Prosecutor: “You killed her, didn’t you!”

Defendant: “No, no. I’m innocent.”

Prosecutor: “Admit it. Your DNA was all over the maid!”

Defendant: “Alright, alright. I did it. Now, please. Let go of my throat.”

There’s no secret to writing riveting screenplays for television. I should know. I’ve written thousands of them. From Naked Homicide and The Streets of Wichita, Kansas to every conceivable flavor of Law & Order and CSI series known to man. I’ve won 37 Emmys, 15 Golden Globes and have been nominated for more than a dozen Academy Awards, 6 Tonys, and 3 Grammys.

But, as I get on in years, I feel compelled to share some of my secrets, so you too can write compelling police, courtroom, and crime scene investigation dramas and make as much money as I have. All you need to do is apply a few of my award-winning secrets.

Common elements in all police dramas

Ever since I wrote the first script for the wildly successful police series, Frankie Champagne, P.I. in 1961, television crime dramas have depended on five essential elements to breathe life into their stories:

· A filthy, noisy police station with cops coming out of the woodwork

· A pissed off chief of detectives, facing his fourth divorce and an Internal Affairs investigation, shouting obscenities at everyone who dares to venture into his office

· A brash new detective committed to doing everything by the book

· A smarmy confidential informant with a name like Iggy, Squiggy, or Wiggy

· An endless stream of hookers, drug addicts, and murderers trying to squirm through a convoluted legal system

Virtually every police station on television is a cesspool of activity. Even Sheriff Taylor’s office on the Andy Griffith Show had an infinite stream of visitors running in and out of the Mayberry Sheriff’s sub-station. Everyone from Aunt Bee dropping off apple pies, to Thelma Lou reminding Andy about the big dance that night.

Opie could be a numbers runner after school for Floyd the barber, while Gomer Pyle runs a chop shop for stolen vehicles.

Wherever possible, make sure each of your characters flouts a conflicting backstory that motivates them to do something that’s not quite copacetic. For instance, you might want to make Barney Fife an out-of-control alcoholic, struggling to cover up his underground network of backwoods stills all through the hills of North Carolina. Opie could be a numbers runner after school for Floyd the barber, while Gomer Pyle runs a chop shop for stolen vehicles. It’s easy! Just let your imagination soar.

Common elements in all courtroom stories

· A burned-out, overweight district attorney with rows of bad hair plugs who stews on his ass all day

· A confrontational assistant district attorney, threatening the suspects he’s reduced to charging

· A hot looking, subservient female assistant, fresh out of NYU Law School

· A private investigator named Slick, Nick, or Trick who was once a convicted felon

· An overweight, hard of hearing judge dangling on the end of his career

Let’s face it. In and of themselves, courtrooms aren’t the most exciting places to spend an hour, let alone an entire television series. So, to infuse drama into your screenplays, write challenges for a capricious assistant district attorney, who’s constantly on the edge between complete success and unmitigated failure. Each murder trial should make the difference between their promotion to DA or 15-to-life for hindering prosecution.

Today’s television viewers aren’t interested in seeing someone get ahead. They want to watch shows riddled with so many problems, their own lives seem like a romp down the yellow brick road.

Try to include every conceivable legal malfeasance known to man on both sides of the law, from jury tampering to having sex with the court reporter. If you run out of ideas, throw in a methamphetamine problem and a pending divorce —something all viewers can relate to.

What ever you do, avoid writing for success. Today’s television viewers aren’t interested in seeing someone get ahead. They want to watch shows riddled with so many problems, their own lives seem like a romp down the yellow brick road.

Common elements in all crime scene investigation dramas

· A frenzied lead crime scene investigator who looks like he sleeps in the clothes he buys at Target

· A sizzling female crime lab investigator with big hooters straining against the top button of her lab coat

· A nerdy, goofball computer expert covered in tattoos

· Lots of complicated procedures and terms that nobody understands

· Glass everywhere: the walls, the table, and even the floor

It’s no secret that writing scripts for crime scene investigation series can be challenging. Every hick-town and metropolitan city from Casper’s Gulch, Wyoming to Miami, Florida already has a CSI series patterned after them. The good news is that since there are already so many, no one will object to you writing one more.

What viewers do want to see is CSI lab techs romping around the heart of Miami with their guns drawn or waist-deep in the alligator-infested Everglades

The first thing to remember is CSI shows have nothing to do with crime labs. Viewers don’t want to spend sixty minutes watching a technician look through a microscope or explaining the intricacies of DNA identification. Nor do they want to watch a bio-hazard team cleaning exploded brain matter off the walls following a mass murder.

What viewers do want to see is CSI lab techs romping around the heart of Miami with their guns drawn or waist-deep in the alligator-infested Everglades, looking for the one-and-only ballpoint pen with the killer’s fingerprints on it.

These days, with all of the conflicts of contemporary life and seamy personalities scamming to get rich, there’s no end to the number of award-winning police, legal, and CSI stories waiting for you to write.

Just take a realistic and believable story, then twist the heck out of it by adding a series of negative, heart-wrenching conflicts. You’ll be on your way to awards and more money than you can imagine.