I was thinking about an episode of Spooks. It's from the second season, when the characters have found their stride a bit. That doesn't matter. But the story in it is memorable beyond the show itself. So then I started to think about singular episodes (of different shows) that really stand out as amazing stories in themselves.

Spooks 2-05: I Spy Apocalypse
"End of the world, end of the world, end of the world."

What initially seems like a routine training exercise becomes terrifying as the our team of British MI-5 officers (spies) start to suspect that it isn't just an exercise but a dirty bomb has really exploded and killed most of London. Even though within the realm of the television series you *know* they can't be serious, the way the story is presented and the way the episode is acted means there's a lot of tension anyway. It's cinematic to the point where you start to believe it's possible. And tension between the agents in an increasingly desperate situation is great and horrible to watch.

But what clinches it as the episode to knock your socks off is after the exercise is over, when they're meant to celebrate and drink champagne, and still nobody can quite relax. Someone's calling their mom, someone else is just about throwing up. And our hero calls his girlfriend, whom he was supposed to meet for lunch, and she's just furious at him for standing her up. She says she was sitting in the restaurant alone and everyone was laughing at her. And he says, Right, You were sitting in a fancy restaurant alone thinking that this is the *worst* thing that can ever happen to you.

Owch and yikes. Kind of makes you want to go out for dinner and be happy that someone else is running the world.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer 6-06: Once More With Feeling
"Math. It seemed cooler when we were singing about it."

Instead of the regular teaser, theme song, and episode, our heroes break into song right away. Then they spend most of the episode singing their hearts out. Joss Whedon admitted both that he'd always wanted to do a musical episode, and also that it was the perfect way to get free of all the secrets that had been building up since the last season. And it worked, both as a musical (the music is TOO catchy) and as a way to reveal everything. So it's wonderful to watch for both reasons.

And what other television show ever in the whole history of ever has tried such a thing?

Highlander 5-13 & 5-13: Comes a Horseman & Revelations 6:8
"I was the nightmare that kept them awake at night. Is that what you want to hear?

This show was about immortals and the coolest immortal of all was Methos. He was coolest because he was funny, smart, and really really old. Fans loved him. Then one day the writers decided to make it so he was actually one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse, which is to say, once upon a time he was a horrible person who raped, robbed, massacred, and generally made the life of every mortal he met short and and horrifying. But he's not anymore. Honest!

And it *so* worked. Hold that scenario up to the eyes of a protagonist who can't stand evil and has a hard time with forgiveness, and you've got some fantastic conflict. Suddenly the guy he was looking up to as "old enough to know better, and to learn from" has a past worse than any villain he's fought. Give the audience a little confusion about whether Methos is now going back to his old ways, add another three horsemen of long-gone apocalypses... apocolii...? (like Buffy, I now need to know the plural of apocalypse.) And it's a rocking episode about loyalty, forgiveness, second chances, and blah blah blah.

Scrubs 1-15: My Bed Banter and Beyond
"And, bam! The shine's off the apple."

J.D. and Elliot sleep together the first time. Hooray it's great! They love each other SO MUCH! Give them a few days and it all goes to crap. Their descent into reality is punctuated with scenes from that first night they had together, complete with all their ideas about how great it's going to be, and also interviews with most other staff members about why they became doctors. The interviews also end up going into other people's relationships, inevitably intersecting with what's going on with J.D. and Elliot, and revealing a lot about how romance starts out, how it goes along, how it can crash and spectacularly burn, and all the rest.

It's heartbreaking to see the characters' hopes and disappointments right next to each other, and also hopeful to hear about how nobody is alone anywhere in any relationship - someone has always been there before, and for them it worked, or it didn't. The show is about real relationships, not contrived ones. It's funny and sad and pretty much my favourite episode of the entire series, as well as my favourite relationship-oriented episode of any show. Sometimes when I'm a bit confused about my own feelings I go back to some of the advice given in this episode. Is that wise? Meh.

Boston Legal 1-17: Death Be Not Proud
"You may not be convinced of his innocence, but you cannot be convinced of his guilt. And given that, how can you kill him? How can you kill him?"

Alan Shore, lawyer extraordinaire, tries to help a friend appeal the sentence of a man who is about to be executed in Texas. Although the man has a severely sub-average IQ, cannot remember the crime, there was very little evidence, and no one else was ever investigated, he was interrogated at length when arrested and convinced/brainwashed that he did it. His confession is compounded by the effort of the prison clergy, who are sure to insist each inmate feel they deserve to die so they don't go to hell. Despite all efforts at several hearings, they fail. The man is going to die, guilty or otherwise.

Regardless of your opinion on the death penalty, this is a fascinating episode to watch. When the lawyers are unable to save the man, Alan asks him to show those watching what it feels like to be executed. The court is trying to make it into a clinical thing, he says, something peaceful and simple, when the reality is that someone is dying, being killed, and whether anyone agrees with the death penalty or otherwise, they should know what that looks like. At first it seems that the man won't comply, but then as he's being strapped into the chair he begins to fight, to rail against his own death. It's a profoundly disturbing scene and I have to agree: for or against, it is right to know what it looks like. It is right to keep the reality forefront in your mind, rather than the ideal.

House M.D. 1-21: Three Stories
"I'm sure this goes against everything you've been taught, but right and wrong do exist."

In the penultimate episode of the first season we finally find out exactly what happened to Dr. Gregory House's bad leg. Via three extremely different former patients with three suspiciously similar leg problems, he manages to narrate his history to a room full of student doctors, a few interested co-workers, at least one friend, and an ex-girlfriend. The latter, it turns out, is the reason he can't walk: she made the call against his wishes when he was unconscious. And one of the patients he's talking about is him.

This episode came out back before the show became too popular and House became too complicated. He was a jerk, and we wanted to know why. His leg always hurt, and we wanted to know why. Simple. And this very complicated story tells the very simple story. It's about betrayal.

Star Trek: The Next Generation 2-09: The Measure of a Man
"Your honor, Starfleet was founded to seek out new life. Well, there it sits. Waiting."

So Data was created by a human. Does that mean he's any human's possession? Does his enrollment in Starfleet mean he belongs to Starfleet? Can he quit? Is he even alive? The proposal of dangerous tests on his brain lead to a trial where Data's right to life is debated between Captain Picard and Command Riker. Riker is forced to do a good job of proving his friend is just a thing. And if Picard loses, Data gets dissected. In the process of proving his life, his whole identity has to be revealed, no matter how private. And in the process of proving Data's sentience, the entire definition of the word is evaluated. So, too, is humankind's reaction to creatures "less alive" (or "less human") than they are. From androids to slavery, the debate slides everywhere.

This episode should make you feel something, whether it's righteous, angry, sad, or relieved. Like so much of science fiction, it uses the non-human to evaluate what is human. Perspective is everything.

As a writer of novels I have a pretty good grasp of the creative process that happens when one person works on a story, works with characters, changes the world and tries to make it right. I'm lucky because I get to write the entire thing then go back and edit it to figure out what doesn't work. I get to smooth it out and add or remove bits and pieces of plot that otherwise would wreck the flow of the story.

Writers of television shows apparently must collaborate with a bunch of other people for each storyline. Also, they might have a few shows written, shot, and released before they know exactly where they're going with the season arc (if there is a season arc.) I can't imagine being in this situation and staying sane. Considering how attentive good fans can be (and going by some of the trivia posted here in TV.com, some fans are damned attentive) it's impossible not to screw up here and there. And they'll be watching your every move.

Last season's writers' strike had a lot of shows finishing up in places they never intended to go. Bones is a good example. It's been said that the grand finale of Zack being Gormogon's apprentice was pulled out of the air to give the season an exciting ending. Many of the fans were not impresed. Not only did the whole thing seem out of character for Zack, with almost no lead-up to the reveal, but fans didn't want to lose the character. It was a cheat.

This season's first few episodes show that the writers may be trying to make up for that by placing new reasons/excuses/changes to last year's events. Whether it will end up feeling justified or contrived will be revealed as the season goes on, by fan reaction.

Some shows tie in to just one person's vision of the story, and I think they benefit from that. J. Michael Straczynski imagined Babylon 5 as a five year arc, and that worked even though it was almost cancelled and then renewed at the end of season 4. Joss Whedon has been rumoured to plan well in advance, and finding details placed years before the payoff is a good passtime for those who have seen all of Buffy the Vampire Slayer ten times over. And Eric Kripke, creator of Supernatural, is on record as saying he has a five year plan. There are still a lot of writers and imaginations contributing to the stories so I'm not trying to take away credit where credit is due. But the fact that there is a unified vision of some sort is a plus, I feel. At least, it is in my experience.

Or maybe I just don't work very well with others.