Ken Levine and POV

I stumbled across a blog by Ken Levine, a veteran TV writer (MASH, Cheers, etc.). In his most recent post, he discusses the making of his favorite MASH episode, "POV."

The story was told entirely from the first-person POV of a wounded soldier, who encounters all the show's regulars as they work to heal him. In the preceding post, Levine includes an excerpt from that episode's script, as well as a YouTube clip of the first act of the episode -- in which we see nearly every recurring character on MASH from the wounded soldier's POV.

It's a very interesting narrative device, because it allows us, via the soldier, to view the characters from a detached 3rd person POV until they interact with "us" directly. At that point, the story (and the characters) change from fictional people we're watching from a safe distance to individuals who are talking TO US, directly -- and often in a tone that reveals more about them than we ever see from the traditional, 3rd person POV.

Seeds of videoblogging, anyone?

(FYI, the most interesting tidbit I noticed was that this episode was filmed in three days. Wow. And we think filming a 5 minute episode of STBD is complicated...)

Rewrites and the 10 Minute Rule

I'll be editing a rough cut of our next episode today. I say "rough" because not every scene has been filmed yet, so any estimation of time is an educated guess at this point.

But that's exactly what I'm looking for.

The script for this episode clocked in at 17 pages, which translates (again, roughly) to 12 or 13 minutes. (In theory, a properly-formatted screenplay page should equal a minute of screen time; our scripts always run faster.)

But we've had to reschedule a few shoots, and now a couple scenes will need to be rewritten / replaced to accommodate existing timeframes. That's fine -- but I need to know how much time I have left to play with.

So I'll drop all filmed scenes into a timeline, find a useable take of each one -- straight through, from beginning to end, no edits -- and time that footage out. Subtract from 10:00, which is our maximum episode length, and voila: I'll know exactly how much time I have left to fiddle with.

(The converse of this approach would be filming everything in the script and then some, as we usually do, and then trying to decide what scenes will live or die in the editing process. Not as fun, and invariably leads to the "Hey, whatever happened to that scene?" questions...)

After four years of writing scripts...

... I just now (JUST NOW!) realize that Microsoft Word has a keyboard shortcut for Center and Lefthand justifying text.

JUST NOW!

Do you KNOW how many mouseclicks I could have saved since 2003?

*simmers*

FYI, on a MAC: Apple + E = Center, and Apple + L = Lefthand.

Keeping Notes Only Works If You Read Them

Like most writers, I keep a notebook -- or forty. Most of them are filled with ideas for STBD -- character notes, story ideas, slivers of scenes and dialogue.

A lot of what I write down is what I've overheard while writing in public. Very often, a passing car or an overheard conversation in a cafe will prompt a (seemingly) good idea that I'll jot down with the intention of returning to later...

... except I rarely do.

For some reason, I have REAMS of notebooks filled with ideas, and I hardly ever return to them. It's almost as if, by committing them to paper once, I expect to remember them forever.

And, oddly, I usually do. In fact, most of the primary ideas for STBD have been around for years, and new concepts that seem hot will usually stick in my mind for months afterwards, waiting for a chance to be manifested in the show.

But, as I learned yesterday, there are exceptions to this pattern.

Ideas Are Like Wine... or Cheese...

I was staying at a hotel without my standard (current) notebook, so I went to the car for my Emergency Travel Notebook instead. Upon opening it, I realize I haven't written in it since April of 2006 -- well over a year. More surprising was the quality of the ideas that were trapped in its pages, many of which had never been transferred elsewhere -- including into the show.

Among these ideas:

- If I were to restart STBD from scratch -- what would I do differently?

- Dozens of notes written from the character Glenn's POV -- none of which have been used on the show.

- Dozens more ideas meant to add depth and a sense of place to both the radio station and the cafe -- none of which have been used on the show.

Part of the reason these ideas might seem more worthwhile now is that they've had time to age. It's often hard to gauge the quality of a new idea upon inception, because you have nothing to compare it to except the endless possibilities of the future. Instead, deciding on one course -- and then looking back to see how other paths might have fared -- affords me the proper perspective to say, "This would have worked much better," or, "We should DEFINITELY do this next."

So now I'm thinking: I have several dozen notebooks in this apartment. I wonder how much gold is waiting to be mined within their pages...

What Makes Comedy Funny?

A woman's child dies. Tragic? Almost definitely.

A guy slips and falls down. Funny?

That depends on your entire life history.

Comedy Is Context

Drama tends to appeal to the human audience's broader sense of justice, of right and wrong, of tragedy vs. exultation. Deep down, we can say with certainty whether something is a positive or negative event. And, by and large, the bulk of humanity agrees with the typical evaluations: war, sickness and death are (usually) bad, and love, marriage and success are (usually) good.

Meanwhile, comedy appeals to a different part of the human condition: the intellect. In comedy, we don't require an emotional response for the laughs to be effective. Instead, we need a disconnect between the expected action and the actual action. That's the rift that causes surprise, which leads to amusement / hilarity.

But that rift is dependent upon what YOU expected to happen, and what YOU expected might not be what I expected to happen. That's because we all approach new information from different previous experiences, which determine whether something is confusing, surprising or offensive -- to US.

It also explains why one person might find the Three Stooges hilarious and someone else might find them unbearably idiotic.

What You Ate for Breakfast Determines Your Sense of Humor

Everything you've ever done, seen, heard or experienced influences your worldview today. The less you've done, the more easily you're surprised, and therefore the more likely you are to find something funny: your frame of reference is small enough that EVERYTHING is new / strange / different.

Thus, even if you don't laugh WITH someone, you're well-prepared to laugh AT someone (because they're different, and laughter is a safe form of self-defense.)

Meanwhile, if your life is more cosmopolitan -- if you have a wider basis of experience to draw from -- then you're less likely to be surprised by simple humor. You see the jokes coming. What 90% of the public finds surprising is second nature to you.

Congratulations: you're the kind of audience Hollywood hates.

YOU appreciate jokes that require lengthy set-ups and payoffs.

YOU enjoy witty turns of phrase and intellectual acrobatics.

YOU understand conflicts across multiple layers of characterization.

In short, you're an audience that requires more work from a storyteller in order to be surprised. This means you're in a rarefied niche. And you're incredibly hard to reach, because there are fewer artists with the tools necessary to surprise you.

This is why black comedies, satires and dialogue-driven comedies are in such short supply: their audiences are, by nature, much smaller. This means they're more work to make AND they're less-profitable.

And, meanwhile, the Scary Movie franchise keeps on chugging...

STBD Story Meeting and You

On Monday, several STBD regulars convened at a pair of tables in the Shadyside Crazy Mocha to float ideas for Season Five of STBD. We discussed goals and concepts for various characters, and for the series as a whole.

As with any brainstorming session, some ideas and insights were spot-on, and some weren't received quite so warmly. But exchanging these ideas is an integral part of creating the series WE want STBD to be.

What about you?

We'd love to open the story creation process to the audience as well, since you're the ones who keep coming back for more. Do you have specific ideas you'd like to pitch for Season Five? Would you like to try your hand at writing a scene? Let us know!

We're considering the merits of an STBD wiki. Would those of you inclined to provide ideas be interested in the wiki format?

Feel free to post comments here, or to email jkownacki somethingtobedesired com.

What Makes Comedy vs. Drama?

When you're writing or filming, you tend to know if you're creating comedy or drama. But do you know why? If you knew why, would you be better able to make GREAT comedy or GREAT drama?

Definitions

When what you expect to happen DOESN'T happen, that's comedy.

When the WORST thing that could happen occurs, that's drama.

These definitions are overly simplistic, but they apply in nearly every circumstance.

Examples

In Casablanca, the worst thing that could happen to Rick is that he'd meet Ilsa again. Then she walks into his bar. Then she needs his help. THEN she tells him she's married. And THEN she tells him she's still in love with him.

That's drama.

In It's a Wonderful Life, the worst thing that could happen to George Bailey is that he'd get stuck in Bedford Falls his whole life. Then he does. Then he goes broke. Then he gets into a fight, crashes his car and considers suicide.

THAT'S drama.

And just because a story has elements of one side, it doesn't mean it can't have elements of the other. (In fact, it needs some amount of balance, or else it becomes melodrama or farce.)

For example, in It's a Wonderful Life, George Bailey is about to commit suicide by jumping off a bridge... but his guardian angel, Clarence, jumps into the water first, pretending to be a drowning man so George will have to save him. (That's drama.)

Then, after rescuing Clarence, George discovers he's hopelessly antiquated and out of touch, rendering him nearly inoperable in public. That's comedy.

THEN, when Clarence finds his opportunity to help George see the error of his ways -- showing him what his life would be like had he never been born -- he does so. At first, this is comedy. But as George sees just how dire everyone ELSE'S lives are as the result of the absence of his, the situation very quickly turns from comedic to desperately dramatic.

Without that ebb and flow between comedy and drama, most satisfying stories would fall apart from a top-heavy nature.

Practicality

Whether you're writing a blog, filming a video, recording a song or otherwise telling a story, what kind of story is it? What will make your drama more dramatic or your comedy more comedic? What's missing from your story that will help counterbalance it?

On the Fly

Rick Hertzig (Glenn) wonders if Courtney Jenkins (Tabitha) and Ann Turiano (Caroline) are making it all up...
Wondering how much of an average STBD episode is improvised?

Let's look at the three most recent episodes:

Episode #23: "Lonely Boy"

Scene One: Rich asks Dierdre about "the guy who's always writing in the corner"
Source: Scripted (except for Rich's opening and closing lines, "Hey, Stretch..." / "Whatcha Twittering?")

Scene Two: Alexxxis and Caroline (almost) discuss Lloyd
Source: Scripted

Scene Three: Tim tells Dierdre about his online dating ploy
Source: Scripted

Scene Four: Tim introduces himself to "LonelyGirl69"
Source: Improvised

Scene Five: Alexxxis and Caroline give Chloe sex advice
Source: Scripted

Scene Six: Tim and "LonelyGirl69" stay late after Dierdre closes up
Source: Improvised

TOTAL: 4 scripted scenes, 2 improvised scenes

Episode #24: "The Notebook"

Scene One: Caroline lobbies to borrow the notebook from Dierdre
Source: Scripted

Scene Two: Caroline reads Glenn's writing
Source: Scripted

Scene Three: Caroline and Leo argue about... Leo
Source: Improvised

Scene Four: Tim rambles to Dierdre about his "date"
Source: Scripted

Scene Five: Caroline and Leo conclude their argument
Source: Improvised

Scene Six: Glenn enters, Dierdre stalls him, Caroline arrives w/ the notebook
Source: Scripted

TOTAL: 4 scripted scenes, 2 improvised scenes (actually filmed as one large scene)

Episode #25: "Further Review"

Scene One: Tabitha reveals the "bad news" to Caroline and Dierdre
Source: Scripted

Scene Two: Leo and Liz read the book reviews
Source: Improvised

Scene Three: Rich states his case against the RIAA
Source: Improvised

Scene Four: Leo fails to get more money from Liz / Vanity Press
Source: Improvised

Scene Five: Caroline and Todd lament their lives
Source: Improvised

Scene Six: Caroline and Todd come home to find...
Source: Scripted

TOTAL: 2 scripted scenes, 4 improvised scenes

What Have You Learned?

1) On average, half of any STBD episode is improvised...

2) Most scenes involving Leo (at least recently) have been improvised...

3) Most scenes in which we felt a natural conversation would work best were improvised....

4) Most scenes in which we... um... didn't have time to write a script... were improvised...

5) You can do that when you have a talented cast that know how to think on their feet.

Cameo City

Natalie Nicolian reprises her role as Alison on this week's STBD.
On this week's episode of STBD, we had cameo appearances by Dean and Alison, neither of whom are regular cast members anymore but each of whom was available to pop in for a quick scene.

That's the beauty of having a cast that's forever growing larger: the world these characters live in keeps getting larger as well. Characters who haven't been part of the story for months or years can still bump up against the current focus of the series and, in some cases, still have an impact on the characters we still follow.

It's kind of like life.

Speaking of which, we have at least one more major cameo appearance on the horizon this season, as well as a whole new breed of cameo: the local Pittsburgh "celebrity" cameo -- or, more accurately, "weblebrity."

Ever since PodCamp Pittsburgh, we've been far more aware of the growing internet culture around here than we had been previously. With this many bloggers, podcasters and artists in town, it's only natural that some of them start making appearances on STBD. That trend kicks off in next Monday's episode, so keep your eyes open...

Oh, and if YOU happen to be a personality (Pittsburgh or otherwise) who'd like to make a cameo appearance on the show, drop us a line and let us know. We're always looking for people who have a sense of humor, especially about themselves...

Digging Deeper

After yesterday's "extended scene" post, in which we see more of Dex's Christmas DVD for Dierdre than I had time to include in the original episode, we got this comment on our MySpace blog:

"Oh my god… I’m beginning to wonder if much of what we’re supposed to know about Dierdre and Dex is lying on the cutting room floor. In this extended cut we get a much more elaborate profile of Dex and what Dierdre apparently doesn’t want to deal with. I understand better now and would not have begrudged the extra minute of content…"

And there's the rub: how much of the story NEEDS to be told in those 10 minutes every week, and how much can be left out without disrupting the flow?

There's a little something left out of almost every episode. Not on purpose; we frequently just shoot more than we end up using, especially when we ad-lib. All of those extra scenes would go a long way toward helping build character, but they rarely do much to advance the actual story.

We have several extra Dean and Caroline scenes, some unused Karl footage, some Tabitha and Liz anecdotes... We even have a scene between Jack and Dierdre from Season One that would have changed the way at least two, if not four, of the lead characters would come to be viewed... All of which has never been aired.

Where will all this footage end up, you ask? If there were a DVD in the works, it might find its way onto there. But we might also find a more immediate use for it as well... stay tuned...

In the meantime: who (or what) would YOU like to see more of?

Personality of a Group

Often, scenes in STBD need to be tinkered with.

Perhaps a location needs to be switched. Perhaps a useful prop changes the opportunities within a scene.

Most often, it's because an actor is added to or subtracted from the scene, changing its entire dynamic.

Coming and Going

Let's say you're out with a friend at a bar, having a conversation. While you're talking, you're greeted by someone else your friend knows very well, but whom you've never met. Suddenly, the entire conversation changes.

- You can no longer talk about anything personal because now you're in the company of a stranger.
- Your friend and the new acquaintance have numerous anecdotes to share, none of which involve you.
- Suddenly, YOU'RE the stranger in the room.

A similar thing happens when characters get added to or subtracted from scenes.

Sometimes a scheduled scene will be knocked off-kilter because one of the actors becomes unavailable. Alternately, an actor may become unexpectedly available and offer to join a scene. This often happens if we're filming back-to-back scenes in a location and an actor who was only needed for the 1st scene decides he or she has time to be involved in the 2nd scene as well -- if it would be useful.

Then, on the fly, we need to decide if there's room in the scene for another voice.

But it's more than just a reallocation of dialogue, or even the invention of new lines; the presence (or absence) of a character in that scene now affects the rhythm of the scene, as well as the actions and intentions of the other characters.

Bite Your Tongue

For example: let's say Caroline and Dierdre are discussing something personal at Affogato. If we decide to add Rich to the scene, that directly affects Caroline (who's forced to become more "professional" and guarded because her boss is there) and Dierdre (who doesn't know Rich personally and therefore would be reluctant to talk openly).

Conversely, if a scene calls for Leo, Dex and Chloe to be locked out of a car in a parking garage, and then we discover Dex can't be part of the scene after all, this changes the scene's dynamic -- and what it's actually about. Instead of three headstrong, impetuous personalities trying to one-up each other, each with their own motivations, we're now left with an awkward moment between Leo and Chloe. In this situation, Leo would almost certainly be trying to impress Chloe in the first place, until he realizes he's locked out, at which point his ability to impress her becomes nil and she visibly gains the upper hand.

Just like that, the comedy of the scene -- and its weight within the script -- changes.

A change like that might not just affect one scene, but its placement within the script -- or its relocation to a completely different episode.

Just like a recipe, the addition and subtraction of ingredients in a story can drastically affect the end result.

Place Settings

When she's not portraying Caroline on Something to Be Desired, Ann Turiano works in Pittsburgh's theatre and film community.

Yesterday, she suggested we attend a writing workshop conducted by Michele Lowe, a playwright whose most recent work, Mezzulah, 1946, will make its world premiere this month as part of the Pittsburgh City Theatre's New American Trio series of brand new works by American playwrights.

Considering I'm in the midst of writing and refurbishing STBD, this suggestion made sense.

You're Only Ever Where You Are

Lowe's workshop was about the power of "place" in a story -- specifically, how the WHERE of a story impacts the choices made by the characters within. Language, colors, textures -- all of these elements, which provide the backgrounds and settings that inform the characters' identities and create their backstories that directly affect their actions in the present -- it's all a product of the immediate environment.

That resonated with me because STBD is a story about Pittsburgh.

All along, we've never once denied that we're a Pittsburgh production. We've never pretended that the city depicted in the episodes is really New York or Chicago. We're proud to be from Pittsburgh, because we feel that sharing our view of the city with the outside world may help a larger audience come to appreciate what Pittsburgh has to offer. And, living here, we realize that this is a town with a serious identity crisis, so seeing itself dissected -- sometimes positively, sometimes constructively -- might help our fellow Pittsburghers feel proud of where they come from.

But how does being from Pittsburgh actually affect the CHARACTERS?

City as State (of Mind)

Would Caroline and Leo make the same choices they do now if they were from, say, Salt Lake City? Or Maine?

How do local institutions like the Steelers, Pirates and Penguins, Heinz and Primanti Bros., our triangular downtown, our numerous traffic tunnels and our struggle to move beyond a steel-based economy affect the characters' identities and psyches?

Where are the "yinzers" in our cast, the people who speak with that definitive Pittsburgh diction and use our regional dialect (like "slippy," "lurpy" and "redd up")?

As our recent audience survey showed, the bulk of our audience is (or once was) local, and the majority of that audience wants to see MORE Pittsburgh on the show. How can we interweave the city more organically into the story?

Can STBD become a love letter to Pittsburgh, much the same way as Sex & the City became a cultural touchstone for New Yorkers?

I believe so. All we have to do now is figure out HOW to best utilize the WHERE.

Plot vs. Non-Plot

[This blog post turned out to be exceedingly long. Get some coffee.]

Our first season of STBD is a misnomer. It's only five episodes, which amounts to an hour's worth of video.

In actuality, Season One is really one short film script, subdivided into sections by necessity.

Conversely, seasons two, three and four were written on the fly. Real-life variables, including cast availability, forced us to switch things up on the move. This resulted in a fluid yet dramatically awkward approach to storytelling. The actors didn't know how the story was going to end because NONE of us knew if we'd be able to film what we needed to film, or when.

That approach has proven to be unsatisfying all around, so we've tabled it for now, in favor of working within a more tightly-plotted script. We'll still allow for situational improvisation, but we're aiming to tell a more cohesive, coherent story.

In essence, we're returning to the Subdivided Film Script theory.

From One Three Act Structure, Many

Instead of thinking in terms of "seasons," I'm thinking in terms of story arcs. Every character has his or her own trajectory, and some reach new milestones in their personal adventures faster than others. As these stories intertwine, and similarities begin to develop, the bonds of a unified series of plot points eventually coalesces into One Story.

This One Story may take three episodes or ten episodes to tell; it may even take 40. But what it actually IS, when you break it down, is one large script, subdivided by necessity into smaller, bite-sized pieces, which we'll call "episodes."

Sound analytical? It is, in a way, although it's been proven to work for thousands of years. It's the same general three-act structure used since the days of Plato, and which has driven countless works of dramatic and comedic art throughout the centuries.

It also worked pretty well in Season One, so we speak from experience.

In Defense of Plotlessness

Personally, as a writer, I'm perpetually torn between wanting to tell a story that jumps off the page and wanting to tell NO STORY AT ALL, and allowing the minutae of interactions between the characters to draw us incrementally into their world. It's the difference between Casablanca and Seinfeld, although each can incorporate elements of the other.

In a plot, something happens. Characters are affected. A statement is made.

In a non-plot, nothing happens. Characters may or may not be affected. A statement may or may not be made.

Plots are artificial simplifications of life, yet are traditionally emotionally satisfying because they can be processed.

Non-plots are stylized commentaries upon life. They are traditionally unsatisfying emotionally because they are incomplete, yet that is exactly why they hold such appeal to the audiences who appreciate them: they feel more like real life.

The STBD Challenge

Something to Be Desired was always meant to be a commentary upon real life. By that declaration, it's designed to be a non-plot.

And yet, our most successful story arc thus far was our first season, which follows Jack through a series of miniature encounters until he comes to the series' titular conclusion: "Sometimes, real life leaves a little..."

Subsequent seasons have failed to generate the same dramatic buzz, with few exceptions: The Dean and Caroline romance (which has a beginning, middle and end), the mystery of the box Dex gives Dierdre for Christmas (which has a beginning, middle and end)...

See the trend? Our audience -- most audiences -- respond most strongly to plot-driven sections of the story because those include events and realizations that people can react to and form opinions about. This is why, unless a story is defiantly anti-plot (think Russian Ark or most Godard films), even the most plotless of ventures still hangs upon a "hook" or "conceit" of some kind. Even Seinfeld: in every episode, some small interconnection of minor observations or actions compounds to create a final realization, either in a character or in the audience.

The Downside of Plot

Interestingly, "plot" can also be seen as the playground of a) a primitive audience, which needs the security of a beginning / middle / end, as the first audiences of stories presumably did, or b) an American audience. Foreign film fans will notice far less adherence to the rigors of plot in some of the most successful non-American films of all time, which begs the question: are American audiences, and therefore American storytellers, primitive in comparison to audiences of the world?

By and large, the public wants a story it can digest, learn from, agree or disagree with, but primarily it wants a story that exists within processable boundaries. It wants a story where SOMETHING HAPPENS.

That doesn't mean STBD can't wander. It doesn't mean we can't go completely off the beaten path, under the brush, across a river and into the abandoned farmhouse of plotlessness from time to time. Look around: ALL SHOWS DO IT. There's not one successful film or TV show that doesn't include the occasional "character moment," or whatever shorthand you prefer for a scene or sequence that has nothing to do with the plot.

Why not?

Because the public ALSO demands that its stories be about something that happens TO CHARACTERS IT CARES ABOUT. And if all the characters in the story are doing is relating plot-driven information and racing from one location to the next, forever subservient to the dramatic demands of the story, they cease to feel like "people" we can empathize with. They lose their free will, their individuality, their ability for us to relate to them.

IF AN AUDIENCE DOESN'T CARE ABOUT CHARACTERS, IT WON'T CARE WHAT HAPPENS TO THEM.

(This is the primary flaw you'll hear about Isaac Asimov and other "hard" science fiction writers: they're so wrapped up in WHAT'S HAPPENING, they forget to create characters the audience cares about, hoping instead that their abstract concepts -- "this could happen to mankind" -- will be enough to satisfy the dramatic needs of their stories. For the average audience member, trained to empathize with her heroes, it's not.)

Plot and STBD

So, you may be asking yourself, how does a series that has largely avoided traditional plot-driven stories intend to change its stripes without alienating its audience?

For one thing, we don't believe our audience is anti-plot. If anything, we feel they appreciate stories that result from -- and help define -- the actions of the characters themselves. As much as they may love Dierdre or Caroline or Leo, characterization doesn't happen in a vacuum; it's built by the characters' actions and reactions to one another.

As artists, we also enjoy knowing that audiences are generating opinions and reactions to our work. If we don't provide them with statements and actions to digest, they don't need to develop opinions about them. Feedback is a two-way street, and we can't expect large, vibrant discussions to be generated by plotless stories.

The cool thing, though, is HOW we intend to incorporate character and plot in the upcoming storylines... and what we feel is a pretty innovative way to include the audience in the process as well.

We'll talk more about that as we near our relaunch on March 26. For now, it's back to the plotting board...

No Story Without a Spine

I saw Cabaret last night -- the Pittsburgh Public Theater's run ends this weekend, by the way -- and I enjoyed it. My theatre tastes are a bit dodgy, and I'm not always the biggest fan of musicals, but I thought the bulk of the show was well-conceived and well-directed. I even thought some of the minor actors outshone the flashier roles, which is always hard to balance in any show. But, by and large, I felt this version of the play -- although obviously sanitized for the mostly-geriatric Pittsburgh theatregoing crowd -- was true to the play's theme.

Actually, in this case -- as in most successful works -- I could say "themes": lust for life, the frailty of human connection, reluctance to "grow up", the burden of tradition, etc. Despite the play's many criss-crossing storylines, each of them supports one of the themes above, which could all be boiled down to: identity vs. conformity.

STBD Could Use a Little Kit-Kat Klub

FInding a theme for Something to Be Desired has been tricky recently, and is one of the reasons this season's plotlines may seem a bit more scattered than normal. In addition to a lack of scheduling simplicity, there's also been a lack of dramatic focus.

In Season One, everything revolved around Jack Boyd.

In Season Two, everything revolved around WANT FM and Shout! Magazine.

In Season Three, everything revolved around Dean and Caroline's relationship.

In Season Four, everything revolves around... hmm... well, there's the problem.

Marketing Saves the Day

Once upon a time, STBD could be described as "a comedy about a group of DJs at the struggling WANT FM." But that time has passed. In fact, none of the central characters left on the show are DJs by trade, and the station itself has been shut down. This leaves the characters -- and the series' identity -- in flux. What sums us up?

I posed this question to Andrea, our new marketing intern, earlier this week. She agreed, there isn't an easily-digestible "elevator pitch" that allows people to wrap their heads around the concept of the show.

"A comedy about a bunch of people in their twenties and early thirties" is gangly.

"A comedy about a bunch of acquaintances in Pittsburgh" doesn't sound like a hook.

"A comedy about three roommates trying to navigate life after college?" Close, but shades of Three's Company color the verbiage.

How the World Can Change Due to One Little Word

So: what unifying element in the experiences of the central characters ties the series together AND makes for a quick explanation?

I think I found it:

"A comedy about a group of struggling artists in Pittsburgh."

In fact, it's very close to the original summary. The only difference is that the occupations of the central characters have strayed too far from WANT FM to be easily comparable -- except that each of them, in one way or another, is an aspiring artist.

Caroline, Leo and Gloria are writers. Dierdre, Dex and Lloyd are photographers. Rich is an aspiring media mogul. Karl is obviously insane. Add in the few new characters we'll be introducing in the next arc and the through-line becomes even clearer.

Suddenly, I feel like STBD has found its footing once again.

Now all we have to do is follow the path and see where it leads...

(Agree? Disagree? Have a better suggestion? Leave a comment!)

The WANT Problem

Longtime viewers remember an age not so long ago -- atcually, just last season -- when Something to Be Desired was still primarily about the DJs who worked at WANT FM. Some of them have asked where the radio station went this season, and why we're spending so much time focused on Vanity Press, Affogato, etc.

The answer is simple: we lost the location.

WANT was always filmed in the WQED radio station in Oakland. Through a stroke of good fortune, they were open to our original need for a location back in 2003 and they allowed us to utilize their facilities, few questions asked, for the next 3 years -- as long as we didn't disrupt anything.

Considering some of the scenes we were able to pull off on their premises -- including Caroline and Dean's love scene in the studio that kicks off Season Three, which was accidentally witnessed in progress by one of the WQED engineers -- we think we made great use of the opportunity without making life difficult for our hosts.

But then, without warning, we were informed one July afternoon that we would need to wrap up our filming and never return to the premises again. We attempted to discern what the problem was, or if there was anything we could do to smooth things over, but the powers-that-be were not interested in negotiation. We needed to leave and that was that.

And so WANT ceased to exist.

Ironically, we'd already begun filming in that direction, with the fictional station in danger of being shut down due to the bank taking it over. Our plan involved Todd rallying the troops and making a valiant stand against inevitability, and wrangling another year of life out of the station until an even bigger problem would have beset them, but that storyline got yanked out from underneath us before the season even aired.

(Incidentally, we never did find out why we were asked to leave. But considering new management was involved, it could have been any number of things which, under previous management, might never have been noticed but which drew attention to us now.

Informally, I suspect it had something to do with one of our actresses accidentally walking into a WQED board meeting while wearing a bustiere, but I suppose we'll never know for sure.)

Life After WQED

So, we did the next best thing we could do: we shifted focus to Vanity Press and Affogato while trying to find a new radio station location for WANT.

When those other leads failed to pan out either, we realized that WANT might never ride again. It seemed a disservice to our longtime fans -- and characters -- to have their unifying location written out so incidentally, so we left ourselves open to an act of serendipity that would enable us to resuscitate the concept in the immediate future.

Enter: Rich's wild idea of taking the station online.

On one hand, we lose the physicality of the location that made the radio element so convincing. On the other hand, we're now freed to tackle the bigger issue: how we, as people, communicate -- especially when it's semi-anonymous. And, considering traditional media are still reeling from the impact of the internet, it seemed only logical that WANT's next respite might come from a bunch of tubes.

How will this plotline return to the fore? Check back when new episodes resume on March 26 and we'll all find out.