Mastering The Art of Screenplay Writing: An Honest Guide to Themes, Pacing, and Dialogue
I’ve only ever worked in two short movies, and damn, I’ve learned a lot. And guess what? I’m about to make a short series soon because, obviously, Hollywood is waiting for me with open arms. Okay, maybe not Hollywood yet, but some dark corner of YouTube where cinephiles and depressed artists lurk. Either way, I’m about to bless the world with my storytelling genius.
But first, let’s talk about screenwriting. You know, that magical thing that turns “dude fights bad guys” into “John Wick makes us question our loyalty to our own pets.” Today, I’m breaking down everything you need to know about writing a killer screenplay—using my own script (not that AI-generated blandness). Enter: “I Love You, Love…”, part 1 of my short series script that’s dripping with drama, tension, and betrayal. Let’s dissect this beast and get into the nitty-gritty of what makes a screenplay work.
Catch a support chair or something, for this Reaper is going to change tones and sing you poetry.
THEME: AKA, WHAT THE HELL IS MY STORY REALLY ABOUT?
Alright, before I even thought about writing, I needed a theme. A theme is like the moral of the story but without the Disney-fied, happily-ever-after bullshit. It’s the why behind my story. If you don’t have a theme, congrats, you’re writing a two-hour-long TikTok skit with no purpose.
In “I Love You, Love…”, the theme revolves around love, betrayal, and moral conflict. My boy Arghya is stuck between emotions and duty, and nothing screams “bad day” more than realizing your lover is on the FBI’s most-wanted list. The story asks, Can love survive deception? (Spoiler: No. Also, bang.)
But let’s go deeper. This isn’t just about betrayal on a personal level—it’s also about the bigger forces at play. Governments, morality, what it means to be innocent, and who decides that. Arghya is a cog in a machine, and that machine is telling him that the woman he loves is a monster. That’s what makes the theme layered and compelling—it’s not just a love story, it’s a story about power, control, and how personal emotions clash with larger ideological battles.
A strong theme makes a story feel important. If I were just writing a “cool idea” without meaning, I’d basically be making the cinematic equivalent of junk food. Tasty, but forgettable(Well, not pizzas though. I love them!).
PACING: BECAUSE NO ONE WANTS TO WATCH PAINT DRY
Screenwriting is all about tight pacing. If my script drags, even Spielberg won’t save my ass. Every scene in my screenplay should move the story forward—either by building tension, revealing character, or hitting emotional beats. If your scene does none of these things? Cut it. Yes, even if it’s your favorite scene where your character dramatically stares out the window while moody music plays. CUT. IT.
Take a look at the summary of my “I Love You, Love…”—notice how it’s a rollercoaster of emotions?
I start with mystery (Arghya nervously stirring his coffee, a blurry text message looming like an execution order). Boom. The audience is hooked.
I hit emotional flashbacks (his happy memories, slowly darkening into something sinister). This gives the audience just enough to feel something without overstaying its welcome.
Then we get the big reveal (she’s labeled a terrorist, but is she really?). Now the stakes are higher than my caffeine addiction.
And finally, BOOM—gut-wrenching climax. The moment the tension was building toward.
Not a single scene overstays its welcome. This is what we call lean storytelling—get in, stab the audience in the heart, get out. I don’t spend five pages describing how the coffee shop smells. I don’t have long monologues that could put an insomniac to sleep. Every scene is intentional. That’s what makes pacing work.
DIALOGUE: WHERE 90% OF WRITERS FAIL MISERABLY
Dialogue is not “talking.” It’s not that crap you hear when you eavesdrop at Starbucks (although, sometimes that is gold). In a screenplay, dialogue should be sharp, loaded with subtext, and never say what it really means.
Example from my script:
Why this exchange works? Because it’s not just words—it’s tension, deception, and a ticking time bomb wrapped in a seemingly innocent moment. The audience feels something is off, but the characters aren’t spelling it out. That’s subtext at its finest.
But imagine if I had written it like this:
THE GIRL: Oh no, you are planning to kill me, aren’t you?
ARGHYA: Yes, you betrayed me, and now I must end you.
…Ugh. This reads like a bad video game cutscene. Good dialogue is all about rhythm and subtlety. I let the audience feel the weight without spoon-feeding them. Less is more.
And remember—people don’t always say what they mean. The best dialogue has subtext. If someone is breaking up with their lover, they don’t say, “I don’t love you anymore.” They say, “We’re not the same people we used to be.” It hits harder(and is more toxic, which I love).
VISUAL STORYTELLING: SHOW, DON’T TELL (OR I’LL HUNT YOU DOWN)
A screenplay is NOT a novel. If my script is drowning in inner thoughts, backstory, and explanations, congratulations—you’ve written a terrible movie. A screenplay is meant to be seen.
Let’s look at how “I Love You, Love…” works out visual storytelling:
Without saying a word, this single moment tells us everything we need to know—the mug is emotionally significant, it ties into his past, and it’s probably going to be important later (spoiler: it is). This is how you do it.
Compare that to:
ARGHYA (thinking): This mug reminds me of my past love. It makes me sad.
NO. NO. NO. If I write like this, I will personally delete my script from existence. Show, don’t tell.
WRITE LIKE A FILMMAKER, NOT A FANFICTION AUTHOR
Screenwriting is about precision, impact, and knowing what to cut. If you master that, your story will stick. Now go forth, write something badass, and don’t suck. (And meanwhile wait for my masterpiece!)
