The People v. O.J. Simpson: American Crime Story could have been terrible. It probably should have. It’s an anthology series from the guy who gave us Glee, starring Boat Trip‘s Cuba Gooding, Jr., about a fatigued trial we already knew the verdict for. Plus, this instantly-iconic photo. Instead, American Crime Story turned into one of the best, most entertaining shows of the year.

How did this happen?

Well, that instantly-iconic photo helped (it stirred up interest in the series, even if, because of the picture, most thought it would be a trainwreck), as did Sarah Paulson’s heartbreaking performance as Marcia Clark, and Courtney B. Vance’s equally fantastic Johnnie Cochran. But beyond American Crime Story serving as a wonderful showcase for lengthy, scenery-chewing monologues, Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski, with help from producer Ryan Murphy, created something that was a just-right mix of over-the-top camp and prestige drama. In other words, it’s what Murphy’s American Horror Story has been trying to be since, well, season one. Here are some lessons American Horror Story, which returns to FX this fall, should learn from American Crime Story.

Stay focused

Pay attention to this! No wait, look at that! Just kidding, your focus ought to be over there! Commercial break. Lady Gaga’s doing something! Now here!

That’s what it’s like watching American Horror Story, the most easily distractible show on television. Every scattered act is telling three stories at once, and the whole thing ends up being a mess of half-thought-out ideas. When American Horror Story slows down, it can accomplish great things, like the “I Am Anne Frank” two-parter from Asylum. Those episodes were focused and clear-eyed, despite the ridiculous premise. But a lot of great art sounds ridiculous on paper. “A space farmer befriends two robots and saves a princess who turns out to be his sister from their heavy-breathing father with the help of a rogue whose last name is Solo — GET IT — and his giant dog-thing.” Who’d want to see that movie? However, when the same film is redescribed as “a young hero saves the galaxy,” you get Star Wars. Every episode of American Crime Story can be summed up in a few words — “the jury episode,” “the glove episode,” “the race card episode.” The same can’t be said about American Horror Story, because it would take too long to say.

Characters over shock

Murder homes. Nuthouses. Witches. Creepy carnivals. Creepier hotels.

These settings play off common phobias, whether it’s the fear of being held against your will (Asylum), or being surrounded by hundreds of strangers who could creep into your room at night (Hotel). But on American Horror Story, the danger never feels real. For starters, it’s hard to sustain a sense of dread for 12 hours, which is how long the average season lasts. Also, there’s no one to root for, a necessity for any horror show or movie that wants to be taken seriously. Taissa Farmiga tried to be the audience surrogate in Coven, but she had much less screen presence than the incomparable Jessica Lange and Sarah Paulson. We need someone to sympathize with, someone to guide us through the show. On American Crime Story, that was Paulson’s Marcia Clark. Her integrity was never undercut for an easy laugh, or sold out for a cheap “OMG” moment for the Twitter crowd. Even Travolta’s cartoonish Robert Shapiro was allowed some human moments. American Horror Story is nothing but “OMG” moments, to an exhausting degree. People come back from the dead all the time! There are no stakes, only flashes of shock. The “OMG” should evolve naturally from the characters, not the other way around.

Writer vs. director

Ryan Murphy is a very good director. The split-screen in last night’s finale was a brilliant way to show the verdict. He has an appealing visual style that works for crime dramas, high school musicals, and horror comedies (I think that’s what Scream Queens is supposed to be, at least). But he’s not much of a writer, for reasons discussed above. American Crime Story is his first series where he didn’t write an episode. (Murphy even contributed scripts to The New Normal.) Perhaps not coincidentally, it’s also his best series. Murphy should remain involved in the writers room, but only as a consultant; he needs someone(s) to keep his crazier notions in check. One of the reasons why American Crime Story worked so well is because it was based on a true story (you might have heard about it) — the writers couldn’t deviate too far from the truth. But there was still some wiggle for Murphy’s pulpy flair, like “Miss Diana Ross.” That’s why American Horror Story should cover Slenderman next season, as rumored. The real-life racism in American Crime Story is more terrifying than anything fictional American Horror Story could come up with.

And most importantly…

More Travolta. Please, and thank you.