discuss everything. While you might get a lot of those things with a friend, a friend isn’t a pro… unless your friend is a pro and then by all means, enslave them. However, if you are not friends with a professional story analyst, it’s wise to seek out help before you start submitting. A pro will be able to spot industry standards that your friends might overlook. Also, friends and family tend to love or hate whatever you write simply because you wrote it. And while that loyalty is super adorable, a pro is going to tell you like it is, always. And isn’t that really why you’re there to being with?

Ultimately I feel like a reader / writer relationship is one based on trust. Like any therapist or trainer, a reader is privy to the writer’s deepest, most personal feelings of self-consciousness and with that comes great responsibility for your pro. You and your reader should agree to the terms prior to starting to read. You should know exactly what services you’re getting and make sure that your needs are met. If you don’t want a synopsis but they’re included, speak up. If you need your script expedited, speak up. The clearer you are with your needs, the easier it is to have them met.

Should you ever have an issue with your reader, which shouldn’t ever happen since you took such care in selecting them, you should be able to explain your point of view, and allow the reader to work with you to find some sort of solution. We’re writers too, for the most part. We understand how tough it is to get notes. It’s exhausting, but it’s a necessary part of a writer’s growth. So, figure it all out in advance, go into it with an open heart, hear what the reader has to say, and work on a plan of attack together. That’s the best way to make the most of your time with your story analyst.

One of the other panelists from #scriptchat was Merrel Davis, my story analyst. He has the tough job of keeping my writing on the straight and narrow and making sure that I don’t get testy while hearing his notes. Hey, it’s a tough gig, but someone has to do it! He and I have shared clients in the past, someone comes to me and him at the same time, gets two sets of notes, but no way to reconcile them. Merrel and I thought, like so much an infomercial, that there had to be a better way!

I’m so thrilled to announce that I will be partnering up with Merrel Davis, my good friend and colleague, to bring a REVOLUTIONARY NEW SERVICE TO YOU! We’re calling it: “DOUBLE FEATURE.”

We offer two professional story analysts working on your project, at the same time, and then collaborating together to help you get the most out of your development experience. We plan to offer this amazing service to both screenwriters and novelists of every genre. This service is the first of its kind. There are NO OTHER SERVICES QUITE LIKE IT.

Merrel and I share a passion for story development and a keen eye in which to help writers push through to reach their goals. I chose Merrel to partner with for this project, because we share the belief that it’s essential for writers to trust their story analysts, be able to get what they need in order to grow, and he has the same no-nonsense approach that I look for when I hire a reader to review my work. I felt, without question, he was the right person to bring on board.

So, Merrel welcome to CoverMyScript.com! And to all of you, please check out the #scriptchat transcript for the other panelist’s answers. And  I can’t wait to see you, at the “Double Feature.”

Getting Started in Screenwriting with Xandy Sussan

(Reprinted with permission from AllFreelanceWriting.com)

Today in our “Getting Started” series, screenwriter / television writer Xandy Sussan stops by to talk to us about screenwriting. Whether you’re looking for a way to freelance in fiction or you simply want to pursue a screenplay or teleplay as a creative side project, there are some things you should know before jumping in.

Here’s what Sussan had to say:

On How She Started in Screenwriting / Writing for Television …

“I had a day job working for the story editor / producer on an animated series as his writer’s assistant. As soon as I found out there were freelance slots open, I went in with 10 premises and pitched to him. I sold three in the room, wrote them, and got into the Writer’s Guild. It seems so simple when I read how it happened to me, but those three sentences took 5 years of plugging away, working for pennies on the dollar, skimping and starving to achieve my goal. But, ultimately, I did and when I saw my name up there, when I held my WGA card in my hand, it was all totally worth it. “

On Needing Specialized Education or Experience Before Starting…

“I went to NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts’ Dramatic Writing Program, and I graduated with a dual BFA in Television and Screenwriting. When I first graduated from NYU, it seemed like that was enough. “Oh, she must be great, she went to NYU…” but it turned out that where I went to school was really of little relevance. NYU had me believing that “they” (the producers of the world) were handing out sit-coms at LAX to every New York transplant. That just wasn’t true.

While being an NYU grad helped people recognize I had some worth and an excellent education, the only thing that really mattered, as far as my screenwriting was concerned, was what was on the page. And if my samples weren’t impressive, the door was closed to me.

The only education that really helped me progress was doing. By producing an indie film in 1999, I learned I knew nothing. I didn’t know my ass from my elbow, but when you’re in charge of a 20 person crew and they’re all looking to you for the answers, you learn on the job. Screenwriting is the same. You don’t get to be a better writer by only doing it once. It takes years to develop a voice, a style, a concise and inventive way to tell a story that is both marketable and innovative. That comes with practice.”

On How Writers can get Started in Screenwriting & Writing for Television…

“How I started was a total accident and something that couldn’t be repeated again one in a thousand times in a lab. I moved to LA from NYC with $2500, a dog and two suitcases, and didn’t realize that my plan for Hollywood greatness was completely filled with flaws. I had no plan, which was the problem. I had three contacts, some basic street smarts and an NYU Screenwriting BFA. It didn’t occur to me I would need more, not being the progeny of a well-connected picture family. But I did.

I had many weird jobs; I sold shoes, was a phone psychic (I was actually pretty good), and then I got a production job as a receptionist on a television series. I met a writer’s assistant who told me that she temped when things were slow. She gave me the name of her temp lady. The show was cancelled two weeks later and three weeks after that I was temping at Saban Entertainment. I got my first “writing” job there, writing kids’ jokes for a game they were marketing. I was paid $500 for 1000 jokes, that plus my salary. I felt like a millionaire.

I went on to temp for a brief time at Universal in marketing, but they weren’t quite about me. I then went to Warner Bros. TV Animation to fill in because a writer’s assistant had become a writer and they needed someone who could “type under pressure.” My one week assignment turned into the start of my career. I got an agent while working at Warner Bros, I got a writing partner, I got many opportunities to pitch and be mentored, and when the time was right, I got my first job. But it was, what I like to call “a confluence of positivity;” a fancy way of saying “right place at the right time.”

But if I were to do it over again, I’d probably do it the same. I’m not a good planner. I’m sort of “It’ll work out” kind of gal, a fly by the seat of her pants life adventurer. If you are looking to not live every moment on the edge and want something more stable, then I would think things through. You have to make a living to support your writing habit. It’s going to take a while for you to break in and start making money, if you ever even get to. So, figure out what you can do and do it, all while plugging away to make sure you achieve your dream. Tenacity is the biggest hurdle for the new LA screenwriter. If you can keep going, even through the lean times, and still have to tell stories just to scratch that burning itch to communicate, then you’ll make it.”

On Things Prospective Screenwriters & TV Writers Should Know…

“You are you and you’re not anyone else. I know that sounds like “high talk” but it’s serious. Wanting to be a Hollywood screenwriter means that you no longer can measure your life based on someone else’s yardstick. I don’t care about your mother’s friend’s daughter Susie who is a lawyer now, with 2.5 kids, a house with a yard and is making $150 K a year. Susie isn’t a screenwriter. Her life’s achievements are ticked off differently than ours. My parents can’t understand why it’s still so hard for me to get work, when I’ve already been produced. I explain to them, it’s not for lack of effort. I do something everyone in the world wants to do and thinks they can do better. If I had put this much effort into being a NASA scientist, I’d have colonized Mars by now. But there’s only so many shows, and there are so many writers, writers better than me, writers worse than me, writers better connected than me. You’re most likely not always going to get the job. When you get the job it’s great. You need to decide what matters to you, find your own path and get it done. It’s not a lifestyle for everyone, but if it’s for you, then you can’t care what other people think. Just do your best writing every day, strive to improve, never give up and you’ve already succeeded.

Also, I did learn that all the best networking in the world isn’t going to make money come through the door, if your script isn’t spectacular. I feel the work is the most important thing. Do no write checks your ass can’t cash. You can’t talk yourself up as the greatest screenwriting talent in the world and not have a single sample to show someone. You should have a sample in every genre, because people are weird and they might need to see something specific. For example, my portfolio has some multi-purpose specs, but I wrote one for almost every hit show (Entourage, Two and a Half Men, My Name is Earl, Drawn Together, The Office) my first sample was a Mad About You. I found it recently when I moved. I cringed fearing it was terrible, but it was typo free and showed promise! I was pleased. It read like them and that felt good. So, just keep in mind that while you might love Entourage and your Entourage spec, someone needing a sample might hate Entourage, but love Drawn Together, so best to be prepared. Oh, a little tip, a 22-minute adult animated spec can count for two, both a half hour sample and an animation sample. Getting double out of your spec buck, is a good thing. You only get one chance to make a good first impression, do that by actually having a script ready, better yet a library, so whomever you deal with knows you’re serious and have the capacity to churn out the pages. Make sure it’s not only excellent, but it’s polished, professional and as typo free as humanly possible.”

My sister, Spenser, and I go on the same highly anticipated adventure every time we’re together. We drive from our parents’ home in Connecticut into Manhattan for a quick, food hit-and-run on Original Ray’s on 9^th between 23^rd and 22^nd and then on to Billy’s Bakery, half a block away between 22^nd and 21^st. It’s my favorite two blocks in Manhattan, next to Zabars and H&H. Mmm. Delicious! The drive usually takes us one hour and forty five minutes roundtrip to complete and then there’s forty five more minutes of scarfing pizza and cupcakes while we giggle. We are on a mission, specific solely unto us, which can only be satisfactorily concluded with that first bite of pizza and end with the last moist bite of a chocolate cupcake with vanilla frosting.

Like Peewee and his bike, Citizen Kane and his Rosebud, Lt. Aldo Raine and his Nazi scalps, Spenser and I wanted something so much that it prompted us to act just to get it. That slice and cupcake, in the movie of our cross-state adventure, is our MacGuffin: the “thing” we seek.

A MacGuffin, plainly and simply is everything and nothing at the same time. It is the object of your character’s desire; it’s the thing that drives him and forces him to act. It is the carrot at the end of your plot’s stick. It is an excellent character motivator and every movie has one, regardless of genre. Some movies have a tangible thing, like Harold and Kumar’s White Castle, while others can be intangible, like Dorothy wanting to “go home.” While she’s not yearning for a “thing,” she’s yearning for “something” and that’s enough to motivate her to act.

The term MacGuffin was coined by Alfred Hitchcock while working on Notorious. The spies were originally going to be hunting diamonds, but then Hitchcock decided Uranium would work better. The thing about MacGuffins is that even though there’s a huge difference between diamonds and Uranium, there’s really no difference at all. Hitchcock recognized that all that needed to remain constant was the characters’ desire to obtain the “thing” not what the “thing” is. The “thing” itself is really just a random thing. Sam Spade had his Maltese Falcon, The Terminator has John Connor, Neo has his whatever The Matrix is about. Everyone wants something different. What they want doesn’t matter, just that they want something does.  It’s really a spectacular revelation when you think about it.

Hitchcock dubbed this concept a “MacGuffin” after a joke: Two Scotts are on a train. One points to the other’s case. “What’s in the case?” “It’s a MacGuffin. It’s an apparatus used to trap lions on the Scottish Highlands.” “But there are no lions on the Scottish Highlands.” “Well, then sir, that is no MacGuffin.” And that’s it. A MacGuffin was born.

According to Hitchcock, a MacGuffin can really be as varied as the character. My cupcake, is one spy’s papers is another thief’s diamond necklace. But what that “thing” is, isn’t important. What is important is the character’s desire to possess that “thing.” Because it is desire that drives us as people, and it is desire that makes for relatable and accessible characters.

It is this desire that will prompt a cross-state adventure to satisfy a food craving, but it is also this desire that puts your character on their journey to self discovery. The MacGuffin gives your character something to focus on, to strive for, to be pushed to the limit to have. It is through this process that your character will develop and ultimately grow as a result of participation. The MacGuffin is such an integral piece of all writing, fiction and non, because it is a comment on the human condition. Everyone wants something… that “thing” that they want, isn’t important. Their hunger for it is everything.

Just because your character is on a quest for some “thing,” it is really how he gets it and if he gets it that is important. So while it might be of the highest importance to eat that slice and cupcake, it’s the getting there, and the trip with Spenser that makes the movie exciting. It is the minutia of what happens to us in the car ride that makes the movie special.

Whereas the object of your character’s desire can be as varied as the landscape in which you create it, the one thing that will always remain constant is that the MacGuffin is the most important thing to your character. It is this unabashed love of something that drives your character to act, to journey, to grow. So no matter if it’s a waffle or a sports car, whatever the “thing” your character wants, should inform their choices to obtain it.

The MacGuffin also allows you to show a little bit of character in a fun and clever way. The Dude’s attachment to a small throw rug in his living room is odd. It was weirdly sized, awkwardly placed and grungy. It was something of little consequence to basically everyone in the world; everyone in the world but The Dude.

You see, if The Dude hadn’t so seriously wanted his rug back, he might never have met The Big Lebowski, nor been sucked into the caper of The Missing Bunny Lebowski. It was his desire for his rug’s safe return that lead him to Maude, it was the rug that led him to the Nihilists. If Jackie Treehorn’s porno-actor thug hadn’t micturated upon the rug “that really tied the room together,” The Dude might not have realized how important this item was to him. He might have done his bowling Thai Chi over it for 10 more years as it gathered dust, unnoticed below him. But it was the loss of this rug, the ever present desire to reclaim it that forced him to realize how important it really was to him. That this rug didn’t just “really tie the room together,” it really made him whole, it defined him.

So, when you’re crafting your character think about what they want. By giving them a MacGuffin, you’re giving them something that explains something about their personality while also giving them a built in goal. The item itself is immaterial, as it can be anything. But what makes it so exciting and so mysterious, is that while it’s so important, it’s really of little consequence. Ascribe them something strange and different, make the object a poignant character point rather than some throw away. Use your MacGuffin to center your journey around, and let it inform your character’s choices.

I believe that when you employ an interesting MacGuffin, you’ll find the same satisfaction I find in my slice and cupcake, as your character will find in their adventurous expedition to get the “thing” they’re after. It is in the hunting for that “thing,” the lusting for that “thing,” the obtaining of that “thing” that your character will find their happiness. It is in the adventure to get the “thing,” their MacGuffin that will actually force your character to grow.

When I was 8, my step-mother, concerned that the 10 hours a day of television I was consuming was probably too many, made a declaration: only 8 hours a day. That meant that I had to choose what to watch, not just watch everything that was on! Well, Godbless her for trying, but it didn’t work. I grew up to be a TV writing TV junkie.

Yes folks, I write television and I watch television and that’s how it should be. Writers should know what is out there, what works, what shows are thriving and why. Also, I haven’t ever had a pitch meeting that didn’t start with “What are you watching, Xandy?” I’m never at a loss for an answer and it always works as an easy ice breaker. When you watch or know something about everything on TV, chances are, you’re watching one show the development exec is watching.

I didn’t watch TV as much as I consumed it, like every book I read (1000’s), and from every episode of Love Boat I watched, I learned a little something about story structure and character development. It’s surprising but true. Think of it as an apprenticeship; TV taught me to write. But, TV was totally in charge; telling me what to watch and when to watch it. Then I discovered that my beloved Tivo was in cahoots with TV; pushing me around telling me stuff was being deleted and that I had to hurry up and watch. I had become a slave to my truest love, and I was growing to resent it.

I, the ambassador to TV Junkie Town, decided I was fed up with how television was treating me…  So I started an experiment; can a TV Junkie not actually watch a television and still view all of their favorite and new shows on the internet? And to begin this 2 month journey I took an unthinkable step. I canceled cable.

How is life without TV during Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years? Strangely adequate. Granted, I didn’t get my local programming, or Thanksgiving Day parade, but it turns out, the internet rocks! Who knew?! Everything I ever wanted to see and more from official youtube channels to network websites, is up, available and ready for my compulsive viewing pleasure.

How does this saucy writer fill her internet TV Days? Here’s what I’m watching:

Peep Show

No, it’s not dirty, it’s the best British comedy you’re likely not watching. It’s an “Odd Couple” show with quirky POV camera work and Voice Over. Mark and Jeremy are best mates from college who are still sharing a London flat well into their 30’s and while Mark is stiff, uptight and generally a rule follower, Jeremy is the total opposite: a rock god in his own mind. This comedy is dark, hilarious and altogether the best show you’re probably not watching. Peep Show “I fucking love you!”

Hell’s Kitchen

I love Hell’s Kitchen. Gordo is so totally my boyfriend. He’s only got about 60 shows currently on all over the world so, so between Fox and BBC, they’ve got me covered on all the streaming screaming from his hot kitchens and it’s so wonderful. I have also been able to catch some Kitchen Nightmares, The F Word and some hour-long Cookalong Live deal. Oh Gordo, I just can’t get enough of your furrowed brow, and thanks to the internet, I can order you up for delivery. Ahh,  instant gratification tastes so good.

South Park

Okay, I have a lot of boyfriends. I love Trey Parker too. I told you I’m a junkie; I get around. Truthfully, South Park is simply just excellent TV. Trey Parker knocks out those scripts in a week, then they have like three minutes before it has to air to animate it. I am impressed with what they have accomplished and I revere him as a screenwriter. His episodes are not only topical and timely but also brilliantly well written. At South Park Studios, you can watch all of the new episodes as well as any from the prior 14 seasons. There’s nothing better than going down to South Park, to have myself a time. And now I can do it from anywhere. It’s awesome.

Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace

The series’ fictional premise: in the 1980s, best-selling horror author Garth Marenghi and his publisher/publicist, Dean Learner, made their own low-budget television series. It was bad, really bad. If you like incredibly quirky and meta shows, check it, Dark Place “from your bean bag chair, if that’s how you choose to live your life,” and watch “the greatest televisual event since Quantum Leap” and I don’t say that lightly.

The Tonight Show

I mentioned that it’s hard sometimes with current events to watch as things are airing live, and that’s true but I managed to see Conan’s last show before it aired in LA. The second the east coast airing was done, Gawker.tv had it up and ready for streaming. The quality was excellent and it was segmented so I could jump around. It wasn’t live, but even if I still had TV, I probably would’ve watched it when I got up or a day later anyway, so this totally worked out. Now the full last episode is up on Hulu.com, where you can watch it in its entirety.

In terms of animation, I’m watching all the same stuff I was watching before, Family Guy, The Simpsons, The Cleveland Show, American Dad except I’m now watching them all on Hulu.com. There’s a couple of commercials but nothing egregious, the video quality is excellent and they have the current 5 episodes up there at all times. Some older shows have more. It’s not the greatest, if I want to see something old, but between Hulu.com and AdultSwim.com, they got me covered.

Adult Swim also has their entire Sunday Night Stoner Lineup online for viewing. Metalocolypse, The Venture Brothers, Robot Chicken. They’re all on there, as well as King of the Hill if you’re looking for gentle bedtime programming.

For a blast from the past, I decided to watch all of the Night Gallery episodes. There’s four seasons up on Hulu, but they’re mostly terrible. Rod Serling is my hero and my God and I have to support his work, even if most of it is dreadful. But it’s campy and sometimes cool, so check them out. I also watched all of The Twilight Zone episodes available, but they’re limited on CBS.com. I’ve seen them all 1000 times, but I still love to hear Burgess Meredith scream “But there was time now!”

Just so I don’t loose touch with my reality TV series, I watch The Soup. Joel McHale gives me the best 22 minutes of gut-busting laughter ever. The only bad part of the show is when it’s over. The player is a little buggy, but the show is so funny, it’s totally worth any hassle.

So, here I am, three months with no cable and I have to say, I don’t miss it. I feel satisfied that I’m watching everything I want to be watching and anything I forget about, I’m probably not missing anyway.

Sometimes it’s boring watching movie after movie, and being online doesn’t give off the same energy as watching TV. TV has a repetitive rhythm that I have come to find soothing after all these years, but with all of my favorite series up online, plus a dirth of other video entertainment consumables, there’s enough going on to keep my eyeballs busy until eternity.

Why buy the cow, when you can get the milk for free? So long, cable!

Recently, I was interviewed on getting started screenwriting in Hollywood at All Freelance Writing.com. Here is a link to the article where I candidly share how I got my start and helpful tips on how to get started yourself. I sincerely hope you enjoy and find this interview resourceful and a fun read.

It’s 1975 and I’m standing in a room filled with high-level creative executives, pitching what I think is an excellent television series. It’s got something for everybody: music, adventure, comedy, action and it’s high concept! Here’s my pitch: It’s an animated comedy / action / adventure series (with an emphasis on comedy) for kids 8-11, about a group of amateur, teenaged detectives who solve crimes, while traveling in a band, on tour, in the future, under water, and their sidekick is a talking shark that sounds like Curly from The Three Stooges. I pause for a moment and let it all sink in. My genius never more apparent to these awestruck executives.

Guess what? It’s a sale! A total greenlight. And since it’s got a little bit of everything, my 22-minute underwater hijinks, mystery and music romp appeals to even the finickiest 8-11 year old demographic. Indeed, fun will be had as they eat their Saturday morning bowl of Lucky Charms.

Would you believe that such an idea would speak to modern audiences and generations to come with its busy, eclectic and broad comedic plots? It did. In fact it was not me pitching this little golden nugget, but rather it was Ruby and Spears for Hannah-Barbera’s Jabberjaw; my favorite “Kitchen Sink Show,” nuk nuk nuk.

Everyone knows the phrase “everything, but the kitchen sink.” Well, in television there are programs that are everything and the kitchen sink. A “Kitchen Sink Show” is a series concept that is so broad that it encompasses every plot and any idea the creators can think of to fill the allotted time.

Take your most basic of plots, (teenagers solving crime), tack on a suspiciously large laundry list of unnecessary, yet bizarrely colorful elements (in space, in a hot air balloon, in a band, speaks like Don Knotts, on unicycles that talk) and add one more for good measure, (the teenagers are all coconuts) and you’ve got yourself a “Kitchen Sink Show.”

As the sole story analyst for Warner Bros. Animation, I read hundreds of scripts. In the true spirit of the original Hannah-Barbera cartoons, almost every submission I read was a “Kitchen Sink Show.” Somehow, it seemed, each writer was merely lazily throwing in every element, character, and quirky ingredient they could think of in a haphazard manner. I soon came to realize, it wasn’t really laziness, but a loving yet misguided homage to the “Kitchen Sink Show” of yesteryear.

The “Kitchen Sink Show” emerged to satisfy two basic market needs: 1) Staying current with modern children’s interests. And; and, 2) Consistently churning out properties, on the cheap, with the least amount of effort.

Regardless of generation, children’s interests generally remain the same and it is this consistency that helps broadcasters choose their programming. They want it to appeal to the greatest number of eyeballs, so, they take an amalgam of “everything kid” and turn it into a show. Kids are into silly comedy. They enjoy action and potential romance, so we have those three elements. Kids also want to see teenagers fighting crime, because it’s aspirational. So, now the characters are detectives. They’re into music, so the show’s heroes are in a band. And then, you add in a funny fourth thing, something quirky to wrap it all up in a seemingly shiny new, if not oddly familiar bow. Et, voilà, you have a “Kitchen Sink Show.”

During the 60’s and 70’s Hannah-Barbera was responsible for an awesome percentage of the on-air children’s Saturday morning programming. They had to think outside of the box and frugally, to get programs to air. Like environmentalists before their time, they knew they must reuse and recycle… character design, concept and premise if they were going to be able to churn out property after property, and the most cost-effective way, is to cannibalize your own properties. They knew, if you paint the kitchen sink, you wind up with a brand new “Kitchen Sink Show!” You go Hannah and Barbera, for being just that clever! It’s a little bit of genius really. They reinvented their properties over and over again, twisting minor details, changing locations, shrewdly disguising that it really was just the same “Kitchen Sink Show,” swaddled in new clothing. And they made a fortune doing it.

Speed Buggy was a show about a group of teenaged detectives, who look alarmingly and suspiciously, exactly like a certain gang from Scooby Doo. They drive around in a busted car, fighting evil forces, solving crime, and the Jalopy transforms into a magical talking race car that can help the kids accomplish their crime solving goals. It’s basically Scooby Doo only sub a talking car for a talking dog, and Hannah-Barbera didn’t even bother to really adjust the character design. They just added a few extra elements to freshen it up.

Today, if you gather a room full of old time animators, they’ll tell you about the grand old days of animation. It was a golden era, where the cartoons were classic. Understand me, I am not advocating that you, as a writer, go and write a “Kitchen Sink Show” and try to pitch it. “Kitchen Sink Shows” are mostly terrible. But they are also a significant piece of television history and are revered for their nostalgic charm. While today, a series like Captain Caveman probably would be incarnated as a poorly dubbed Japanese import, its charm, its personality and the peaceful simplistic story telling would be lost to flashing lights, obnoxious dialogue and bad design.

Where it used to simply take moxie to break into animation, now it requires a team of assassin-like agents, a library to rival Shakespeare’s, a high-concept premise, and Carl Lewis’ track record just to get a meeting. And the saddest part is, that for sentimentality, the “Kitchen Sink Show” is no more.

But it’s funny, after listing what it takes to break into animation writing, I realized I just created my own “Kitchen Sink Show.” It’s called Xandy and the Screenwriting Squad. It’s a futuristic romp, where a modern screenwriter goes back in time to the animation heyday. Armed with my library rivaling Shakespeare’s, my team of assassin-like agents, my moxie, my all-girl rock band (made up of said agents), plus my ability to run track like a god. We write cartoons and solve minor yet eccentrically complex crimes, while running super fast, and then celebrate with a song and a shared chuckle as the episode ends. What do you think? Greenlight? Nuk, nuk, nuk.

With contributions by Merrel Davis (www.merreldavis.com)