By Ken Levine

Getting your spec read

Now that you’ve finished your bulletproof spec, how do you get someone to read it? Not easy. But here are some suggestions (while you’re also writing your next spec which will be even more bulletproof):

Be resourceful not obnoxious.

The WGA has a list of agencies. Some will read new material. Get this list and send your script to EVERY agency that remotely is willing to read it.

Managers are “in” these days too. Not sure if there’s a list of reputable ones but contact any manager that will read your script without asking you to take off your clothes.

Beyond that, it’s luck and networking. If you have a friend of a friend whose second cousin is a proctologist who once removed a story editor’s hemorrhoid, contact him and send him a pillow.

Learn who the story editors, staff writers, and producers are of each show. Write letters to a few, schmoozing. Look up their credits on imdb. Ignore if it says they were Location Manager on DANTE’S PEAK. Lower level writers tend not to receive many fan letters. Establish relationships.

Utilize college connections. Make up college connections. The same applies for summer camp, fraternities, sororities, military service, prison terms.

I wish I had the time to read your scripts myself but unfortunately I don’t. Sorry about that.

It helps if you’re in LA. Get tickets to see filmings of multi-camera shows. The writing staff is always on the floor and always introduced. Go to the rail and introduce yourself. Again, it helps to do your homework on just who these writers are. And don’t bother them when Debra Messing is having a meltdown.

Be persistent not an noodge.

If you can become a P.A. for a show, that’s great. A writers assistant – even better. Anything to get your foot in the door.

Take UCLA or USC extension classes. The teachers are all pros. One of them might be your way in. Working writers guest lecture. Find out who and when and where and be there.

Be dogged not insufferable.

Go to Westside gyms. Agents are low hanging fruit in those places.

Always keep a copy of your script in your car. You never know when you’re going to meet somebody who can help you.

And finally, there’s the obvious but I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s like the old joke: Did you hear about the Polish actress who tried to get ahead by fucking writers?

Here’s how David and I were discovered. My mother played golf one day with a story editor of the JEFFERSONS. She told him her son was a writer and he graciously said have him contact me and send a script. I did, he responded to it, invited us in to pitch, we sold a story, and the rest, as they say, is profit.

No two writers I know broke in the same way, but they all wrote specs and they all somehow got them read. Best of luck to you...and your mom.

King Long

Saw KING KONG last night. On television it will be called SURVIVOR: SKULL ISLAND.

Warning: plot points you already know from the original are revealed.

I was so geeked to see it based on the trailer, reviews, and guarantee that Celine Dion did not sing the title song.

What movie did the reviewers see? It was at least an hour too long. The first hour. Wait for the DVD, skip to “they arrive” and start there, keeping your finger on the ff button at all times. Trust me, by the giant insects you’ll be pressing it as if it were a morphine drip.

We were told this was Peter Jackson’s homage to movies. We weren’t told it was his homage to all of them.

Some of the special effects were excellent. Others looked like PEE WEE’S BIG ADVENTURE.

The gorilla had more expressions than Jack Black.

Naomi Watts was good in a very thankless role. A beautiful blonde always in peril, tossed around like a rag doll for two hours – it was like O.J.’s ultimate masturbatory dream.

Great dialogue: “It was beauty that killed the beast”.

The big finale sequence takes place in New York on a snowy night. Kong is on Broadway. Ethel Merman will doubtless step in when the show goes on tour. Kong breaks free, kills many theatre goers (since it was opening night we can only hope he whacked a few critics), and storms out into Times Square. Naomi Watts appears, fortifying herself against the bitter cold with a sheer white gown and heels. Okay, I buy that because in moments she’s wrapped in the world’s biggest fur. From there it’s on to the Empire State building where fortunately Tom Hanks is not rendezvousing with Meg Ryan. The planes come, he dies, and you think “three fucking hours for THIS??” At least let him fight Godzilla or Rocky Balboa.

Wait for cable. Or ipod.

And please, I pray that Ang Lee’s favorite movie growing up wasn’t MIGHT JOE YOUNG.

My tele-PLAY

Aloha again. If you send me email I always try to respond. However, here in Hawaii I'm having a devil of a time reaching anyone on AOL. Doesn't the "A" stand for America? Anyway, I'll get to you. Promise.

After having gone to New York three times to get shows either on the air or renewed during the Upfronts process I thought “this is INSANITY and there’s a play in this”. So I wrote UPFRONTS AND PERSONAL. It follows one studio’s attempt to get two shows on a network’s fall schedule. I had a reading of the play last summer in LA with Jason Alexander, Wendie Malick, Ed Asner, Kurtwood Smith, Jennifer Tilly, Patrick Breen, and Matt Letscher and it went very well. I’m currently looking for backers (hint hint). Thought you might enjoy a preview and glimpse of what that process is really like.

The set up: A hotel suite a studio is using as its war room. Very early in the play. Donald is the studio president (Ed Asner), Andy his officious veep (Patrick Breen). Matthew has just arrived (Matt Letscher). He’s the young wide-eyed neophyte writer. Later Gary and Beth will enter. (Jason Alexander & Wendie Malick). They’ve been through the wars.

MATTHEW
Hey, let me ask you -- why do they call this process the "Up Fronts"?

DONALD
The networks announce their new Fall schedules then the advertisers buy commercial time "up front". Spending billions on nothing more that blind faith. It's like if you put an Off-track betting window in a mental institution.

MATTHEW
Well, I appreciate your letting me do this.

DONALD
Hey, you made a helluva pilot. You should be here to defend it. Take a fruit basket. Take four of 'em.

MATTHEW
Thanks.
(crossing to the window)
So...let's check out the view.
(he sees it, disappointed)
Oh.

ANDY
We usually have a higher suite but apparently Queen Latifa is in town and she has dogs, and the dogs need to see the sky for some reason we haven't been told so...well, here we are.

DONALD
Feel free to take a dump on the carpet. Fuck 'em.

MATTHEW
Well, there's always the Empire State Building.

ANDY
First time in New York?

MATTHEW
Are you kidding? Never been out of So-Cal. This is totally unreal. Three years ago I'm working at Kinkos writing scripts at night. And now here I am with my own TV show.

(DONALD takes a big gulp of HIS drink. There's a KNOCK at the door. As ANDY crosses to answer:)

ANDY
Come on. It's refreshing. You know what happens to writers after a couple of years.

(ANDY opens the door. GARY NOGLE and BETH HELLER enter. Both are in their 40's. GARY is wiry, always a little revved. BETH is taller than GARY, attractive, bright, and seemingly very much in command. GARY is schlepping a large heavy garment bag.)

GARY
I mean it, Beth. I can't do this anymore. I walked by that idiot in front of the hotel, y'know, the one wearing the big Beefeaters costume and I thought to myself: "Oh my God, I envy that man. I wish I had his job." A Beefeater, Beth! With the hat, and the stick, and the little tights, and...that's when you know it's time to get out.

BETH
So why did you come?

GARY
Why do you think? I had to. If we're going to get our damn show renewed they've got to see I'm committed to the fucking thing one hundred percent.

DONALD
That's what you want -- Talented and trapped.

You're only as good as your worst credit

Hello from Hawaii.

According to imdb.com I was the location manager on DANTE’S PEAK. This is news to me. I didn’t even see DANTE’S PEAK. Yet imdb has it listed and my agent is still pressing me for his commission. Nor was I the Environmental Production Advisor on FLIPPER although I was brought in to punch up his dialogue, and I was not the Location Manager on JURASSIC PARK even though I still write off Hawaiian trips and use Spielberg as a reference. I don’t know where imdb gets this information (I suspect my mother) but I’ve tried several times to get them to correct it but they won’t. So now when I get calls from other Location Managers (which I do) I just recommend our backyard for whatever they need. I’ve made a tidy sum on production rentals.

Worse are some credits they list that ARE true. How many directing assignments have I missed out on because potential employers saw I did multiple episodes of ASK HARRIET? Someone once said you’re only as good as your worst credit. We have shared credit on MANNEQUIN 2 for godsakes!

And then there are the credits imdb omitted that I am proud of. David and I created and produced a show on CBS in ’93 called BIG WAVE DAVE’S starring Adam Arkin. (Cancelled because they had to make room for the Faye Dunaway comedy and the Peter Scolari comedy. No, I’m not bitter). We wrote on the TRACEY ULLMAN SHOW, the TORTELLIS (okay, they were kind to skip that one), and we wrote and “guest starred” in an episode of OPEN ALL NIGHT. Notable because after that we never “guest starred” again.

OPEN ALL NIGHT was created by Tom Patchett & Jay Tarses (who did the BOB NEWHART SHOW and BUFFALO BILL). They asked us to write an episode. We saw that Jay was also going to be one of the series regulars so we asked if we could be in the show. They said, “Sure, what do we care?” So we wrote ourselves two fabulous parts. We were Sean & Evan, two swinging lawyers trying to pick up female mud wrestlers at a mace class. Tom & Jay didn’t change a word of our dialogue. All they did was add one little sentence in the stage direction:

THE WOMEN GET TIRED OF THESE GUYS AND FLIP THEM OVER THEIR SHOULDERS.

For the entire week of production we were getting thrown around all over the stage. Landing on our backs, landing on our heads. We were black and blue with multiple concussions. I still have a bruise. Finally, after the dress rehearsal just before the filming, Jay came to us and said, “Uh listen boys, we’re going to cut the stunt”.

Not only do I want to see that credit on imdb, I want it listed first.

Tomorrow: my play about television with an excerpt. Aloha.

Your chances of becoming a writer

Whenever I teach a writing class I always start by saying "there are (let's say) thirty in the class. Two of you will make it." If you hear that and go "Jesus, those are terrible odds. How am I gonna compete with that?" you're dead. However, if you say "Hmmm? Me and who else?" then read on. You've got a chance. And here's the good news: Those odds just went from 15-1 to 3-1.

You have to believe in yourself first if you ever expect anyone else to.

More good news: If you are good you will be recognized. It may take some time but it will happen. Remember, readers WANT to like your script. They're BEGGING to like your script. But the key is to stick with it. Don't rely on one spec. Often times I'll meet young writers who will say "I wrote a great FRIENDS four years ago and can't get an agent." L-O-S-E-R-S. It might take five specs, it might take ten. But all you need is one person somewhere who sparks to your material. And once you're in you're in.

In future posts I'll be giving tips on what I look for in a spec. In the meantime, start writing. You're already beating the odds.

Aloha Oy

It's become a tradition -- now in its second week -- Friday travelogues...reliving the travel adventures of the Levines which up until now have been reserved for my emailing list and my delusional hope of becoming a book. Since we're heading to Hawaii today I thought I'd share a past Hawaiian vacation from a couple of years ago.

Note one: Internet access providing I will continue to post. And note two: cast of characters -- Debby (wife), Matt (early 20's), and Annie (late teens). Mahalo for reading.

Aloha and howzit?

After a year's interruption (to rid ourselves of mold and my life savings) the Levines returned again to Hawaii. This year to the Grand Wailea on Maui. Picture Heart's Castle with water slides and a grotto bar. As usual it was glorious. NFL games start at 8 in the morning over there!!!

Paris and Nicky Hilton were staying at our hotel. I guess among the many amenities the Grand Wailea offers is a meth lab. (Sure an improvement over Fiona Apple at the Kahala. We got the better anoerexics.) The Four Seasons next door usually has the big Hollywood crowd. Maybe they didn't want Paris. After all, she did make that infamous sex tape...and worse, she has a show on Fox.

Our room was 6091 which was easy to remember because every time we went down for a couple of smoothies the bill was $60.91.

Their signature restaurant is Humahumanukunukuapua's (actual name). But people call is Humahumanhukunu's for short. Lobster was $59 a pound (again, this is true). They should change the name to Hubrishubrishubrishubrischutzpah.

I forgot to ask Paris how much Maui Wowie was these days.

Cabanas were $125 a day and there was a waiting list. But for that money they brought around free fruit and water so it was a bargain. We opted for cosabellas which are lounge chairs with a hood. $40 and a half hour wait in line to sign up. There's a rumor that at the Four Seasons the lines start forming at 4:30 a.m. All the nannies and assistants have to really get up early over there.

Nothing more relaxing than turning on the TV and seeing there's a heightened Terror Alert. Yeah, like who would ever want to attack Hawaii?

One of the many great things about this paradise -- you never hear Paul McCartney's inane "Having a Wonderful Christmas" on the radio. Instead they play Paul Anka's "Christmas in Japan".

Although McCartney was represented. At the art gallery in the next door high end fashion mall a big sign boasts an exhibition of paintings from Paul McCartney, Tony Bennett...and then in much smaller letters, Picasso.

Monday morning Santa Claus arrived on a long canoe bearing candy canes for the kids. He was clad only in a traditional cap and red skirt. The children were confused. Not like any Santa they had ever seen. What I didn't realize until that day was how many tattoos Santa had. Or how scary his heavily-tattooed Samoan elf was. You shouldn't be thinking about the Terror Alert when Santa arrives on shore.

We spent a lot of time with Jeff Nelson and his family. Jeff is a pitcher for the New York Yankees and we were together in Seattle in the early 90's. He's a rarity. A multi-million dollar ballplayer who actually spends time with his family. Four young daughters and no nannies, no baby-sitters -- just him and his wife Colette.

Contrast this with Eric Chavez. The Oakland A player who was also at our digs. Supposedly, his agent, Scott Boros, who was in the middle of trying to make the big Alex Rodriguez blockbuster trade to Boston had to take time out to call the Grand Wailea and request a cabana for Eric. To the hotel's credit they said no. (To the Red Sox credit they said no, too.)

My son goes to Tufts and has become a big Red Sox fan. Proudly wearing his Red Sox cap. However, when Jeff arrived Matt was reluctant to wear it -- Jeff's pending assault charges in Boston and all. So he ran out to the Gap and got a $4 hat that said "Est. 1969". I told him if anyone should ask what "Est. 1969" meant just say that was the year "Tiny Bubbles" was adopted as the official state song of Hawaii.

Truth is, Jeff could care less. Seriously, he's the sweetest guy in the world (I'm happy to be a character witness) and by Thursday Matt was back to wearing his beloved Red Sox cap. Even took pictures with Jeff while wearing it.

I wanted a picture with me and Paris Hilton where she was wearing nothing but that hat.

Her bodyguard was spotted at the pool Wednesday getting a pedicure. Even during this high Terror Alert.

Spotted on Christmas Eve day, a woman wearing a T-shirt that read in a Hebrew font: Kiss My Tuchas. Gee, why do they hate us??

It amazes me how many women put on make up to go to the beach. And Botox is very "in" this year. But it is keeping with the Hawaiian spirit since they all look like Jack Lord.

We brought our menorah and lit Chanukah candles. I guess we weren't alone because when I went down to the bar to get matches the waitress said, "Gee, you're like the ninth person to ask for these. Is there a bonfire somewhere?" I said no, it was a fireworks convention. In Hawaii they buy that answer.

The pace on the islands remains blissfully slow. There's a little church on the grounds of the hotel and every morning its chapel bells would ring at 8:10.

Yes, I went down a water slide. Matt took a picture. You will never see it.

This being the busiest season of the year there were lines everywhere...except at the health club. Had no problem getting a treadmaster, no problem finding empty weight machines. The guy selling ice cream dots was mobbed.

Why is it the fatter the person the louder the Hawaiian shirt? Or the bigger the implants the louder the hair dye?

Book of choice at the Grand Wailea was "the Da Vinci Code". At the Four Seasons it was the biography of Lew Wasserman.

They sell jewelry down at the pool. Women with their guts hanging over their bikini bottoms trying on pearls. I have no idea whether they like the stuff or not. Because of the Botox they can't make an expression.

Went twice to Roy's restaurant. Best food on the island and never disappoints. And the view? Spectacular. Roy's is in the parking lot of a shopping center. You know you're in Hawaii when you see the crimson sun set behind the Safeway and the Crazy Shirt Emporium.

Commercial seen during Hawaiian newscast: a new retirement village featuring golf, recreation, pools, and year round sunshine...in Florida.

A Levine Christmas day tradition is to go to a movie. So we ventured into Kihae. First was dinner at Tony Romas where we were the only table to not order a five-pound onion loaf. Then to the cineplex to see "Paycheck". It's McGyver meets Memento. The Hawaiians who sat behind Annie and Matt were completely baffled. Bad enough there was the concept of time travel, they were just thrown because everyone in the movie was wearing long pants.

How Hollywood is Maui these days? There are academy screenings at the Castle Theatre. (No joke) Just show your DGA, WGA, or academy cards at the door.

Matt just turned 21 and loves being carded since he's now legal. There's a swim-up Grotto Bar and he wondered if he'd be carded there (and if so just where do they think he'd keep ID). So as an experiment he and Annie swam up to it, he ordered a White Russian and was served no problem. Annie ordered an Oreo smoothie and the bartender asked "You want any booze in that?" Annie is 17.

Debby had a hot rock massage. That's where the masseuse puts hot relaxing rocks on your back then sits off to the side silently chuckling and reading magazines.

But all in all another spectacular trip. The weather was perfect. And we got out just in time. Beginning today they're predicting four days of torrential downpours. I guess it's God saying to that woman "Kiss MY tuchas!"

Happy holidays and I leave you with this:

A' ohe 'ai pani 'ia o ka 'amo.
(no particular food blocks the anus).

And the winner is...

Congratulations to all my colleagues nominated for Writers Guild Awards. Note to nominees: wear a tuxedo. David Isaacs and I were nominated several times, rented tuxedos and lost. We always noticed there were a few people in dark suits and felt even more like schmucks. So one year when we knew we’d lose we just went the dark suit route. And of course we won. We sheepishly walked up to the podium and David said, “Sorry, we dressed for nomination only”.

Later we took pictures with our presenter, Jimmy Smits. Click click and he was gone. A few minutes later the photographer wanted to take a few more shots. They said Smits had left so the photographer said, “Okay, then never mind.” Jesus, writers get no respect even at the Writers Guild awards.

To put “winning” in perspective, let me share with you what it was like to win an Emmy. The envelope is ripped open, your name is read, you can’t believe it, and you race up to the stage. You stand at the podium.

What’s going through your mind at a monumental moment like this? For me, honestly, I thought of all the assholes I went through basic training with in the army who thought I was such a fuck up. I was hoping they were watching and having heart attacks from shock. I was also aware that everyone in the audience was glaring at me. I saw the red light of the camera, knew that yes, this was my one big moment on national television. But I also knew that if I didn’t get the hell off quick – I mean REAL quick -- millions of people I didn’t know were going to hate my guts.

So I rushed through my prepared speech, thanked my wife, son, and I think Drill Sgt. Miller then was led off.

Backstage, we took photos with your presenters. In our case, Arthur & Kathryn Murray. Who knew they were even still alive? Then we were led from one interview room to the next. National TV, national radio, local press, national press, foreign press, magazines, food product surveys, I dunno. Light bulbs flashing. Questions coming from all sides. Microphones shoved in my face. And after a few minutes we’re ushered into the next room because the next winners are breathing down our necks. We were in a daze. We just went where they told us. Finally we were told to go through “that door”. We did. It closed and locked behind us.

And we found ourselves outside. In the alley. Next to the garbage dump, surrounded by buzzing flies. In our tuxedos, holding our shiny new Emmys. What the fuck?! We banged on the door to get back in. Nothing. We walked along the side of the building, trying other doors. All closed. I thought of maybe using the Emmy to jimmy one of the locks. No dice. It took us fifteen minutes to finally get back into the hall.

Which more than matched the fifteen minutes of fame.

So again, congratulations to the nominees. Wear tuxedos and know your exit strategy.

The Best of the Golden Globes

Oh boy!! The Golden Globes have been announced. Each year for my friends I review the major award shows and the Golden Globes (except last year when I slept through them). So in honor of the nominations I thought I’d take you back to happier times – the 2004 Golden Globes, when Dick Clark was still producing and enjoying the relaxing music of KOST. Before housewives and cowboys were desperate. Before Ziyi Zhang became a star and household name.

It's the lid lifter to the 2004 Awards season, beginning with the show where the awards can be bought -- the Golden Globes. Winners are selected by the "foreign Press" meaning your busboys at Jerry's Deli. To put the Golden Globes in perspective, Pia Zadora won one. Jaimie Lee Curtiss once threw a big brunch at her house for the "Foreign Press" and copped a best actress award.

Sir Laurence Olivier at one time won a Golden Globe which literally broke in his hand during his acceptance speech.

And they are presented at a hotel owned by Merv Griffin and televised tape delayed to Hollywood with Dick Clark as producer. All meals are prepared on a George Foreman grill.

The big incentive for stars to attend is that they do provide dinner. And they can thank the busboys for voting for them.

The big attraction for the audience is that both movies and television are represented. And Charlie Sheen doesn't host (like the People's Choice Awards which is the Golden Globes with Jamie Cromwell as the biggest movie star)

Three weeks ago I was in that same ballroom to attend a gala dinner honoring the Chairman of Fox Television. Two days later he was fired. It's clearly where Hollywood goes to express its sincere gratitude.

Where else can you see Clint Eastwood and the Queer Eye guys considered peers?

Always glad to see Barbra Streisand...when she doesn't have to talk. And I loved her sheepskin gown. Last worn by Sonny Bono in 1965. Notice how they showed Babs on camera fifty times and her husband (a nominee) maybe twice?

Great that Anthony LaPaglia won...on NBC. This is the same network that refused to approve him for the co-starring role in the short-lived comedy, KRISTIN. Judging by the shot of his wife falling out of her dress, he already has two golden globes.

When Francis Conroy is not the most obscure actor to win an award you know you're in trouble.

Other than Rene Zellweger, none of the other Best Supporting Actresses were in movies that played anywhere other than the Laemelle. What a surprise that she won. The FP loves her. She eats out a lot.

When Rene Zellweger actually thanks the guy who makes sure she doesn't lose anything in her purse then you know these people are taking themselves just a tad too seriously.

I was happy THE OFFICE won. So what if 99% of the audience has never heard of it? Just from the ten second clip they deserved to beat the other nominees. WILL & GRACE put its best foot forward with a vagina joke. And ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT made fun of hispanic housekeepers. Considering that's the Foreign Press it's no wonder they lost.

Do seat fillers get to eat the meals of the people they’re substituting for?

Jessica Lange's hair looked like a Monet haystack.

The theme this year was "lessons". Every actor learned a "lesson" from either their director or family or guy who made sure they didn't lose anything in their purse.

Sarah Jessica Parker looked like she was wearing the Liberty Bell. Best Actress in a Comedy? What a list of Lucys. Debra Messing. Bonnie Hunt. Some girl from MONK. Alicia Silverstone. Sarah beat out the best.

I'm sorry Diane Lane lost. Stop blaming her for JUDGE DREDD.

How many times did you scream "Get Off!!!" during actors' acceptance speeches? I stopped counting at ten.

Diane Keaton actually prepared that hideous, rambling, incoherent speech of hers. We get it. You're old.

Best speech -- no wait, ONLY good speech: Bill Murray's.

Glad “24” won. Quite a few people from the show got up to accept. One was a mole. But whom???

Quick: name the winner of the Best Actor in a Television Comedy. Hint: He stars in THE OFFICE. Another hint: Ricky Gervais. Any ideas?

You can't say Eric McCormack was robbed. I forget whether he delivered the vagina joke or it was one of the other over-actors.

Jaimie Lee Curtiss should have hosted a brunch this year. But it's an honor just to be nominated.

Pacino is starting to look like Frank Zappa. And sound like him. What the hell was his speech about? Even he got lost. I was impressed however, that he acknowledged his twins and actually knew their names.

The gowns were by and large simple and elegant. I have one suggestion for Rene Zellweger: sleeves!!

When you watched the Michael Douglas tribute montage didn't you say "God, he's gotten old?" Highlight of the night for me was seeing Karl Malden. I'm happy Michael received that award because as part of his pre nup with Catherine Zeta-Jones if he didn't win the Cecil B. DeMille Award she was entitled to another million dollars of his money when they split.

THE LORD OF THE RINGS TRILOGY did so well I say it's time for a sequel.

Peter Jackson, its director, forgot to thank the talking tree.

Can you imagine if Sofia Coppola had beaten out Peter Weir, Peter Jackson, and Clint Eastwood? Notice how Jackson acknowledged all of his fellow nominees except Coppola? So Coppola and the talking tree both got dissed.

Nicole Kidman looked like Dorothy Provine in THE ROARING 20's. I'm only sorry that Tom Cruise didn't win because I would love to have seen her have to present the award to him.

Afghanistan wins but SIX FEET UNDER loses again.

All five Best Actress nominees were blondes. The foreign press loves that exotic American look.

Charlize Theron won for a great performance. Who knew she could play ugly?

Melanie Griffith has crossed into middle age. Oh...and get a babysitter next year, Mel.

For the eleventh straight awards show Jim Carrey wasn't funny. And for the eleventh straight awards show he thought he killed.

LOST IN TRANSLATION -- Best COMEDY??? Good movie but excuse me, aren't comedies supposed to be funny? I guess when you work the back sink at Jerry's nothing is funny.

Okay....so bring on the real award shows – like SAG and the Patsys!

Jack is Back

Loved the comment by Mik wondering if anybody ever wrote a spec “24”. I can just see the rejection letter:

Thank you for your script “5:00 – 6:00 P.M.” Unfortunately it does not fit our needs. There were a number of choices you made that suggest you’re not really familiar with our show. On page 12 you have Jack eating. No one ever eats. You also refer to take-out cartons strewn all over CTU. For future reference, only agents and approved personnel are given security clearance to CTU, not Domino Pizza boys. We pride ourselves on reality. On page 16 you have Jack saying he needs to use the bathroom. Why not a manicure? We have no time for such frivolous activities.

Pay careful attention to the clock. You have Tony driving out to Simi Valley from headquarters downtown in 52 minutes. Everyone knows, at that hour of the day, it only takes 10 minutes, 13 if there’s heavy traffic.

Not once in your script did you have anyone say, “Just let me do my job!” I almost didn’t recognize it as a “24”.

When Jack calls Michelle and says, “Get me those coordinates now or 10,000,000 people will die!” you don’t need Michelle answering, “I know. I’m not a fucking moron. You told me that three times already!”

When the CTU staff learns that Jack’s daughter Kim has been kidnapped you have them all cheering. I don’t think they would do that. They would merely smile knowingly to each other.

And finally, I didn’t find your jeopardy –- Jack trying to prevent Hurricane Katrina -- plausible. Better to stick with crazed foreigners who bought nuclear weapons on ebay and plan to blow up the world because they couldn’t get a parking space at the Grove. Always think realism!

Thank you again for your submission. Although it is wildly uneven and stretches credibility far beyond what any audience would accept I am forwarding it to PRISON BREAK.

Do not try this at home!

I have read some bad specs in my time and now offer some suggestions of what not to do based on actual scripts I have read…or at least attempted to read.

Don’t view the show from the perspective of a fly. I once read a WINGS spec as seen by a buzzing fly. I offer this as the first example because I know so many young writers fall into this same trap.

Don’t put yourself into the show and make yourself the lead character. I once read a CHEERS where Alan had more lines than Sam & Diane combined. Alan? Who’s Alan? Alan was one of the extras. And so he remained.

And just because people tell you you look like Debra Messing doesn’t mean you should write a WILL & GRACE entitled “Grace’s Sister”. If I get a script with a photo attached I know I’m in trouble.

Don’t hand write your script, no matter how good your penmanship. Send your spec in a UCLA blue book and you’ll get an F.

Don’t invent a format.

Know the characters. I read a spec MARY TYLER MOORE SHOW where Mary wondered what to get her husband for his birthday. Her “husband”???!

Keep in mind the production parameters. A MASH I once read featured this:

EXT. YANKEE STADIUM – DAY

Hawkeye is on the mound during the World Series. 60,000 people cheer.

Huh????? Ask yourself the following question: Can anybody other than Peter Jackson or James Cameron make this? And if the answer is no, especially for a multi-camera show that takes place in a living room, then don’t do it.

Similarly, avoid dream sequences. The GEORGE LOPEZ SHOW is not looking for the next Fellini.

Don’t hinge your show on stunt casting. I read a BECKER where former President Jimmy Carter came in for a check-up and offered dating advice. Yeah, President Carter gets his physicals in the Bronx. And yeah, President Carter is always available to guest on a sitcom and advise a character to say whatever is necessary to get laid.

Don’t change the characters’ reality to fit your story. Ray Barone is not Jewish. THAT’S why he can’t have a bar mitzvah.

I was going to recommend you don’t do like one aspiring writer and make a joke in a CHEERS about Diane’s pussy because it’s crude, offensive, and inappropriate, but I saw the same joke two weeks ago on STACKED.

Still, I’d like to think there is some line of decorum and taste left. I once read a NEWSRADIO where the story was the Dave Foley character comes into his office in the morning and discovers a semen stain on his couch. Then the episode went downhill.

Don’t marry off any of the main characters.

Don’t kill off any of the main characters.

Don’t go the first ten pages before doing a joke. This even applies to many drama specs.

Don’t do the “supersize” hour episode.

The last sentence in your script should not be “To Be Continued”.

Don’t include a cover letter telling the producer that you sent him a copy of the script months ago and that he was shirking his responsibility by not reading it. Our agent did this once and trust me, David Lloyd was not amused.

And finally, avoid this ploy: I once received a spec MASH with a note that read “This script was written by my brother. On his way to the post office to mail it he was hit by a car and killed. I’m sure he would have wanted you to read it anyway. P.S. If you want any changes I can make them.” He received a touching rejection sympathy card.

Just remember this, when producers read your script they want to like it. They want to discover the next Larry Gelbart. It only helps them. Don’t shoot yourself in the foot by doing something stupid like relying on Jimmy Carter to get your laughs.