Last December, Emily Blake wrote about her thing, that thing which sets her apart as a writer.
As far as I can tell, I actually have a few things, but none of them are quite as well defined as hers.
Tension. Two people sitting at a table, discussing something. Not arguing. Unspoken, they hate each other, or have major bad blood, but both are biting back because they must. This happens a lot in my scripts, and the scenes crackle with underlying tension.
Small casts. No matter how big the event, I focus on individuals, not casts of thousands. (It’s a rare thing for a script of mine to have more than 24 speaking parts.)
Skips. If a big, impressive, expensive set-piece is important to the story, but not to the theme, I’ll bypass it and focus on the aftermath. This keeps the story focused on the characters, and the audience involved in the story, not only in the present scene, but in piecing together what they missed. (And it can help with the budget enormously.)
Clichés. Everybody hates them. But they become clichés because they’re based on something real, something true, however twisted it becomes in the process. When I’m on my game, I can take a scene or a character you’ve seen thirty-seven times before, and find that truth, discard the lazy thinking and make the whole thing fresh again.
