40% off Script Notes from me! I’m only giving out two of these deals. Be the first or tenth person to e-mail me at carsonreeves1@gmail.com with the subject line “May Deal” and you get one!

I’ve noticed that people are talking about AI a lot in the comments section. I do think AI is going to make some big leaps in the world of writing in the next couple of years, but not in the ways many assume. It’s not going to be able to write a good script for you, unfortunately.

But I’ve been privy to some behind-the-scenes chats about word processors incorporating AI in a way where they’re constantly evaluating your story and giving you real-time options on where to take it. For example, after you write a scene on page, say, 15, it will have a little prompt you can click on that brings up three potential directions you can take your story next.  Or it may give you options for how you can make your hero’s flaw more consistent with the theme of your story.

It’s gonna be your virtual writing partner, in a sense. And it will probably take a while to get good at it. That’s the thing about AI and writing right now, is that when you truly put it to the test of writing something, it’s still not very good.

I constantly test it with dialogue prompts. I give it a scenario or provide an already written scene and ask it for dialogue suggestions. It has never given me a line that I would use. It *does* prompt new ideas on your end for certain lines. But it never gives you an actual line you’re satisfied with. I think because it still doesn’t understand humanity and how we think. Because how we think is a big part of what we say. It doesn’t get that.

However, there is one area where AI has made writing 1000% better, which is that you can now literally write about ANYTHING.

Through reading thousands of scripts, what I’ve learned is that if the writer doesn’t know the world they’re writing about, the script is always bad. Like 99.9% of the time the script is bad. But when someone really truly knows their subject matter, the quality of the script goes up dramatically. Cause the story is specific and authentic and, most importantly, feels like it’s really happening.

It makes a difference when a cop writes a screenplay about a cop. It makes a difference when a club promoter writes a story about a hot club in downtown Miami. They can get to places that nobody else can, and it makes a huge difference. Which is why we’ve always had the advice: WRITE WHAT YOU KNOW. Because when you write what you know, you can write the most authentic story possible.

Well, you no longer have to write what you know. AI has made that advice obsolete.

I realized this because, for the longest time, I had this movie idea about a murder that occurs inside Area 51. I thought it would be fun to explore an investigation where the setting makes it impossible to do your job. And, also, inside a place that has so many secrets!

But I never wrote it because I knew NOTHING about that world. I don’t even know the difference between a general and a sergeant. I truly don’t! I don’t understand military hierarchy. And I definitely don’t understand what the day-to-day operations on Area 51 would be like. I would just be making things up and, trust me, when the writer is making shit up, the reader knows.

But a couple of months ago, for shits and giggles, I popped open Final Draft, opened up a tab in Firefox for Grok, and I started writing the script. Every time I had a question about how it would really be, I’d ask Grok. How do workers get into Area 51? It told me they fly over on a covert flight from Las Vegas airport every day. The movie is set in 1996, so I would ask it, “What kind of plane would they have flown into Area 51 at that time?” It told me the exact plane and what it looked like.

I asked it, “Who would greet my investigator when he arrived in Area 51?” It told me it didn’t know but based on common military protocol, it gave me its best guess. And I quickly realized how realistic I could make this all feel just by having this AI helper by my side.

And that’s when I realized, the world is wide open for writers now. You can never have engaged with an FBI agent in your life yet write a realistic FBI espionage thriller. You may have always wanted to write about The War of Scottish Independence in 1296 but were terrified that you wouldn’t be able to get the cadence or dialogue right for the time. Well, now you can just ask AI and it will tell you.

Or even something simple, like a legal show. We all know the notorious story about how the writer’s room of She-Hulk, which was a legal show, realized that none of them knew anything about the law or legal proceedings in a courtroom. If they would’ve written the series now, it would’ve been a million times easier. You can literally ask AI exactly how each step of a courtroom case would go down and it will tell you.

This is the most exciting thing to me about AI in the writing space by far. There have been so many fun ideas I’ve had over the years that I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole because I knew I didn’t have the knowledge to pull them off. And now it’s like… the floodgates have opened. Anything is possible. It’s exciting.

I’m curious if anyone here has taken advantage of this. Or if you’re using AI for other writing tasks. Let me know!

This is a big recent spec sale to Lionsgate. It is being pitched as a “negotiator” version of Source Code

Genre: Sci-Fi
Premise: Unable to prevent a bomber from blowing up a hotel, a hostage negotiator finds himself stuck in a time loop, using the extra time to figure out who the determined bomber is and what he wants.
About: This script sold to Lionsgate last week. Here’s Deadline’s account of how it went down – “Townend’s deal is remarkable, we’re told, for a writer with no produced credits, particularly given that the script was taken out without any talent attachments. Sources described the outcome as a three-way bidding war that resulted in a mid-six-figure guaranteed fee against a low-seven-figure purchase/bonus. The script was taken out on the first Monday of April, and by Friday of that week, 20 premium production companies were chasing aggressively.” And for those long-time screenwriters who want a little bit of motivation, I have an e-mail from Mark dating all the way back to 2014!  11 years of writing to get to the sale.  So, always keep writing!
Writer: Mark Townend
Details: 108 pages

Hot spec alert hot spec alert hot spec alert hot spec alert.

And a very “Carson” hot spec it is. Sci-fi? Loop? Was this written just for me?

Let’s find out!

40-something Billy Aubrey is a negotiator. He’s also a terrible family man, which is why he’s on the outs with his wife and son. One day, he gets a call from his lawyer wife, who says she wants to have a big conversation with him.

First he goes to work, then he attends a conference, then he shows up at the hotel to talk to his wife. Only to spot a man in a parka with a detonator in his hand. Billy tries to approach him, ready to use his negotiating skills, but the man presses the button and everyone in the lobby, including Billy, is blown to bits.

But then Billy wakes up at the beginning of the same day. At first he assumes he had a nightmare. But when everything in the day happens exactly as before, he comes to the shocking conclusion that he’s stuck inside a loop. He’s a little more ready for the bomber (Chris) this time. But Chris still detonates the bomb.

Billy wakes up again, this time with new information. On day 1, he woke up at 6:47 am. Day 2, 7:47 am. Today, he’s woken up at 8:47am. He’s losing an hour with each reset. And the bomb? The bomb always goes off at 12:47. Which means he only has a few more shots to figure out what’s going on here.

He ropes in his disbelieving partner, Josie, and learns that there’s a major tech titan at the hotel that day. That must be Chris’s target. But with each reset, Billy finds out more about Chris, eventually getting his address. So he visits Chris’s house in the morning, where he finds that there are men there, men who are making Chris do this.

(Spoilers follow) That’s when things get really crazy. The men are talking to someone on the phone. They’re telling the mystery phone man, “He’s here. The target is here.” Which means that Billy…. IS THE TARGET. Which means now Billy has to figure out why he’s the target. He eventually realizes that a man from his past, his old partner John Rosen, who’s about to become mayor, is trying to dispose of him. With only one loop left, Billy will have to confront him and take him down.

We all know I love myself a time loop script.

But – and this is a continuation of yesterday’s theme – what are you adding to the time loop genre that’s new?

Here, the fresh addition is that, after every loop, we start the day 1 hour later. This adds a ticking time bomb (literally) to the proceedings since, sooner or later, we’re going to start too late into the day to prevent the bomb from blowing up.

The obvious question, then, is, “Is that different enough?”

My gut instinct answer is no. Like we talked about yesterday, the objective, when creating the “different” part of the “same but different” formula Hollywood likes, isn’t to win the logic debate. The “different” aspect that you add must *feel* genuinely different. And this doesn’t feel that different to me. It feels like a lot of other time loop scripts I read.

That doesn’t mean the script doesn’t work. From a structural standpoint, I like the idea that one hour disappears each day. It creates urgency inside a genre that is all about anti-urgency (a loop is endless – that’s the obstacle the hero faces). And the writer explains a potentially complicated rule-set (the loop moves forward 1 hour every reset) effortlessly, which I can tell you does NOT always happen. Many amateur scripts I read fall apart because their writers don’t explain their rules clearly enough.

I can tell you exactly when I knew this script would be ‘worth the read.’ It happens halfway into the script when Billy is at Chris’s house, trying to figure out why he’s determined to bomb the hotel, and he overhears the men in the other room – the ones making Chris do this – on the phone with someone saying, “We don’t know why but he’s here.” In other words, the tech guy isn’t the target. Billy is the target.

Why is this such an important plot development? Because I read scripts like this a lot – not loop scripts per se, but mystery thrillers – and nine out of ten writers would’ve gone with the tech guy as the target. The tech guy as the target is an *okay* plot choice. But it’s not sexy. It’s not that interesting. What’s interesting is your hero being the target because now the mystery deepens and the story becomes more personal.

So, why then, doesn’t the script score higher than “worth the read?” Because nothing surprising happens after that. The writer ties up the story threads he’s set up. But that’s all that is – tying up plot threads.

This is a dangerous trap that’s easy for screenwriters to fall into. They set up the pieces of their mystery and, at a certain point in the story, once we know what’s going on, the writer just goes through the motions of wrapping up every plot beat. (Spoilers) We know Rosen is the bad guy now so it’s just a matter of getting to him and taking him down. There are no new developments.

As screenwriters, we should always be looking to stay ahead of the reader. The reader should never get too comfortable, especially in the final act. But here, everything that I expected to happen in the final act happened. We could’ve still pushed in a few areas – had one last surprise or two.

White Lotus did a great job of this in its season finale. I don’t know anybody who predicted what was going to happen in that final episode. Because Mike White knows that you have to stay ahead of the reader. You can’t just use your final episode (or act) to tie everything up. You still have to titilate and excite and throw some curveballs at us.

With all that said, this is another good example of how sexy concepts capture the attention of readers. It doesn’t always mean they’re going to sell, like Renegotiate, but it gives you a much better chance in the marketplace.

[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: Beware of this word – INEVITABLE.  If anything is inevitable in your story, we’ve lost interest.  I’ll give you an example.  Return of the Jedi.  Everybody already knew that Luke and Leia were brother and sister.  But Luke and Leia had not had that conversation yet.  So it was INEVITABLE that Lucas had to write that scene.  Which is why the scene is one of the most boring in all of Star Wars.  Well, maybe not as boring as episodes 1-15 of Andor, but boring in the OG Star Wars universe.  My point is, you should always try to give a little more than what’s expected when you’re wrapping storylines up.  Cause it’s always going to be more interesting than that inevitable scene we’re all waiting for.  Here, once we knew about John Rosen and we’re just waiting for the inevitable showdown, I thought more could’ve been done.

I couldn’t ignore all the buzz that Sinners was getting. It’s not easy to achieve both 90+ percent in critics and audience scores on Rotten Tomatoes. So, over to the local movie theater I went and strapped in for two hours of… well, I didn’t know what. I’d seen the fist trailer, which was vague, and nothing else. This is how I prefer to see movies if possible. I want to know as little as I can.

The story takes place in a 1932 Mississippi town – and yes, I was, as always, excited to be able to type out “Mississippi.” Identical twins Smoke and Stack, who used to work for Al Capone in Chicago, have returned home to start a new business venture. They’re going to open a dance hall.

For whatever reason, they’re adamant about starting their dance hall TONIGHT. You’d think maybe they’d spend a month putting the place together. But no, it must be tonight. By the way, it’s never explained why the urgency but maybe Ryan Coogler reads Scriptshadow and knows that the tighter the timeframe, the better.

Smoke and Stack put together their team throughout the day – getting their guitar man, their harmonica man, their door man, their food people, their liquor guys. And, as the sun sets, people start showing up.

Little do they know, just down the road, a vampire has crashed a couple’s home and immediately turns them into vampires as well. The three of them, who now are, also, an Irish folk band, show up at Smoke-Stack’s party and want to join. A little issue, though. They’re white and everyone here is black. So Smoke and Stack tell them to get lost.

Eventually, Smoke’s (or Stack’s) side piece girlfriend ventures out to ask the folk band why they’re still hanging around and she gets bitten. Therefore, when she comes back inside, she lures Stack into a back room and, during hanky-panky time, she bites him. Smoke catches wind of what’s going on and orders everyone but the staff to leave. And now, the games begin.

The folk band vampires immediately turn all of the leaving partygoers into vampires, which means there are a good 200 vampires outside eager to devour the staff. So they wait, and they taunt, and they tempt, and they trick, all in an attempt to lure the rest of the crew out and turn them into vampires. Eventually, it becomes an all-out war and nearly everyone dies.

So, how was it??

Was it as good as everyone’s saying?

Well, you know how I see things at this point. The first thing I’m looking at is not the acting, not the directing, not the visuals or the music. I’m looking at the script. And the script has problems.

I’ve seen these types of scripts before and they have a very significant issue that’s hard to overcome. That issue is that the main event – in this case, the party – is too small to get to right away but too big to get to too late. In other words, you can’t start the party at the beginning of the second act (pages 26-31). You’ll run out of steam before the climax.

However, the later the party starts, the more script you have to cover in the meantime. And what do you do with that time? The first act (pages 1-30) sets everything up. In this case, it sets up the brothers’ return. It sets up the purchase of the party building. It sets up all the characters who are going to be involved.

But, traditionally, when the second act begins, that’s when your characters need to go out on their journey. For example, that’s when Deadpool and Wolverine begin their journey to escape the world they’ve been banished to. In Sinners, the “journey” is the party.

But like I said, you can’t start the party too early. So this leaves this “No Man’s Land” between the end of the first act and the beginning of the party, where Sinners is clearly lost. Coogler’s solution is to extend his setup from 30 pages, to a full 45 pages, and so we get lost in this ENDLESS setup where, quite frankly, we’re bored out of our minds.

Now, in fairness, the reason I don’t think it bothered critics as much, is because they know what’s coming. They know Insane Vampire Party is coming. And when you know something big and flashy and sexy is coming, you’re more willing to suffer through an elongated setup. But there’s no question that this setup section is a disaster. It’s way too long.

Still in need to cover time before the real movie begins, Coogler then gets us to the party, but gives us this sort of “half party” where people are lingering about and chilling and not really into it yet. Again, we’re stuck in Screenplay No Man’s Land here. And it’s giving this movie all sorts of pacing issues.

In fact, the inciting incident, when the vampire folk band shows up at the party, doesn’t happen until 60-70 pages into the script! Which is insane. But, at least now the movie has begun.

So, once the movie truly begins, was it worth the wait? I would say…. Almost. Things get so crazy that there’s definitely entertainment value to be had here. And the music stuff is really good. There’s sort of like this music battle going on between the people inside the building and outside the building. It’s funky, a little bit different. And that was cool to watch.

Also, Coogler was a genius to cast Michael B. Jordan in the brother roles. Because, traditionally, if you had cast a movie star and a character actor in those roles, you wouldn’t make your movie star a brain dead vampire halfway through the film. The movie star wouldn’t go for it. They’d want to be the star, the guy who leads the charge til the very end. But because Jordan is playing two roles, it allowed Coogler to do that, which was cool.

And I was into the final battle. I was curious what was going to happen. Unlike traditional Hollywood movies, you got the sense that nobody was safe and that’s when endings are most exciting. I’m not sure I understood why we continued the movie after the night was over. But, otherwise, I thought the climax was good.

So, it’s a mixed bag, this film. It’s messy. In addition to the early script issues, I don’t really understand what the movie was about. I’m guessing some sort of social commentary was being made here but I didn’t pick up on what that was. I’m sure people will get on their high horses and confidently claim it was about “this” or “that,” but I’m betting every one of them got those theories from a quick post-movie internet search.

In the end, I have to ask the question, “Would I be confident in telling someone it was worth 30 bucks (ticket plus parking) to go out and see this movie?” And the answer is, “No.” I think whoever I told to go see this movie would be upset with me afterwards. But is it worth checking out when it hits streaming? Sure. There’s enough good here to, at the very least, have a nice passive viewing experience.

[ ] What the hell did I just watch?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the price of admission
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: Beware story setups that have a “Screenplay No Man’s Land.” This is where there’s a gulf in between the end of the first act and the beginning of the official “adventure.” You’ll be pulling your hair out trying to figure out how to make pages 30-60 entertaining.

I’ve watched four of the six episodes of the recently released seventh season of Black Mirror and, like all Black Mirror seasons, it’s a love-hate relationship. I don’t think I’ve watched something I’ve hated more than the first episode. In that one, a wife, Amanda, gets a traumatic brain injury and they digitally replace her brain under the condition that it be hooked up to a server that cost 300 dollars a month.

Everything’s great at first but then this service starts inserting ads (Amanda will randomly recite a commercial ad out of nowhere) and the only way to stop hearing them is to upgrade to the higher tier, at $800 a month. And then it keeps going up from there.

It’s not the worst idea in the world but the contrast between the marriage, which is played completely straight, and the service, which is played like it takes place in the Monty Python universe, is so jarring that nothing ever feels right. And the actors, Rashida Jones and Chris O’Dowd, who play the husband and wife, are beyond nauseating.  If you had told me that the over-under for how many times two people could proclaim their love for one another going into this show was 500, I never would’ve thought it would hit the over.  But they did! They’re trying sooooooooo hard to make you love them and all it does is push us further away. And Rashida Jones may be the single most boring actress who’s ever graced the screen. I absolutely hated this episode.

The next episode had zero pretense, zero satire. It was trashy. It was dramatic. And I loved it! This girl who works at a Bon Appetite like food company is thrown into disarray when a weird girl from her former high school starts working there. Soon, our heroine starts making mistakes that she’s never made before and suspects that her new coworker is responsible.  But she can’t prove it. So she goes to extreme measures to take her down.

What I liked about this episode was that it proves you don’t need a ton to write a strong story. You really only need a good starting point (a solid premise) and some conflict. The heavier you can make that conflict, the juicier the story tends to be. And the writers here do such a good job creating the conflict between these two women. In the end, that’s all that was needed – two people going at each other and let’s see how this ends.

The third episode, Plaything, is the darkest of the four episodes I watched. It follows this strange older man who’s arrested by police under the suspicion that he’s responsible for a recently discovered suitcase that contains body parts in it.

The episode takes place mostly in an interrogation room at the police station and the two cops interrogating the man are baffled and frustrated when he tells them that all of this goes back to a video game he used to play 30 years ago – “The Throng.” The game consisted of the first digitally sentient beings in a game. These things understood their own existence. And they started replicating over the years, becoming a bigger and bigger civilization. As a result, he’d been tasked with growing the hardware over the decades so they could keep expanding.

But, finally, they’ve gotten too big for the hardware, which means there’s only one place left to expand – the internet. This, it turns out, was our older man’s plan all along. Get captured, come in here, and use a sleight-of-hand QR code trick to send the Throng into the UK’s governmental computer, via a nearby security cam. Soon, the Throng will be everywhere. And humanity will never be the same again.

If you know me, you know that I like when writers use common scenarios to build their scenes and stories around. I talk about this in my dialogue book. Common situations are your friend in writing. Interrogations, in particular, are fertile grounds to create interesting scenarios because the audience already understands the rules and these situations themselves are often high stakes, since murder is usually involved.

And you can see, with this episode, that as long as you inject that scenario with a fresh angle, you can still tell a fresh story. Interrogations very well may be 500 years old. But none of them have involved somebody talking about a video game that eventually becomes a threat to all of humanity. You take something old and you combine it with something new. That’s what makes it fresh (and that’s what’s made Black Mirror such a success).

The final episode I watched was the sequel to U.S.S. Callister. The U.S.S. Callister is considered by many to be the best episode of Black Mirror ever. It follows an evil coder, Robert Daly, at a game company, who digitally replicates his coworkers via a DNA-to-digital machine, which allows him to put their digital clones into his own version of the game, where he can then lord over them like a God.

In this sequel to the original, the New York Times has gotten wind of a rumor about the digital clones. If true, it would sink the company. So the president tasks one of his coders, a young woman named Nannette, to figure out what’s going on. When Nannette learns that her own digital clone, as well as five others, are in the game, she must figure out a way to save them. Meanwhile, the digital clones are in the game fighting off real players. The difference between them is, if the players die, they can just respawn. If a digital clone dies, they die for good.

For the most part, I enjoyed this sequel. However, it’s a reminder that the more complex the rules are, the harder it is for the average reader/viewer to keep up. I’d forgotten the rules from the original movie, and it took a good 45 minutes to remember how it all worked.  Basically, it was hard to track the exact connection between the real world people and their digital clones.  How much did they know about each other?  How did they communicate?

I always tell writers to keep your sci-fi rule-set as simple as possible. Most writers enjoy getting into the weeds of their rules and, in the process, we, the reader, get left behind. This just happened recently. I read a sci-fi script with way too many rules and it, ultimately, took the screenplay down.

At the very least, if you have a lot of rules, you have to be awesome at explaining them to the reader in an understandable way. That’s where you see the biggest difference between pros and amateurs. Despite some of my issues with the excessive rule set here, I ended up understanding them by the end and, in most amateur scripts that tackle rules this extensive, that wouldn’t have happened.

Ultimately, I think the movie suffers from Cristin Miloti carrying the load. She’s great to look at but she is nowhere close to being able to carry a movie all on her own. She’s just not interesting enough as an actress. The reason that first movie was so good was 50% due to the writing and 50% due to Jesse Plemons. Without Plemons playing a major role here, the sequel doesn’t compare to the original.

But it’s still solid.  What did you guys think?

Genre: Drama/Sci-Fi
Premise: A woman begins dating a perfect handsome man only to discover that he may not be human.
About: Today’s screenwriter, Kate Folk, authored the short story collection, Out There, which today’s script is based on. She has written for publications including The New Yorker and the New York Times Magazine. She was also a Wallace Stegner Fellow in fiction at Stanford University. The script appeared on last year’s Black List.
Writer: Kate Folk
Details: 111 pages

Pattinson for Roger?

It’s appropriate that Black Mirror comes out with a new episode this Friday because today’s script is less a feature film than it is a storyline for a Black Mirror episode. Let’s see if it’s any good.

Normal-looking Alicia and newish drop-dead gorgeous boyfriend, Alan, have just spent an amazing night in a cabin in Big Sur, a picturesque resort town on the northern coast of California. While Alicia sleeps, Alan gets up, props open Alicia’s laptop, and his eyes go milky. Seconds later, the laptop dies. He does the same with her phone. He then walks over to the window, dissolves into a ball of energy, then dissipates.

Cut to a week later where we meet San Francisco eye-surgery tech, Meg, who is still hurting after getting dumped by her boyfriend, Matt. Although Matt was, by no means, perfect, he’s a lot better than all the losers she’s been dating on these dating apps. She not-so-secretly yearns to jumpstart their relationship again.

And she gets her chance when she arrives home one night and Matt is at her apartment, talking to her passive-aggressive roommate, Genevieve. Matt is happy to see Meg and asks her if she wants to be his ‘plus-one’ at a work dinner event. She doesn’t have to think twice.

When she shows up at the dinner, Meg is upset to learn that she won’t be sitting with Matt but, rather, a group of random people at a table. She’s ready to explode until she meets the guy she’s sitting next to – the gorgeous perfect gentleman, Roger. Roger is instantly smitten with Meg, which throws her off. Guys this handsome don’t usually pay her attention.

Soon the two are texting each other, talking all the time, going on dates. But it doesn’t escape Megan that Roger is kind of… odd. He’s overtly formal in the way he speaks. He’s way too polite. He seems to have zero concept of how handsome he is. And he quadruple texts! Everybody knows, on the dating scene, that it’s suicide to even DOUBLE TEXT. So clearly something’s not right.

Soon, Roger is pushing Meg to go with him to Big Sur. Everything is “Big Sur, Big Sur, Big Sur.” He’s pushy enough that Meg is cautious. And that’s when the story breaks. Alicia, the woman from the opening, reveals her story to the news – which is that some shady Russian tech company has created AI men who are designed to lure in unsuspecting average women, take them to Big Sur, then steal their entire digital lives (identity, bank account, job, etc).

At first, Meg is mortified. But when these men – known as ‘blots’ – start getting arrested across town, Meg feels bad for Roger, and continues to see him, even providing him safety from the authorities. When it becomes clear that Roger’s programming is geared towards climaxing at Big Sur, Meg decides to go with him, understanding the consequences. She prepares all of her data for its inevitable theft, but has she prepared for everything?

I used to think that “voice” was all about the way your characters spoke—that the offbeat sense of humor you gave them made up 90% of your voice as a writer. Think John Hughes, Diablo Cody, or Quentin Tarantino.

But I’m starting to realize that it’s more complicated than that. Voice begins with the type of subject matter you choose to encase your story in. For example, if you’re into car chases and shootouts and you write your scripts accordingly, those are pretty broad topics. They appear in a lot of movies. So someone who writes about them won’t be seen as a “unique voice.”

Meanwhile, if you write about professional apologizers (these are real people in Japan), that subject matter is much more niche and allows your story to stand out amongst others. It is the starting point for creating a unique voice.

Also, any movement into fantasy/sci-fi is an opportunity to isolate your voice from others. Here, Folk has created these entirely AI human beings that disappear into balls of energy once their mission is accomplished. Again, that’s a very niche idea and, therefore, helps form a specialized voice.

Once you mix in how you see the world, your voice as a writer really starts to stand out. Maybe you see humanity through the lens that people are inherently good and eager to help one another. Or maybe you see it as everyone being selfish, always looking for an angle or a way to take advantage. Either perspective can shape your storytelling.

You can also dive into the nitty-gritty—like how your characters approach dating. The way someone sees the dating world has a huge impact on how their story feels. Are they hopeful? Hopeless? Do their characters take whatever they can get, or do they never settle? Whatever angle you choose to highlight usually reflects how you see dating, and that perspective becomes a key part of your voice.

To summarize, if you can mix a series of offbeat viewpoints together, you can really stand out as someone with a unique voice. Which is why I think Kate Folk is one of the better writers on last year’s Black List. Because while her story itself isn’t very sexy – it’s basically about a relationship – all of these unique ways in which she sees things give the script an unusual tenor. It’s covering a basic human relationship yet it doesn’t feel like something we’ve read before.

Now, I didn’t say that meant it was good. There isn’t enough plot here. But there’s enough to keep us engaged. I thought one of the more interesting creative choices Folk made was to expose Roger at the midpoint. Most writers would’ve kept the dramatic irony going – where we knew Roger was bad but Meg didn’t – all the way to the Big Sur climax.

But, instead, Folk uses that plot development (blots are exposed) to alter the story. Now it becomes a riff on Steven Spielberg’s “A.I.,” where Meg is harboring Roger and decides she wants to help him complete his purpose. While I wished there would’ve been higher stakes for Meg, the stakes are still high enough on Roger’s end (he’s going to die) that the climax had weight.

If you’re looking for how to write a script that hits people viscerally, like yesterday’s Bato Bato, this script is not for you. But if you’re trying to find ways to better express your unique sensibilities through your screenplays, you’re going to want to check this out.

[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: Here’s Kate Folk on how to approach writing first drafts – “I find first drafts challenging and, actually, I prefer the revision stage, because it seems so daunting to create something out of nothing. My strategy for that is to pour as much content on the page as I can, so that then I have something to work with and transform from there.” I agree. When you’re struggling to get your script out, drop the judgment and just put words down on the page until you finish. It won’t be perfect but at least you’ll now have clay that you can start molding.