Have not read Rice's "The Adding Machine" or seen it, but from the apparent time period, it's likely of the school of playwriting that has most influenced my work in general, mainly in terms of style.

I somewhat tend to moderate my writing style between the fairly straightforward and simple to slightly more theatrical in nature, more of the Serling/Chayefsky/Corwin mode. I like playing with language, and English is a terrific language to play with. There was a time in this country when literate syntactical construction was something honored; now everything tends to be more toward the y'know, I was, you know, hanging around the corner store, y'know, and Bob comes up to me, and he says....

If you look at the original Twilight Zone, some episodes of the original Star Trek, the Outer Limits...you see a kind of reflective writing that delights in slamming nouns and verbs together to see what kind of explosion you get when the syntax hits critical mass.

It saddens me a bit now that anybody who sounds too literate is often put down as showy or being theatrical. Listen to the speeches of Kennedy and Churchill and FDR, look to the great orators of our long history of a nation, from Lincoln to Jefferson. Their use of language, of an idea well formed and delivered, propelled this nation toward its current destiny, forged one country out of dozens of squabbling states. I listen now to politicians, hoping and waiting for the one who understands that the words have to dig into our souls and take root, must have power and the purity of language well-used. And I just don't hear it anymore...which is perhaps why we have consensus takers and not leaders these days.

It saddens me that literacy has become suspect, and degraded, given how many millions of years of evolution spent developing the ability to create language. The quality of our thoughts is bordered on all sides by our facility with language. The less precise the useage, the less clear the process of language, the less you can achieve what you want to achieve when you open you mouth to say something. We have slowly bastardized and degraded and weakened the language, abetted and abided by a growing cultural disdain for literacy, a cyclical trend toward anti-intellectualism.

So I write my characters as sharp, and as witty, and as intelligent, and as literate as I wish I would be under those sorts of circumstances, which of course I never am. Maybe to remind people of the power of language...mainly because I just love the sound of words carefully stitched together. My dramatic conceit is that in 2259, we have had a moderate rebirth of formality, and the kind of literacy you would often see in letters from the turn of the century, and the 1930s. Because it allows me to write it the way I want.

jms

Without going on overlong, as some of this has already been covered, it wasn't terrific as a kid. We moved every 6 months to a year, blowing from town to town (economic reasons), always the new kid, hence very few friends at any time. None that lasted more than that 6-12 months. No one town that constituted a home town. So I read a lot...novels, comics, you name it.

Wasn't a nerd in high school; I just passed through their ranks unnoticed, like some kind of translucent Eisenglass figurine at the back of the room. I went back to the 20th reunion...to find that only one person sorta kinda remembered me. No one else.

As for writing...I always knew that I'd be a writer, for as long as I can remember. Even as a kid I collected pens, had an interest in all things writing. The second that I was old enough to take typing classes, I did. Ended up taking 4 semesters of it, until by the time I left I was the fastest typist they'd ever produced, 'cause I knew full well I'd need that skill when I got going. In my senior year, having studied the style and structure of most of my favorite writers (I can do a lethal imitation of just about any writer's style), I decided, at 17, that I'd prepared enough...time to start Writing, and selling. And I did, right then.

And I've never looked back.

jms

"Who is master here? The man or his work?"

That's like one of those questions, "Which came first? Thought or language?" Can you really have thought without language? And how can you develop language without thought?" (See the stuff on the breakdown of the bicameral mind for some on this.)

That's a question I don't think any reasonable writer can answer. At times, a lot of the time, really, I'm not entirely sure. There's the talent, and the vessel, and sometimes the latter seems a poor vehicle for the former. The story, once set in motion, takes on a life of its own. To a very large extent, what I do when I write an episode is to peek into the B5 universe and find out what happened there that week. Sometimes I'm as much surprised as anyone else by what these characters have gotten themselves into *this* time.

The flip side, of course, is that there's an awful lot of me in this story, in the characters, the situations, the questions that get explored in the course of the story. I'm working through a lot of issues here, no question. It's my hope that there's enough interest in those issues and questions to affect others.

On that level, it's a very personal show. And it consumes ever waking hour of my life. I think I've kind of lost track of where the line is between "the man and the work." It's all the same.

jms

Nope, no real interest in doing movies; it's really a director's medium, so I prefer either television or print, which is a writer's medium.

What do I think about the end of SeaQuest? Well, it was kind of inevitable, wasn't it? If they had left it alone, in the hands of the people who first created it, like Rockne O'Bannon, and quit pulling on it in every possible direction, it could've been okay. Instead, the Suits got involved, and when the Suits get involved...you're dead.

"How good are your quotes?" Don't know what this means.

jms

Thanks. That's really the intent; to get people to talk about the issues raised, and to examine the issues. We won't tell you what to think about an issue, because I don't have an answer myself...but if it made you stop and consider this stuff, and decide for yourself where you fall in the discussion, then it's done its job.

jms

[Can creative writing be taught?]

The answer is yes and no. I've taught writing classes and workshops, and it is entirely possible to take someone with a good command of the language and make them publishable in the area of articles and other nonfiction. Virtually anyone can be trained. You can also learn some of the basic *techniques* of fiction. But there's a quantum jump between what is required of the two basic forms.

By the time I was done, invariably people would sell in non-fiction. The last time I did it, within 6 months of finishing the class, the percentage of those who actually pursued it (as opposed to just dropping the ball and not trying) and published was close to 100%. Fiction, ah, that's different.

When it comes time to make up your own stories, you either hear the music, or you don't. (And even if you don't, some folks can sell one or two items in their lives.)

That spark, that way of viewing the world and coming up with stories, cannot be taught I think. It's either there, or it ain't.

jms

I don't think there can *be* any praise higher than to be included in the same sentence as Serling. Of my personal pantheon of writers, he's right up there at the top. And yeah, we've had to fight the same battles to get our respective shows on the air, with the integrity we feel/felt was required for the story. But in the long run, the fight is worth it if it produces something that lasts.

About correspondents...I've heard from a number of folks, in the course of this prolonged conversation, who say they've had the courage to begin writing, or sending out what they write, because they've seen that it Can Be Done. A few of them have broken through, most have not, but it's a long process, and there's plenty of time ahead.

If the show can inspire anyone, even one person, to do more, or better, then it has achieved its purpose.

jms

I just posted a lengthy reply to this basic thread over in the Season 3 topic (which is where I first encountered it). That says pretty much everything I wanted to say on the issue.

This happens every season. Some people like shoot-em'ups and don't want to see any other stories, deriding them as "filler" and let's get to the blow-stuff-up stuff. They seem to think that anything else is "lead" which has to be gotten out. Every season begins with standalone stories, from year one to now. Year two has The Long Dark and A Distant Star and Soul Mates in the first batch up. Then we hit the big arc stories, and everybody forgot about the "lead."

In season one, we had six or seven strong arc stories. In season two, there were about 9 really strong arc episodes. In season 3, as of right now, there are 13-14 very strong arc episodes. In year 4, there will be about 17, and in year 5 they're pretty much ALL arc episodes.

The series is moving as fast as possible, and as fast as intended.

jms

Yeah, but it's very hard to do a story about preparation in the sense you suggest. "Well, let's go check out the White Star."

"Well...sure is a fast ship, all right...so, what're the Rangers doing? Keeping an eye on stuff? Good..good...so, what's for dinner?"

Each individual episode must be *about* something, must have a story that can stand on its own, separate from the arc, while adding to it. For what it's worth, "Voices of Authority," which was originally slated to run in the first 4, *is* a preparation kind of story...it gets into how they should be gearing up for what's coming, the accumulation of allies and resources, all that. Had it run as planned as #4, this would be answered. But the sheer volume of CGI required, which was pretty hideous, put it into the #5 slot, which we thought would still be in the first block of episodes. Then we found that #4 was the cutoff point.

All I can tell you is that what you're asking for is *there*, plain as can be, right in the very next batch of episodes. (Also, do bear in mind that the "shadow war" referenced in the show operates as more than just discussing the shadows themselves, but what's going on back home as well.)

jms

Thanks. No, you can't please everyone, I learned that lesson a long time ago. What you have to look at are the percentages. No matter *how* wonderful the work, there will always be a certain portion who won't like it because it isn't to their tastes. That simple. (I like bluegrass, classical, Japanese music, celtic music, hard rock, and others...can't abide straight-ahead country music or opera. That's just how I'm hardwired.) So basically, a work of superior quality will get about 40% who love it, 50% who think it's good, and 10% who hate it. A middle of the road work gets 30/30/30. A flop gets the first breakdown but in reverse. There's never been a novel, story, song or painting that everyone on the planet thought was nifty, without dissent. So as long as the percentages favor the notion that we're doing right, I'm okay with it.

As far as the assessment of this latter stuff being my best work...god, I hope so. I've been writing and selling since I was 17; in TV for a tick over 10 years, and the absolute honest truth is that I think I'm just now *starting* to get halfway decent as a writer. So many years you spend just pumping out the bad stuff, the cliche characters, the implausible plots, until you finally get to the good stuff. I write 7 days a week, 10 hours a day, 52 weeks a year, except for my birthday, my spousal overunit's birthday, christmas and new year's. I'm in constant battle with the English language, slamming together different combinations of verbs and nouns and adjectives, hoping to provoke an explosion whose flare can illustrate a notion, or incite a moment of reflection. And half the time I feel like it's a losing battle; the language beats you every time. But if script #152 is just 1% better than script #151, well, that's progress.

And then I make the mistake of sitting down and watching something by Serling or Chayefsky or Rose or Corwin, and conclude instantly that I should get out of the profession before somebody discovers I'm a fake. THOSE guys could WRITE. Hell, they didn't just write, they thunder'd and lightning'd over the typwritten page, and the echoes have followed us down for decades. So maybe someday, if I work hard, and write to the best of my ability, and am sufficiently honest in what I write, I'll be good enough to carry their pencil cases....

jms

I think that in the larger scope, many things are going to happen regardless...World War One would've almost certainly happened even without the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand, but it might have happened later, might have taken on a different form....

But there's a great deal over which we *do* have free will. Things *can* be changed; if they can't, then there's not much point to living. The characters like to think they have no choice to comfort themselves with the decisions they've already made.

jms

One of the hardest questions for any writer to answer is where did the story come from. It's often a synthesis of lots of elements that sometimes bursts through all at one shot, other times trickles out a bit here and there.

With B5, I started from wanting to do a saga, wanting to produce an SF show in a fiscally responsible manner (thus encouraging more of it), and to do real SF. The usual strategy used by other shows is the man or show on the run...going in search of new worlds, or escaping from something, or trying to get somewhere. The Immortal, Battlestar Galactica, the various Treks, The Hulk...all these and others used that approach, 'cause it's the easiest kind of story to construct, and needs the least amount of work. The downside, though, is that you end up creating a venue in which you are constantly distracting your story from your main characters by having to introduce the Alien Of The Week, or the Planet Of The Week, establish them, their culture, the problem they bring in...which leaves you very little room for real character development. And I wanted also to get into some of what's happening on Earth, do a little extrapolative writing in politics, law, criminal justice, sociology, religion, and other areas.

This led me to the notion -- used in shows like LA Law or St. Elsewhere -- of creating a place where the stories came to you, rather than vice versa. This led me to the notion of a space station, a freeport in space. Onto this, I began to stitch the notion of a saga, a war, certain mythic and archetypal constructs...anyway I was playing with all this, when one day the whole story just sorta exploded in my head. I saw the whole B5 sage, start to finish, in one big flash. I then spent the next year, as I gathered my notes, and wrote the pilot screenplay, trying to write down and clarify what I saw in that one moment of absolute clarity.

It's those notes, written in 1986/87, which formed the basis for the arc, and which I'm still using with some modifications today.

jms

Which, of course, is exactly *why* one cannot write to the current political agendas on any side of the issue, because they're transitory, they'll change in two weeks. If you start saying, "Well, this kind of person is *now* perceived THIS way this week, so I should change the story," you'll end up chasing your tail (also chasing your tale) and soon you lose all sense of direction. So you do what's right for the story, and let the chips fall where they may.

jms

[quoting the jawa / jawa #2 to jms]:

>So, like Sheridan, Ivanova wasn't a "replacement" character?

All the characters are unique; there seems to be this bone-headed notion, that I frequently run into, of "Well, Ivanova's just Takashima renamed," or "Sheridan's story is just the same as Sinclair's, same guy just renamed." They're *not* and never have been. The story of one does not devlove automatically upon the other. If you make a change, it's because you have something better in mind...otherwise why make it?

jms

[quoting robert miller to jms]:

>If Laurel had stayed on the show, would she have
>received the password by this point in the story? Who
>would then have taken over as second in command?

If Laurel *had* stayed with the show, by the middle of year two the fact that she was Control would've been revealed via the password incident. At that point, one particular possibility was that her second in command under her -- a rather dour Russian lieutenant named Ivanova -- would've been promoted to take her place, while Laurel was moved off the chessboard. (This was planned because we knew going in that Tamlyn Tomita had a growing film career, and we probably could've only kept her for a couple of years in the best of circumstances. So why not turn that to your advantage?)

The position now being occupied by Corwin, Ivanova's second, is the position that Ivanova would've held (though more prominently) if Laurel had stayed on. (And no, Corwin doesn't now have that arc lurking in the background.)

See, it's easy to stick to an outline and never diverge if you're writing characters in a novel; in a TV show, with live actors, you have to be flexible, plan ahead, come up with contingency plans, and have threads that weave and interlock in ways to leave you maximum flexibility while still proceeding toward your destination.

jms

"I *liked* Laurel!"

Well, yes, that's rather the point; tragedy is only tragedy if it happens to someone you care about and like.

jms

Jeez...where do I even start with that one...?

Okay, "how would I evaluate the work that I've done on the series to this point." (I assume this refers to the scriptwriting part of my duties, rather than the producing part.)

The first season, I think, was pretty fair. There were some rough spots here and there. There's a thing known to athletes called getting "in the zone," that's when you're absolutely on target, in the groove, whatever jargon you wish to throw in. In any first season of a show, no matter howmuch advance planning has gone into the thing, there's a shakedown period as you find out what really *does* and doesn't work. There was a fair amount of that in year one.

I think I only really popped into the "zone" a few times, with the first real such experience being "And the Sky Full of Stars." Once I hit it, I was able to find the target again a few more times that season, with "Mind War," "Babylon Squared," "Chrysalis" and a couple of others. But that was about it. I was trying to find a new way of telling a story for TV, and while I'd been thinking about it for a long time, there was never a chance to get in any *practice* because except for Power, which had a few arc aspects to it, no other show WORKS like B5 in this respect. So there was still a learning curve.

Season two, I think, I started to Get It more often, and more consistently. I'd learned a lot doing year one, and was able to apply it. I don't think I could've written "The Coming of Shadows" in year one, I just hadn't yet acquired the skills that ONLY come through practice doing this very unusual style of storytelling. I think I got into the zone a little faster, with the last four in particular being right on the mark, for what I wanted to achieve.

And as far as season three is concerned...though only 4 have aired, I'm finishing #17 right now. I usually gauge where things are by the reaction the scripts get around the set...and this season, more than any other, I've had the actors and crew come by just shaking their heads in astonish- ment at what's coming down in the pages. The folks at WB have made it a point to call and say that they're loving what they're seeing in the scripts, and that's unusual.

Subjectively -- and this opinion is the least valid, since it's colored by my own perception -- I think that at this moment, I'm doing the best work of my career to date. There's something happening in the scripts that...I can't really define. There's just something *there* that wasn't there before, or was there only sporadically. The scripts are completely taking on a life of their own. (I related elsewhere that something very major happened in "Interludes and Examinations," #15, that was never, ever in the arc, that I hadn't planned on doing when I began the script...but the damned thing just *happened*...and all I could do was watch it unfold on the page.)

Out of 17 to date, the only one that's *slightly* clunky is "Exogenesis," because it's just a little too straightforward for my tastes. I'd thought it was going to be something other than what it was; there's a writing phrase, "it's too much what it is." But it has some great character moments in it, and I think that redeems it to some extent.

But that's it, that's the only one. "Messages From Earth" may be, in my view, the best thing we've ever done. And the rest are just nifty. I'm pleased and proud and utterly astonished at how well some of this stuff has come out this season.

(I *suspect* that part of the reason for the improve- ment this season is that I'm not outlining each episode as much as before. I used to sit down and break out each act in detail, and then stick pretty strongly to that outline. Now I just sit down, knowing where I have to go with the story, and write it straight through, letting the characters take control from time to time. It takes a long time to be able to trust yourself, your ability, and your characters before you can do that in a show; finally I'm there.)

"what directions do you see the series going in now, that you might not have considered back when you first started?"

Well, it's hard to say, in large measure because of what I've reported in the paragraphs preceding. The series has taken on a life of its own now, and while I know where it's going, from time to time this great big unweildy beast throws me off and goes where it wants. And I'd be a fool if I refused to listen to that, and forced it to comply with what I'd come up with in 1987. Because that's the key thing that I've come to understand. The structure was written in 1987/88...and I'm a much better writer now than I was then. I still intend to reach the destination I'd imagined, but I've found FAR more interesting ways to get there than I could've imagined then. Remember, since 1987 I worked on the Twilight Zone, Nightmare Classics, Murder She Wrote...I've learned a lot of stuff and acquired some tools I didn't have back then.

So long answer made short...I think that the main difference is that the rest of the story is going to be more ambitious, more dramatic, more fundamentally *interesting* than I had ever hoped for. And given what was there before, that's saying a lot.

jms

[quoting trent k. johnson to jms]:

>One of the many, many things I applaud about your
>writing is not only the avoidance of technobabble, but
>avoiding techno-traps so prevalent in "the other
>shows".
>
>A case in point from "ST: Voyager": A writer (or
>writers) comes up with the idea to land the ship on a
>planet. (Earhart episode) In a subsequent episode we
>then get, "Can't transport. Can't use a shuttle.
>Hey! Let's land. Uh, we can't because, uh, yeah, the
>ground's too soft. Yeah! That's it!"
>
>sigh

"sigh" indeed....

jms

[quoting philip hornsey to jms]: >we have come to the conclusion, recently, that by the
>time it is over, B5 *may* be the exception that proves
>that general rule.

Yes, it does feel more like a novel now than anything else.

(BTW, "the exception proves the rule" is a bastardiza- tion of the original Latin phrase, "exceptio probat regulum" (from memory), which means "the exception puts the rule to the test of proof.")

jms

[quoting tom knudsen to jms]:

> <(btw, "the exception proves the rule" is a
>bastardization of the original Latin phrase, "exceptio
>probat regulum" (from memory), which means "the
>exception puts the rule to the test of proof.")>
>
> You've been getting a lot of use out of that
>tidbit of knowledge lately, haven't you?

I paid for this college education, and by god I'm going to use it for SOMEthing.

Odd that this particular phrase has cropped up so much in recent weeks. Another bugaboo of mine is the use of the word "less" when what the person means to say is "fewer." "There are less people here today." No, "There are *fewer* people here today." There are very few things about which I will actually correct someone in the course of speaking, not wishing to be overly pedantic...but this is one of them. The other is when I see a sign that says FOR "SALE"...well, is it for sale or isn't it?

Anal retentive? Moi?

jms

Actually, Mike Vejar is directing the two-parter, and I'm absolutely thrilled about it; Mike's been our mainstay for some time, and he's just terrific. (He directed "Convic- tions," and "Inquisitor.")

Adam was great in that he's a *very* serious director who sits down and really thinks through the subtext of the episode, the thematic aspects, the underlying symbology, and then sits with the actor and *really* works with them so that they fully understand the nuances of the scene. A lot of TV direction can be rushed...you're always under the gun...so it's rare to find someone who really takes his time and prepares the cast.

"Does the pressure come from within, or does it come from without and the reaction of the fans of the series?"

From within. There's nothing I've ever seen on any net that's half as critical of this show as what's said by we who make it. If you try to gauge a show, any show, and determine its direction by viewer reactions, you're going to have pudding, because there are too many divergent reactions. It becomes one massive committee...and committees are the death of any creative process.

I'm making this show, first and foremost, for myself, on the theory that what I find interesting, others may also find of interest. And I'm a perfectionist. Also a pain in the ass. Also monomanaical. Just getting a show this big, this involved, this visually complex *made* is a task of Herculean proportions...let alone getting it made *well*.

I've always been a very driven personality; I try never to settle for second best. If it can't be done just a little better than what we did last week, why the hell are we doing it? There *has* to be constant evolution, constant growth, constant challenge, or you're dead creatively. You've got to be absolutely willing to knock all your support pins out from under you, in the belief that your skills will enable you to land somewhere interesting on your feet. The moment you *stop* taking that risk...you're finished. At least, that's what I feel about it.

This show is probably my one real chance to leave a mark that I passed this way, so it has to be as good as I can humanly make it. And nothign will ever get in the way of that.

jms