Flash and Bones

really as bad as her colleagues say? Should she steer clear as everyone advises?

Nope. No spoilers here.

5. Flash and Bones, as with all your books, contains unique forensic twists: the body found at the dump is lodged in a barrel of asphalt, which Tempe must painstakingly dismantle. Later, chemical tests at the CDC reveal the presence of a surprising toxin in the remains. What was the inspiration for these forensic discoveries? Have you seen such corpses in your real-life work, or, in writing your novels, do you imagine the strange possibilities of homicides you haven’t yet encountered?

I am like a scavenger, always on the lookout for a snack. But instead of food, it’s criminal twists I’m after. I keep my eyes and ears open for interesting characters, bizarre case elements, and cutting-edge science. A Temperance Brennan plot may derive from any number of sources.

Starting point. I draw ideas from forensic anthropology analyses that I perform myself. My own cases.

Move one circle out. The LSJML (my Montreal gig) is a full-spectrum medico-legal and crime lab. While there I am able to observe what goes on around me, to learn about the newest thing in ballistics, toxicology, pathology, or DNA.

Continue outward. Forensic scientists love to talk to each other about their cases. Colleagues often suggest ideas for Temperance Brennan stories based on investigations in which they have been involved.

Occasionally a plot twist is inspired by a presentation I attend at a professional conference. The annual meeting of the American Academy of Forensic Sciences provides particularly rich fodder. Articles in research journals also get the old brain pumping.

From my own caseload, and then from conversing, listening, watching, and reading, I get what I think of as “nugget” ideas, my core story concepts. Then, for both legal and ethical reasons, I change everything—names, dates, places, personal details. I then play the “what if?” game, and spin the nugget off into multilayered fiction.

6. In addition to writing the Temperance Brennan novels (and now the young adult novels featuring Tempe’s niece), you’ve also written a script for the FOX series Bones, based on your books. How does writing a TV script differ from writing your novels? Is one harder than the other?

I am a producer on Bones. One of many. Just look at our credits. Mainly, I work with the writers, answering questions, providing bone clues, correcting terminology. Over the course of six seasons, I have read more than one hundred and thirty scripts. Though a television script is quite different from a book, there is some commonality.

For me the similarity between a Temperance Brennan novel and a Bones teleplay lies in structure. My books typically have a lot going on—an A story, a B story, maybe even a C. Ditto a Bones episode.

In Flash and Bones Tempe is asked to identify a body found in a barrel. That’s the A story. Simultaneously, she is drawn into the search for a missing teenage couple. The B story. And, all the while, there’s her complicated love life. C story.

In the season five Bones episode that I wrote, “The Witch in the Wardrobe,” two sets of remains are discovered in a burned-out house. The witch in the wardrobe turns out to have been dead for quite some time. A story. The witch under the foundation is identified as a recent homicide victim. B story. Angela and Hodgins go to jail (and love rekindles). C story. The structures are very similar, you see.

On the other hand, a novel and a script differ in many ways. For example, with film or television there’s no need for detailed description of setting or action. Those features are right there in front of your eyes. A screenplay or teleplay is all about dialogue, character, and story line.

Another difference involves the creative experience. When I write a novel, I am the stereotypical loner working at my keyboard in isolation. No one helps me. No one approves or disapproves my work. Not so the television writer.

Once a story idea (kind of like my “nugget” concept) is accepted, the next step is called “breaking the story.” For one to three weeks the entire Bones writing staff brainstorms together, hammering out an outline act by act, scene by scene, working on erasable white boards that cover the walls of the writers’ room. The process is collective, and it is exhilarating.

(The Bones writing team is awesome. Josh Berman, Pat Charles, Carla Kettner, Janet Lin, Dean Lopata, Michael Peterson, Karine Rosenthal, Karyn Usher. Thanks for your patience, guys.)

The completed script outline is then “pitched”—in the case of Bones to Hart Hanson, our genius creator and executive producer.

Once the outline is approved, the writer then “goes to script.” That means back to the lonely keyboard to produce what is called the writer’s draft. That stage takes one to three weeks. Unless the show is behind schedule. In that case, well, good luck.

Then there are rewrites. And more rewrites. Studio draft. Network draft. Production draft.

In the end it is amazing to see your episode actually being shot, with all the actors, the director, the gaffers, the grips, and the best boys. Lights! Camera! Action!

Almost as amazing as seeing your baby on the printed page.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4