The Alchemy of the Sixth Draft: Why I Over-Research and Under-Write:
There is a specific kind of silence that exists in a room when you’re staring at a blank page, one that feels less like peace and more like an interrogation.
As a writer—and perhaps a by-product of my M.A. years—I’ve learned that the only way to answer that silence is with a mountain of evidence.
People often ask why my process feels more like a forensic investigation than a "creative spark." To me, writing isn’t about waiting for a muse; it’s about architectural integrity.
The Geometry of the Genre:
Before a single line of dialogue is etched into a script, I dive deep into the structural blueprints of the genre.
A noir thriller doesn’t breathe the same air as a period drama, and their story arcs shouldn’t share the same skeletal structure.
I spend weeks (if possible) researching the specific "emotional beats" expected by an audience. For instance, if I’m tackling a Hero's Journey, I don't just follow the steps; I investigate why those steps resonate psychologically. I look for the subversions—where can the "Road of Trials" be bent to reflect a modern struggle? This research ensures that the arc isn't just a trope, but a deliberate, reinforced bridge from the first act to the third.
Recently, I have had the pleasure of working with multi-award winning indie-filmmaker, writer & director: Trevor Hayward, and we have had, (and continue to have), a unique working relationship where he would specifically write ten synopsis breakdowns for ten individual short films and then subsequently hand them over to me. I would then be tasked and trusted with writing the full story-arcs, breakdowns and eventual screenplay.
For me, it was an incredibly liberating and refreshing way to work, as it was the first time I had collaborated on written projects, and when I felt that something wasn’t working, I could ask for Trev’s input and opinion, which of course is a luxury. Even if it sometimes meant calling him in the early hours saying “I’m fucking stuck on the second draft! Help me or Kill me”! Needless to say, he always helped, and we got through to the final draft eventually!
Thanks Trev for being not just my co-writer, but my rock too!
The Rule of Five (Drafts, That Is):
I have a personal mandate: Never trust a thought until it has survived four iterations. My scripts are forged in the fires of revision. Here is how that "Descent into the Fifth Draft" usually looks:
* The "Vomit" Draft: Purely for getting the shape of the thing down. It’s messy, the pacing is wonky, and the dialogue is often placeholders.
* The Structural Audit: This is where my postgraduate training kicks in. I tear the script apart to ensure the story arc holds weight. If the midpoint doesn't pivot the stakes, it gets gutted.
* The Character Polish: Every character gets a "pass" to ensure they have a unique linguistic fingerprint.
* The Subtext Pass: I look for what isn’t being said. I strip away the obvious and bury the meaning in action and silence.
* The Final Polish: This is the "Sixth Draft" mentality—the version that is lean, evocative, and ready for the world.
Why the Rigor?:
Writing, for me, is an act of empathy balanced by precision. I research the "content" of my arcs—whether it’s the legal technicalities of a courtroom drama or the historical socio-economics of a 1920s setting—because specificity is the root of believability. If I don’t know the exact weight of the world I’m building, the reader will feel the hollowness. I write five-plus drafts because I want to remove the "writer" from the room. By the time the final script is done, I want the story to feel like it wasn't written at all, but rather, simply found.
It’s an exhausting, meticulous, and sometimes maddening way to work. But when that final draft hums with the resonance of a well-researched truth?
That’s when the interrogation ends.
- Emily Faulkner -
2/2/2026
