Over the past year, I took a TV writing course as a part of my MFA in Creative Writing through the University of British Columbia. During that course, we studied the art of writing teleplays, and during the course we produced a spec script, and an original pilot spec. A spec script is a TV writer's calling card, as it is what shows the agents and TV execs that you can actually write, and write well. A spec is a script is also based on an existing television show, and the reason for this is that if you can show that you have captured the tone and feel of a show that is not yours, then you can theoretically write for any show.
I don't believe I'll ever be a TV writer, as much as I'd like to be, because family commitments prevent me from trying to climb that ladder. But still, I found I enjoyed writing this form.
What follows is not fan fiction, I want to be clear about that, but is my own original spec script for the show Monk.
ACT ONE
INT. DOCTOR BELL'S OFFICE - DAY
MONK is hunched over in his chair, holding his head in his hands. DOCTOR BELL is leaning back, listening intently.
MONK
It doesn't matter. Nothing matters.
Doctor Bell leans forward, patiently, and starts talking.
DOCTOR BELL
What doesn't matter?
MONK
Nothing. It's no use.
Monk is rocking back and forth slightly. He puts his hands on his knees, and is leaning forward, looking at his feet.
DOCTOR BELL
I...I got that. I meant what do you mean by "it"?
MONK
Everything.
DOCTOR BELL
Everything? You said nothing?
MONK
Everything is nothing.
DOCTOR BELL
Everything?
MONK
Nothing.
DOCTOR BELL
I see.
Doctor Bell leans back in his chair, and sighs.
Monk leans back in his chair, and sighs.
MONK
Today is the day...Trudy...
DOCTOR BELL
Ah...the anniversary of her passing.
MONK
Dying. She didn't pass, she died. Passing is having all your friends around you as you say goodbye and breathe out one last time.
DOCTOR BELL
It happened, what, fifteen years ago? That's a long time.
MONK
Fifteen years is a long time. It's a long time to come to here every week, it's a long time to be alone, it's a long time to not... have found the man behind my wife's murder.
DOCTOR BELL
But you found her killer. Wasn't that the man with six fingers?
MONK
Yes. No. I mean, the man behind the man behind my wife's murder.
Monk looks up in despair.
DOCTOR BELL
Adrian, I want you to look at it a different way. In your time as a detective you've made a difference in the lives of many people, and in the short time I've known you, you've made great progress. And while you will always mourn Trudy, what you've accomplished is something to celebrate.
Monk shakes his head and sighs.
MONK
I don't know.
INT. MONK'S APARTMENT - DAY
Monk has a picture of Trudy on the kitchen table. He is staring at it, unblinking.
NATALIE is moving around the living room, packing small items into a box.
NATALIE
Mr. Monk? I have an idea.
Monk looks up, curious.
MONK
Natalie? What are you doing?
NATALIE
Nothing. Just tidying up a little.
Monk leaves the kitchen. He looks at the box Natalie is holding. He looks around the room. Then he looks at Natalie, suspicious.
MONK
Natalie? What's in the box?
Natalie doesn't move. Monk lunges at the box.
MONK (CONT'D)
Natalie! What are you doing?!
Natalie twists away from Monk. He can't reach the box.
NATALIE
It's for your own good, Mr. Monk. If you keep staring at things that remind you of Trudy all day, you'll never get over her.
Monk gets his hand on the box. They struggle over it.
MONK
Maybe I don't want to get over her!
NATALIE
Yes you do. You need to move on!
MONK
I'm fine where I am! Give them back!
NATALIE
No!
There is a knock at the door. The door opens. RANDY steps in, followed by a woman.
RANDY
Hello? Monk?
Natalie and Monk continue bickering.
MONK
Give it back! Give...it...back!
NATALIE
No!...It's for your own good.
Monk looks at Randy. Natalie looks also.
RANDY
Everything okay in here?
Monk yanks the box out of Natalie's hands. Monk and Natalie reply at the same time.
MONK
Yes!
NATALIE
No!
Randy looks confused.
RANDY
Ohh...kay...Sorry to interrupt, but I, my friend, sorry, needs help. I mean, your help! If that's okay.
MRS. CASEY raises a hand in greeting.
MRS. CASEY
Hi.
Natalie shows them in. Mrs. Casey sits on the couch. Randy stands.
RANDY
Were, um, we're kind of next door neighbors. Well, we are next door neighbors, actually, but I'm usually busy, and we have different schedules, so we don't really get, you know, a chance to...
NATALIE
We get the picture. Why don't you come in and tell us what happened.
Mrs. Casey is crying. Natalie passes hear a tissue. Monk is preoccupied with the box.
RANDY
Well, I don't know, exactly. I'll let Mrs. Casey tell you.
Monk puts the box on a table. He takes out items one by one, looks around the room, and puts them back.
MRS. CASEY
It's about my son, Ken. They're saying it was suicide, but I don't believe it.
NATALIE
I'm so sorry. What happened?
MRS. CASEY
He's always been a watcher, you know? So observant. He'd sit there and watch people, and just keep watching them. Just by watching he could tell you so much about someone. It was a gift.
Monk looks over at Mrs. Casey.
MONK
And a curse.
MRS. CASEY
Pardon?
MONK
It's a gift...And a curse.
Monk goes back to putting the items where they belong.
NATALIE
Sorry. He can be like that sometimes. What else happened?
Mrs. Casey gestures for another tissue. Natalie hands her the whole box.
MRS. CASEY
It's my fault! He was a watcher, you know. Trouble talking to others. I didn't want my Ken to be alone for the rest of his life. He's so sweet but just too shy. So I got him some help.
NATALIE
What kind of help?
MRS. CASEY
I sent him to this place. Sunnyland. There was a Doctor there who said he could help us. And I believed him.
Natalie waves at Monk. He doesn't seem to notice.
MRS. CASEY (CONT'D)
They said Doctor Randall worked miracles. Everyone I knew swore by him. And I believed him too. They all have relatives at Sunnyland, and it's really is a nice place.
Natalie clears her throat at Monk. He doesn't seem to hear her.
NATALIE
Mr. Monk?
Monk does not look over. He keeps arranging the items.
MONK
Sunnyland. Sounds nice. Sunny place. Sounds warm.
Natalie scowls.
NATALIE
Mr. Monk!
RANDY
Well, actually, it is kind of warm. I was just down there, and they have a good interior decorator.
Natalie glares at Randy, looks back at Mrs. Casey.
NATALIE
So how did your son die?
MRS. CASEY
That's the thing. They said he overdosed on medication. But he wasn't taking any medication. And he was supposed to be coming home today.
NATALIE
But why do you think he was murdered?
MRS. CASEY
Because he knew something.
NATALIE
What did he know?
MRS. CASEY
He...I can't say. I guess maybe that's why I need your help.
NATALIE
What do you think, Mr. Monk?
Monk looks at a small ledge, and at a picture frame in his hand.
MONK
Cleaned.
NATALIE
He was killed, not cleaned.
MONK
Most people know where to put things because there's a ring of dust where the things are supposed to go. Who ever thought that being clean would be such a problem?
Natalie sighs.
NATALIE
We're talking about Mrs. Casey's son, Ken.
MONK
But I don't have any dust! So how do I know where things are supposed to go? And she's lying, or not telling us something.
Mrs. Casey looks shocked, then angry.
MRS. CASEY
Why would I?
MONK
Because you did it, or you think you're responsible. Either way, you're feeling guilty about something. Where does this go?
NATALIE
Mr. Monk, that picture was right there. Just put it down. What do you mean?
MONK
Where? Here?
Monk holds the picture an inch above the ledge.
MONK (CONT'D)
Or here?
Monk moves the frame an inch.
MONK (CONT'D)
How am I supposed to know where it goes? Most people tell their suspicions right away.
Monk moves his head from side to side. He scans the ledge closely.
MONK (CONT'D)
She didn't.
Monk puts the picture down, shifts it and shifts it back. Natalie grabs her purse; pulls out an eyeliner pencil.
NATALIE
You know what? I have an idea.
Natalie walks over to the ledge, and writes a small "x". She grabs the picture from Monk and puts it on the "x".
NATALIE (CONT'D)
See! Problem solved.
Monk stares at Natalie in disbelief.
MONK
You don't know if that's the right spot!
Monk tries to move the picture frame. Natalie brushes his hand away.
NATALIE
Ah, ah! Haven't you ever heard, Mr. Monk? X marks the spot!
MONK
But how do you know that's the right spot?
NATALIE
Because there's an "x" on it!
Natalie holds up her hands.
NATALIE (CONT'D)
See! Problem solved. Now why don't we let Mrs. Casey finish telling us her story?
Mrs. Casey looks angry. Randy looks uncomfortable. Randy pulls out a phone. He reads a message.
RANDY
Sorry, I got to go. Stottlemeyer wants me to meet up with him right away. Can you take her? I'll meet you there later.
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