#writing for TV

[mehlsbells]

Inspired by @ludm, I wrote (a lot) about Willow.

[filmcourage]

3 Tips For Writing A TV Spec Script - Billy Van Zandt

Watch the video interview on YouTube here.

[el-ffej]

Off-topic/Historical side note:

All the early episodes of Columbo were 73 minutes long (i.e., 90 minutes on TV with commercials). The show was designed for stories of this length; Levinson and Link (the show's creators and initial showrunners) had found that this was optimal for an effective Columbo "howdunnit" story.

After the show took off with audiences (either the second or third season, I forget), the NBC executives demanded longer scripts -- a 2-hour show meant more commercial breaks and thus more ad revenue.

The showrunners and Falk pushed back against this over the remaining seasons; Falk in particular had been very effective in blocking network interference in the past. But the one thing the network didn't budge on was this (though there were both 2 hour and 90 minute episodes over the course of the remaining seasons).

Most reviewers/critics of the series -- and in particular, the various creative people involved in the show (including Falk) -- felt that the 90-minute episodes were generally superior to the 2-hour episodes. Not always -- there were a handful of top-tier 2-hour episodes, and some 90-minute clunkers; and script length/episode length was only a single factor in the quality of a Columbo. But the common theme in interviews with those involved with the show was that a 90-minute episode was perfect for a Columbo mystery -- a tight, taut plotline that allowed the murder to unfold, Columbo to investigate the case and assemble clues, and the denouement where he reveals the proof of the murderer's guilt -- all with little or no padding.

References: The Columbo Phile by Mark Dawidziak, and Shooting Columbo by David Koenig (primarily the former).

PS -- from the same books, you're absolutely right about Falk's workload. (And he was filming theatrical films at the same time, like The In-Laws.)

Frankly, the weirdest thing about Columbo from the perspective of modern network television isn't the narrative structure – it's the episode length. I'm checking Wikipedia right now to make sure I'm remembering this correctly, and apparently episodes of Columbo range from 73 to 98 minutes in length. Like, the shortest episodes of Columbo are on par with the longest episodes of Game of Thrones. The minimum length to be classified as a "feature film" is 80 minutes, so 50% of the episodes are technically movies. Including commercial breaks for broadcast television, this show would have originally aired in a two-hour timeslot. When folks remark on how weird it is that Columbo himself often doesn't even show up until the second act, you need to understand that what we're talking about is a show where the title character is often first strolling on screen thirty-five minutes in.

[chilipepperconverse]

surprised this hadn't been made yet

[sourdough-seal]

“are you a fan of - ” you misunderstand me. i am not a fan. i am not a well-adjusted, casual media enjoyer. sports language could never describe how i feel about this fictional topic

[writergeekrhw]

I made another thing.

With apologies to Neil Gaiman.

[callme-l]

I saw a lot of people happy with the 4 pearls, I decided to give a tip to non-readers

[karemandohan1999]

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[decaffeinatedpartymuggoop]

My favorite thing about Annabeth is her wardrobe.

Cause like, Rick simplifies her clothes in a way a man would, and you can tell.

Cause in EVERY book, from The Lightning Thief to Chalice, she’s in the goddamn CHB shirt. With like some shorts or cargo pants. Nothing more, nothing less.

He’s made improvements over the years, giving her some other clothes. But he’ll always come back to old faithful.

Like, he most definitely did it on accident, but he made her so Adam Sandler and I love it

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[ronanlynchbf]

tshirt that says NO LIVE ORGANISM CAN CONTINUE FOR LONG TO EXIST SANELY UNDER CONDITIONS OF ABSOLUTE REALITY

[whendidmythoughtsgocrazy]

Don’t miss out on your life while you’re trying to get it together. Take some chances.

k.b. // dynasty - netflix

[escespace]

To whoever first wrote that Merlin is only clumsy because he has to make a conscious effort and always invest a lot of energy to not allowing his magic to be instinctive : Thank you! That concept always lives in my mind for free

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

Dr Doolittle-style show about a detective who can talk to animals, except instead of talking like people the animals still talk like animals, just translated into English sentences, so the plot of most episodes centres around trying to figure out what the star witness testimony actually means.

Victim's murder was witnessed by her pet snake, whose tank was in the room. Unfortunately pet snake is incapable of describing the world around them except in terms of 'rocks' and 'meat', with their descriptions of individual forms of 'meat' focusing almost entirely on body temperature and smell.

(Solved when it turns out that their description of 'warm-cold meat with rock' was actually an attempt to describe a suspect with a prosthetic limb, which is pretty unnoticeable to a human, but looks dramatically different in infrared.)

Murder at a honey farm. Each witness managed to see about ~0.06% of the full crime, in order to get the full picture, you have to get them to swarm.

Victim was found several days after death, already crawling with maggots. Days into the investigation, protag begins a frantic search to find any surviving maggots/flies that were on the corpse, after realising that how the victim tasted would give vital information about the poison used.

Also there's at least one or two animals who actually do talk in full sentences and in terms humans can understand, and the reason behind this is never fully explained.

All cats in this universe talk in terms of 'mine/not-mine' and mainly focus on territory, mates and food, with the one exception of the main character's cat who is named Watson and knows how to use sarcasm.

All insects speak in one word sentences where everything is 'food', 'enemy' or (for hive insects) 'friend' and 'queen', with the exception of seven-spotted ladybirds specifically, who for some reason speak in full English sentences and are up to date and knowledgeable about world events. The protagonists is as concerned by the full implications of this as you are.

[zephyrchama]

You were sick. Your head was in a fog and your throat hurt something fierce. It was sweltering hot yet you shivered under the covers, hoping for the fever to pass soon. Your body, doing its best to get better, decided to empty the contents of your stomach over the side of the bed.

Beelzebub was the first to discover your condition. He came to wake you up in person when you hadn't shown up on time for breakfast. You were teetering like a newborn deer trying to clean up your mess. He was taken aback at the sight, at how clammy you were, and gently wiped the sweat from your face while checking how warm your forehead was. "You should lay down," he recommended, practically pushing you back into bed. You asked him to guide you to the bathroom instead.

He disappeared to fetch Lucifer. The eldest arrived immediately upon being informed of your condition. Your face muscles twitched as you tried to hold back a second round and apologized for the state you were in. Lucifer told you to stay quiet and just rest. "If you want to apologize, then get better soon."

"Don't tell anyone about this, ok?" you tried to ask. It came out as a garbled, barely perceptible whisper sending bolts of pain through your neck. You didn't want anyone to know how bad things really were.

"I do need to inform Diavolo, but rest assured I'll keep it brief." After ensuring you had water and would be fine alone for a few hours, Lucifer left early to inform RAD of your absence. He later texted you, "Don't hesitate to summon me if you need anything."

The house was quiet. It felt surreal to be the only one there. After some time had passed, you hobbled back to your bedroom and tried to sleep through the pain. Blissfully unaware of the chaos occurring elsewhere.

RAD is no small academy by any means, but rumors sure do spread fast. In first period, Beelzebub told Belphegor the sight he witnessed. They were overheard by Asmodeus, who lamented your absence to Solomon. Solomon asked Raphael to come with him to prepare some nutritious human food so you'd recover faster, and had to be forcibly stopped by Simeon. Luke found out by interrogating Solomon about why he was causing a scene in the kitchen.

Mephistopheles caught wind of the gossip and went directly to Diavolo for confirmation. Lucifer was none too happy at the situation, but the rumor mill was already spinning in full force. He did his best to uphold your image by telling anyone who broached the subject, "it's just the sniffles."

By lunchtime, Mammon was taking bets on how sick you were. "500 grimm says they're explodin' from both ends." "If that were the case, one of us would have stayed at the house with them," Satan rebutted, spying an easy win. "500 grimm says it's just coming out the bottom." They went back and forth, with others occasionally chipping in new symptoms such as hives or internal bleeding. Asmodeus, unable to listen any longer, left the cafeteria to post vague stories about his concern for you on social media.

Leviathan and Thirteen sent you get-well-soon text messages. One was full of worry and asked you to respond ASAP so they knew you weren't dying, as anxiety over your condition was causing them no end of fear. The other assured you to rest easy knowing that your candle was fine and you had plenty of time left before you kicked the bucket. It even recommended passing your bug onto someone else for fun.

You only saw the notifications in the evening, when a pounding headache woke you up and resounding footsteps in the hall signaled that people were home from school.

There was a knock at the door and Lucifer announced you had company. The crown prince and his butler imposed with a tray of fresh herbal tea. It would have smelled amazing if you possessed the ability to breathe through your nose. As the door shut behind them, you spotted at least ten figures out in the hallway.

Barbatos silently served you a hot cup, hopeful the rising stream would assist your sinuses. "Looks like you're recovering well!" Diavolo chimed. "That's great. I feared you were going to heave your guts out all day."

The frank sincerity caught you off guard and you choked on your tea. Barbatos was quick to grab the cup before it spilled.

"You knew?" you rasped. "Oh yes. Lucifer said it wasn't that bad, but tales of your illness have spread all over campus. We know human bodies aren't very strong."

You hunched down into the blankets to hide. The heat spreading across your face this time was not due to fever.