As a writer, you come to understand that words are important. For example, if I remark that every night before bed, I rub peanut butter all over myself, you might be moved to conjure that image, whether or not it’s true. As a writer, you’re able to suggest, and that has power to it. A writer traffics in semantics and subtext. Your words carry meaning. But the collective consciousness punishes a confidence in being unique. There’s a downward trend in the culture to vehemently oppose anything with depth or intrigue. In presenting something of meaning, you risk being faced with an “It’s not that deep” or the completely idiotic “It insists upon itself”. Everything does. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t survive. If art doesn’t suggest a reason for its existence, it’ll fade into nothingness. Those truncated and marketable criticisms can often trace back to the more accurate seedling “I don’t understand this”. That can then become as much a fault of the author as it is a fault of the viewer, so we present those grand ideas in a more identifiable way.
A writer must persevere under conviction, internal or external, perceived or imagined, in the belief that it will result in something beautiful. You have to be willing to challenge the assumptions of the viewer. Subvert the expectation. To introduce a unique world or circumstance with your writing is a negation of the principal of comfort in routine. How do we further subvert and impose that subconsciously on the viewer? By breaking convention from the get-go. Start with the language itself. Allow the characters their full range of expression.
INT. MOTEL - EVENING
Thomas paces uneasily, arranging his belongings, then shivers from the breeze --
THOMAS (CONT'D)
My fundamentals are in question... A leaf falls from a tree, in its dreams it’s still part of the tree.
He sighs and looks to the busted door. He hits his bamboo wind chimes with his finger, then kneels to screw the hinges back into the doorframe, rustily engaging in prayer --
THOMAS (CONT'D)
Alright... Since you seem to be keen on reappearing in my life, then I've a request.
He stops and considers a digression --
THOMAS (CONT'D)
You get tired of the requests? Seems that's all anyone prays for. To receive, not to give. Maybe you just want someone to check up on you every once in a while...
A momentary smile until he resumes with the door --
THOMAS (CONT'D)
But I'll not break that convention today... If you are that same superstition channeled through the kid's hands, and not the nothingness I awoke to when wrapped around a tree... then maybe you'd chance extending some of that gift giving favor to someone like me.
He stops. A pensive silence --
THOMAS (CONT'D)
Say I’m able once again, to teach. Say I'm allowed to return to my podium, and instead of speaking just to those few who'll still listen, speak truths to all. And as a result, once again feel I'm doing what I'm supposed to do.
Another moment, then he continues with the door --
THOMAS (CONT'D)
This I say, knowing any prior attempt at prayer that didn't die on my lips was met with your full fuckin voicemail box... But please. Take what you will to grant me it.
He qualifies --
THOMAS (CONT'D)
Though I'll drink no less. Even last night considered, that, you'll not take from me... And why should you? Christ drank wine, I drink everything else.
(almost reverent.)
But I pray. Allow me this, to return to it. Absolve me of that guilt, at least. One of the many I've accumulated.
The door is as good as it'll get. Another long pensive silence, he looks around --
THOMAS (CONT'D)
Is that good enough?
He waits for a response that doesn't come.
Your ideas must come from a modicum of internal truth. You have to be the right person to tell the story. You’ve got to identify and solidify that part of yourself that is other from everyone else, say it’s something you don’t like that everyone else likes, and then explore why that is, what the facets of it are, then once that examination is complete, extrapolate it and abstract it until it’s universally identifiable in a narrative sense. If you cater only to the psychological minority that you’re in, you’ll only ever engage a fraction of that minority, because maybe it’s even a shame to not like what you don’t like, so they won’t want to engage in consumption of material that alienates them further. If you want to write a story about a guy who really likes racing marbles, you have to frame it as a story about ambition, competition, and purpose, otherwise the only people you’re going to reach are marble racers, and even then, maybe only half of the marble racers are going to think it’s any good, because you didn’t portray marble racing exactly how they wanted you to. Your ideas must be accessible and identifiable in order to be viable. By that same token, I try not to hold the hand of the audience too much. Contemporary audiences seem to be losing the ability to put two and two together, but I don't want to submit and just give them four. Respect the art and be truthful to the expression of it, but understand the audience’s capacity to understand is vastly different from yours.
EXT. FIFTH STREET - DAY
Summer sits on the hood of her car, surveying her surroundings, holding her surfboard air freshener between her fingers and speaking to it. She stares off --
SUMMER
Town’s changed. Things come and gone. Stood on the corners of some of these blocks when they were vacant lots, a vacant lot myself, not thinking things'd ever be different... But the world seemed to brand me something different in the interval.
Back to the air freshener --
SUMMER (CONT'D)
I wonder, change and all, has the populace varied such that I won't know anyone? Air-headed ex-boyfriends... so forth... My parents are still here, I know that much. But seeing them, having to hear what a disappointment I’ve amounted to be in their eyes, that’s something's got my stomach in knots. Don't need it. No use for it.
Her eyes wander to the shore --
SUMMER (CONT'D)
I’d surf, to take my mind off it, but I lack the equipment.
Back to the air freshener --
SUMMER (CONT'D)
You won't do... No offense.
It speaks to something that the first official note I got boiled down to “I love this, it’s incredible. Dumb it down”. You have to not only understand the intentions of your native art, but understand the lens through which it's going to be viewed. You say, if I'm doing a vertical series, I'm going to have to catch that person's attention within 3 seconds. And I'm going to have to distill everything down to its most accessible form so that the majority of people can identify with it and enjoy it enough to continue watching. There’s obviously a disconnect between that reality and what the process should actually be, which is, I feel compelled to tell this story, and I'm going to let this story be dictated by the necessities of the story itself, not the constrictions of the method by which I’m able to tell the story. But I tend to spend more time figuring out how to work past such an injustice than I do remarking that the thing is unjust. I engage a gratefulness that I’m able to tell the story at all.
EXT. SHORE - DAY
Luke sits on the mounds of sand and holds the “hear no evil” ape totem between his fingers, talking to it --
LUKE
Now, last you and I spoke, I'd said I wanted no part in a busy life. Said that leisure was something I finally deserved... Then I said I wanted to get myself some ass. Said if I failed, I'd fall back on my familiars... And that was right before the thing blinded me and told me to heal.
He furrows his brow --
LUKE
Did you bring this on?
He examines the bottom of it, turns it around --
LUKE
Are you some weird conduit to the voice I heard, some cursed voodoo thing that brought me this misery? Sent weird fuckers to talk nonsense to me?
The ape's hands are stoic over its ears --
LUKE
Are you even listening to me?
He makes the ape shake its head by turning it with his fingers --
LUKE
I didn't think so. Just like everyone else. Well, nothing new to report, then. Just that now I all the more so think I deserve a bit of rest.
He looks out to the waves, then positions the ape totem to sit beside him.
In these chosen samples, I’ve highlighted the occasional scene where a character will speak alone, all for different reasons. Sometimes they speak to anthropomorphized representative objects, sometimes it’s a calling out to who they believe is god. For Thomas, it’s often a comfortability in introspection. For Luke, it’s the one-sided conversation of prayer. For Summer, it’s an isolation, she feels she can only share herself with herself. Another reason for my soliloquic writing is that for the most part, The Healer is a lonely show. it explores loneliness not just through imagery and theme, but the writing itself. These are scenes that also don't mind giving the characters their full range of expression, but there are plenty of scenes in this show and my other works that do things in a more traditional and simplistic fashion.
Something you might note in my material is a complete abstention from using the phrase "A beat". I detest it. You'll never see it on any of my scripts. Whether it's relegated to sit in a parenthetical or take up the space of an action line, you won't find it in my work. There's a reason for that. I believe that your action lines should be able to be more than just an indicator of movement or the passage of time. I prefer not to waste an opportunity on the page to further illustrate the piece for the reader, actor, or viewer. You have a chance to pull something internal about the character into focus. You can call to light a filmable motivation that an actor can interpret in their reading. Some believe that to be the job of the director, or producer, or the gaffer, or anyone but the person who actually created the thing, but if you're the person who knows this story better than anyone, you should make it your goal to internally clarify that story as much as possible. You grew it from a seed, you don't want to watch it wilt under the care of a different gardener. We're wordsmiths. You can indicate the passage of time in a much more interesting way that hopefully gives an insight into the character's thought process, into what your characters are really doing or what their true intents are. And I'm not suggesting that between every line of dialogue you put a paragraph explaining which of his eyelashes are out of place, or exactly when the idea to write this line came to you under a fucking cherry tree, you just have an opportunity in the single action line to guide the character's thoughts. Rather than "A beat", use something like "A revelation --". Because that implies both a slight pause between the thing, and reason for the pause.
LUKE
I told you, it's not supposed to be a date, she just wants to, um... talk a bit.
He realizes he doesn't want to reveal the true purpose of the rendezvous to her --
SUMMER
About what?
LUKE
... Nothing.
SUMMER
Does anybody in this town have anything to talk about? She sounds boring.
This elicits a faux gasp followed by a smile --
SUMMER (CONT'D)
Maybe you're perfect for each other. Match made in heaven.
LUKE
--Well, I'm not interested in her.
SUMMER
Alright, alright.
LUKE
Though I'll admit, the idea of making you jealous is appealing.
He smiles --
LUKE (CONT'D)
And if her wanting to go on a date with me makes her an airhead, then what does that make you?
SUMMER
Someone who, thank god, Luke... sobered up in time.
They chuckle. Their atrophied rhythm as a couple has found new footing in friendship.
In writing, I try to avoid the formulaic as much as I can, rather sometimes indulging a spontaneity or strangeness, but mostly allowing my trust in the characters to dictate the process. I know their voices will speak for themselves. I believe the character should inform the movement of the drama, not the inverse. You can allow inspiration to materialize like that, asking, how will each of these characters react differently to the given conflict, and what dramatic threads will sprout from those reactions? I do as much work to develop my characters as possible, to give them as much texture and doubleness as a real person possesses. I believe the contradictions of one’s spirit are one major factor that constitutes the depth of their character. One thing you hope to do is to allow the character’s intentions and backstories to seep through every decision, every line. I try to distill that into single expressions. Say I have a character who, in spite of their generous spirit, allows themselves the occasional pessimistic utterance, whether it helps the current situation or not. To use an example from The Healer, Thomas, who’s a character dwelling with tremendous feelings of circumstantial depression, is met with a suggestion to look on the bright side. He responds in the only way he can.
“Yeah, well, with every cloud and its silver lining, it’s still got a gray fuckin middle.”
You infer so much about him in just a single sentence. Of course, the additional goal in the long term after a line like that is to see the character grow to refute statements like that. And we do.
She flips through an old yearbook, smiles when she sees photos of her friends. The smile fades when she comes to her school portrait, where her face is scratched out.
SUMMER (CONT'D)
Wish I hadn't done that.
Her mother appears in the doorway --
TRACY
Kept everything the way it was, didn't know what you wanted to do with it.
SUMMER
Thanks.
TRACY
Look, I'm sorry... about... all that back there.
SUMMER
It's fine.
TRACY
... You know, whatever it may look like, it's tough. On all of us.
A detached shrug --
SUMMER
I'm past it.
Her mother can't get past her short answers, takes them as some sort of insult --
TRACY
Oh. Well good. Seems you're past a lot of things.
Summer raises her eyebrows and nods.
TRACY (CONT'D)
Come back like nothing happened, must be nice. You know, while you were out there, doin god knows what, things went to shit here.
SUMMER
I can tell.
She doesn't like this response either.
TRACY
Had a friend from my book club check up on your father yesterday morning while I was hard at work, she found him with another woman. Alright? Then he comes home and says he wants a divorce.
SUMMER
That why he's been staying in a motel?
She scoffs and squints --
TRACY
I don't know what you want from me.
The character’s backgrounds and experiences ought to inform their actions, and it’s through these actions that we learn what those backgrounds and experiences were, rather than a flash to white followed by the character goofing around in a fatsuit for a few seconds.
Summer stirs in her old room, speaking to her surfboard air freshener as she hangs it in the room --
SUMMER
So... Back, huh? All that time away, is it like you imagined? Like nothing changed?
She looks to the duffel bag on the floor --
SUMMER (CONT'D)
My day bag, hastily packed, only fit three outfits. Three outfits I've gone through already. Scrutiny of the closet exhibits how much tastes change over a four year absence...
She turns her attention back to the air freshener --
SUMMER (CONT'D)
So before I get a place, should I start fresh? My clothes, furniture, possessions, all relics of a passed era, everything now and forward untainted by the past?
An interval until --
SUMMER (CONT'D)
Nah... No, I'll have everything brought over from Santa Monica. Who says, in starting from scratch, you can't salvage what you can from the wreckage?
She hears her mother in another room --
SUMMER (CONT'D)
Speaking of wreckage.
I think, on some fundamental level, all creative endeavors are selfish. They blossom to be appreciated and appropriated by more people, but there’s some kind of sociopathic tendency one must intrinsically hold to think their work is worthy of consumption, especially on a large scale. Once you reckon with that and accept it on some level, you can begin to let yourself acknowledge your work as “good”, but only if it’s worthy.
He rubs the inside of his arm and resumes his line of questioning --
LUKE (CONT'D)
You know, if you are who I think you are, then that woman's tumor, was it not placed there by you? Don't you like to say everything's guided by your hand? ... And that bruiser with the concussion, was that wrong? Are there people I shouldn't help? If so, will you tell me, or am I left to my own judgements? And if they're wrong, will I know? Or will Mr. knife pay another visit?
He listens. No answer.
LUKE (CONT'D)
You know, for something that's made such a monumental request, you're pretty tight-lipped about it.
His hand passes over his abdomen, over the healed cut.
LUKE (CONT'D)
Alright, fine... whatever. Give me the strength to do it, I guess.
There’s an undeniable energy around work you know is good. When you move on to other things, though you try not to admit it, you can sense something’s missing.
I believe every detail, every word, every experience, the tight and messy, the good, the bad, it’s all ripe for rendering. You can draw on anything, and typically the more specific the inspiration is and more abstracted the rendering is, the better off you’ll be. The intention is to create something lasting and meaningful.
Of course, sometimes phrases appear in my notes like “show idea: alien with tits”, so make of that what you will.
© 2026, SAMUEL KINSELLA