Dramedy with Ria Russell, March 2025

Ria Russell attended a dramedy class given by two Hollywood writers at a writing conference, and brought the experience to us all through a news article (ironically an NBC (peacock) article about a “therapy peacock” and it’s owner being refused permission to fly). We all had access to the article before the meeting and everyone had read it, so we were able to go straight into the “writers’ room” to plan our script.

Tone and Style

What’s the tone or style of the piece (any piece) you are writing? Where does it fall between humorous and serious. It’s a spectrum. But it’s best to know what balance you’re looking for before you start to write. This keeps you focused and helps you avoid (or remove during editing) distractions to the story.

You can start with documentary (watching scene through many pairs of eyes). Good place for lots of humor. Then move into backstory and pathos (but keep the balance). End with? Humor? Triumph? Excitement? Romance? Much to discuss

Universal Themes

We mentioned well-known dramedies such as

  • Mash
  • The wonder years
  • The Princess Bride
  • Nebraska and
  • Stranger Than Fiction

And universal themes such as

  • revenge
  • romance
  • separation
  • danger

Then looked for themes in our planned story

  • Stress of flying (meltdowns)
  • What can I take through TSA
  • Will I get where I’m going safely
  • polarization of onlookers
  • “the genuine issue of wanting more out of life, and that any potential possibility of change can inspire you to do something about it.”

Acts

Our piece will have a 3 or 4 act structure for a one-hour TV show. So should your writing.

  • Beginning. Start with something eye-catching—something that makes the audience watch/read. Here we start with a peacock in an airport.
  • Middle. Here’s where we address the audience’s questions. Why is she carrying a peacock? Why does she need a therapy animal? We considered making this two parts. Some kind of childhood trauma (causing a preference for peacocks over dogs?), followed by the choice of therapy animal as an adult. But we didn’t want to make it too dramatic—too heavy (as that would change the balance).
  • End. We knew we’d need an ending, but left discussing this till later. Which turned out to be a good idea. Some writers insist on knowing where a story is going before they start, but many of us don’t, and we didn’t in this instance.

Dialog

Dialog drives a story and a play. We knew we would need time to discuss dialog.

Workshopping the beginning

  • Could have a documentary style and interview people watching the peacock girl. Interview the girl herself (but how old is she, and what is she wearing—clothes with bright colors like the peacock?)
  • Serious moments—access denied? Getting escorted off the plane?
  • Humorous moments—a stressed peacock can be very loud and messy

Possible scenes

  • Walking into the airport/through the airport with a peacock on her shoulder (does she overbalance?)
  • How does the peacock react to people?
  • How does she get through security (hands in air, peacock on shoulder, bag on machine)?
  • Is she using social media to get attention? Could have a scene of supporters gathering outside PDX?
  • Is the peacock even real? Could have a scene of her controlling it, collecting info (spying?) Or would this be a distraction (have to keep the balance)

We can roll the opening credits as the camera watches her and watches people’s reactions. But what is the “writing” equivalent of rolling the credits. This is the “telling” part of a story, and we need a balance between showing and telling in what we write. Not everything has to be “shown”.

Possible dialog

Various segments of dialog will drive the first part of the story:

  • Dialog with ticket agents (does peacock need an ID?)
  • Dialog with other passengers (are noisy babies preferable to peacocks on a plane?)
  • Can peacock be included in dialog—fanning its tail perhaps?

Dialog is the “showing” part. And workshopping the dialog helped us get more deeply involved in the story, which makes sense. First drafts of fiction and memoir are often dialog heavy, then edited (by you, the author) to include the emotion (that will be shown by actors here).

Dialog also created a question about the end of the story—would they suggest putting the peacock in the cargo hold? Would peacock girl insist on traveling in the hold as well? Would they survive, and would the question of whether or not they could survive distract the audience and make them switch off?

Workshopping the Middle

We can go from the ridiculous to

  • the absurd (comedy), or
  • the dramatic (dramedy), but
  • NOT to the banal.

So here’s where the backstory and answers to questions comes in. But only the relevant part of the backstory (remember that balance thing). So

  • Why is she traveling? To see her granddaughter who wants to see her peacock? To see her daughter? (But how old is she?) To see her grandfather who gave her a peacock egg?
  • Where is she traveling? Canada, Iowa. Canada might involve questions of importing livestock, but this isn’t relevant to our story, so we choose Iowa. (Both might have peacock farms)
  • Why a peacock? Could be she saw one at the Oregon DEQ (but does she drive?) She thinks they’re pretty? Or peacocks are the only thing that calm her. Or someone was going to eat an egg and she hatched it instead (but if it’s too implausible, the audience switches off). Or her grandfather gave her an egg and she’s raised it as her own—thinks she’s the peacock’s mom… Maybe raising the peacock was the only thing she ever did right?

Now we’re getting some idea of who she’s going to be. Looking for a consistent set of answers, we have her in her early 20s, got a peacock egg at 13, and we name her Penny. (The peacock, according to the article, is called Dexter.)

And now we can come up with dialog that fills in more of her character. Grandfather’s arrived and wants to give her something. She doesn’t want to come downstairs. Mother’s complaining about how Penny gets bullied at school. Penny wants a cellphone? She gets a peacock egg… (Humor)

And now we have a montage replacing that 3rd act.

  • Bullies at school
  • caring for egg
  • peacock imprints on her
  • peacock follows her to school
  • Bullies driven away by peacock
  • car accident after getting her license, no more driving (or is this a distraction)
  • sees peacock at DMV but can’t face driving (But do we need this: not all good ideas will be included in anything you write)
  • buying tickets for Penny and Dexter to fly

Workshopping the End

She can end up in the hold with the peacock—potential tragedy (not dramedy)

A pilot can offer to fly her in his private plane and fall in love with her—romance, but probably involves too many more scenes and falls outside the 1-hour story. (Often our short stories open up into novels or novellas, and here our 1-hour drama could open into a series.)

She can decide to drive—rent a car. But are we sure she can drive?

She can rent an uber—and the uber driver says no peacocks—brings the story full circle, and audience doesn’t need to know what happens next. Roll credits over her arguing with the uber driver. (And again, rolling credits is like telling—we won’t need all the words, all the emotions, all the humor and pathos; just a glimpse is enough).

And the Final Product

Ria will take the notes from our workshop and turn them into a script in time for us to include it in this year’s anthology. The anthology submission deadline is the end of the first Sunday in August.

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