Want to Add Flavor to Your Script? Sean Robert Daniels Shared Four Key Elements of Good Writing from The Screenwriters’ Cookbook on LSF Replay

The Four Elements: Salt, Acid, Fat, Heat 

These elements are basically the ways we have to manipulate our food to create a specific flavor experience. As with writing, elements require “balance”, but that doesn’t simply mean “in equal parts.” Balance requires insight into the elements themselves because you might want a dish that is saltier, or fattier, or al dente depending on your cuisine (genre) or diners (audience).

Salt = Voice

The main point Daniels wanted to make about salt when it comes to cooking is that it isn’t something you just add at the end. Salt must specifically be added right at beginning in order to bring out the natural flavors of your ingredients. And that’s when he started to draw parallels to the concept of voice.

There are a few different ways of thinking about a writer’s voice. Some would say it is literal word choice and formatting choices, while others, like Daniels, also zoom out farther. When asked to talk about voice in the Q&A, he used the example that Steven Spielberg movies almost always have an absent or bad father. This is something important to Spielberg on a deep level, or it wouldn’t keep coming back in his work. He would never go back and decide to add this theme after the fact, it’s baked in from the beginning. 

In other words, Daniels is saying that like salt in food, don’t be afraid to throw your voice, and by extension yourself, into the mix from the get go. I’m applying that tidbit right now as I plan out the sequences in my current script. I know that I am drawn to using big, juicy intercuts. I love to watch them, I love to write them. If I’m ever a “known” writer, that’s probably something people will identify as essential to my “voice.”

And while it is definitely possible to take existing scenes and rewrite them into an intercut later, I wouldn’t recommend it. You basically have to throw both scenes out and start again in order to get them flowing together and giving you the emotional beats that you need to do it effectively. But because I am already plotting the script with my voice (AKA foibles and preferences) in mind, I can sit down later and write that 7-page, three location intercut sequence and get it (mostly) right the first time. Besides being easier and more fun to do, the finished product is also going to be better because it was “baked in” all along.         

Acid = Contrast

Next up on our culinary journey is acid. In cooking this is your lemon juice, vinegar, or something else with a low pH level that gives it a sour or cutting flavor. Some ingredients can even be “cooked” just by soaking it in an acidic solution. (I’m looking at you ceviche) You might think then that the “acid” in writing has to do with conflict and negativity. And conflict is dynamic. 

However, Daniels uses acidity here instead to emphasize how we can use contrasting emotions of any kind to enhance the overall experience. Moving between moments of lightness and darkness gives more meaning to both. And any time you go from a slow, tense moment to something fast-paced, it can breathe new life into the story. But you also can’t expect your audience to be going 100 MPH all the time. Those slow moments to catch our breath and get to know the characters better are just as important. 

I like to use a spreadsheet for every project that is both an outline, but also my way to track various things. My current WIP is a college slasher meets folk horror movie that swings between dread and violence, with a heavy dose of sexual tension and relationship drama. So this time around, my spreadsheet has a column with designations like “creepy” vs. “social” so I have a visual way to confirm that I am balancing these contrasting types of scenes. And oftentimes, if I feel like a section isn’t quite working, it’s probably because it is too much of the same thing and could use with a tang to liven it up.  

Fat = Pizazz

Before we were all told to count carbs, fat was the target of weight loss gurus. It’s gotten a bad rap, and trust me, it’s a lot more vital to the flavor and texture of your food than you realize. Back in my 20s, I got gallbladder disease. Essentially, this meant that if I ate anything with any fat in it – AKA anything that tasted the least bit good – it felt like a hatchet was driven between my ribs. I tried cutting it from recipes or substituting lower fat alternatives, but I ended up with dry, bland food, or the return of the hatchet. (I tell ya, I didn’t believe that mouths actually “watered” at the smell of food until that painfully enforced diet.) After gaining this whole new appreciation for the role of fat in food, I understood Daniels’ view on “fat” in writing immediately.

“Fat” here means the “juicy” stuff. This is a bit more in line with that other understanding of “voice” that stems from word choices. Fatty moments are things that are fun to read even if they are a tad bit <gasp!> unfilmable. The mic drop moments in dialogue. The clever callbacks. The interesting formatting choices that make something jump off the page. Because even though you can regard a script as just a blueprint for a movie, a string of people have to read it and be engaged by your story long, long before anyone calls “Action!”

Granted, screenwriting is one of the “leaner” types of writing. The one-page, one-minute rule is hammered into us, so there’s pressure to trim all the nice, yummy fat right out. And no doubt some people do need to do more trimming than others. However, fatty writing isn’t the same as purple prose. Daniels used an iconic example from A Quiet Place of something dripping with “fat” that only used one word. 

…SNAP.

Heat = Care (Attention) 

I mentioned that acid can sometimes change the structure of an ingredient enough to consider it “cooked,” but most of the time cooking involves applying heat. There are many different ways to heat the same chicken breast, but the results will be very different depending on if it is flash fried or left to simmer. There are aspects of duration and attention that come with each method, and that’s where it ties into writing.

Let’s say you have a scene to write and you feel confident it will be easy to execute. If you are still working on it several hours later, there are two options. You were either wrong about the difficulty level, or you are overwriting it. Simmering until a golden brown is good. Turning it to rubber because you left it in the pan too long? Yuck. 

The same goes for a scene you know is very important or you know will be difficult to execute. If you only spend a little time working on it, you might be feeling pretty spiffy about your skills. However, that may also be an indication that you haven’t put in the time and effort needed to do it justice. It could tap into emotions you don’t want to feel or be a technical challenge you don’t feel confident tackling. You might need to let it bubble away on the back burner while you sort it out. Or the answer might be to really turn up the heat and push through what’s holding you back. 

Hungry for More?

I got a chance to watch his Screenwriters Cookbook talk through the LSF Replay series, which I can’t recommend enough. There’s a break this week, so the next one airs May 1. Marcus Markou will be sharing his insights into why and how we writers can be producing our own material. Register now to watch the replay live with your fellow writers on May 1 or get a link to enjoy later. 

In the meantime, you can always check out my other LSF Replay posts about creating engaging characters, using attachment theory to deepen their relationships, and putting them (and the writer) through their paces.