Does your story have everything? If so, that's your problem
Advice from a TV writer/author
Look, I get it. You've got a brilliant idea. A sprawling epic. A story with so many layers it could peel an onion. You want to cram it all in, every last brilliant nuance, every witty exchange, every character arc you've ever dreamed of. And then you wonder why nobody’s reading past page ten.
Stop “Kitchen Sinking” it
When I ask people to describe their story, they often say something like,
“It’s a romantic comedy. But it has elements of a thriller. And it’s about redemption, but it’s also about love but also grief with hints of self-identity.”
You have a hot mess. It’s got everything but the kitchen sink.
Your script needs to be about ONE THING. Not five things. Not three things. One. Single. Thing.
Think about it. We’re in a business where attention spans are shorter than a TikTok video. Nobody in Hollywood has six hours to figure out what the hell your movie or TV show is actually about. They've got twenty minutes, maybe. If you don't hit them over the head with your core premise right away, they're moving on. And trust me, there are a thousand other scripts in that pile just begging for a read.
I talk about this a lot in my workshops – the fundamental problem with most amateur scripts is a lack of focus. Writers get so caught up in showing how smart they are, how much they know, that they forget the most basic rule of storytelling: clarity.
You’re not writing a dissertation. You're writing entertainment. And entertainment, at its core, needs to be digestible. Audiences don't want to work to understand your story. They want to be swept away.
So, how do you figure out your "one thing?" It’s usually tied to your protagonist's main goal. What do they want more than anything? What's the central conflict preventing them from getting it? Everything else – subplots, supporting characters, witty banter – should serve that main objective. If it doesn't, cut it. Seriously. Get out the machete.
It’s not about dumbing down your story. It’s about focusing it. It’s about building a sturdy house with a clear foundation, not a rickety shack with fifty doors going in every direction. When you narrow your focus, ironically, your story often becomes more profound, not less. Because you're forced to explore that one thing deeply, rather than skimming the surface of a dozen things.
So, before you write another word, ask yourself: What is my script truly about? Can I explain it in one sentence? If not, you’ve got more work to do. And that work is a lot cheaper than finding out nobody wants to buy your sprawling, unfocused masterpiece.