How to Escape the Box You've Become Trapped in as an Artist
More than 20 filmmakers, novelists, and comic book writers from around the globe weigh in about how to avoid being put in a box and, if it's already happened to you, how to break free
“Oh, how I want to be free, baby
Oh, how I want to be free
Oh, how I want to break free”
-Queen
If you’re a regular reader of 5AM StoryTalk, you might know this already, but for those who don’t: I broke into the film/TV business by writing what I was told were “really smart reimaginings” of 19th-century adventure and horror novels such as The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Dracula. I think many of them were exactly that. In fact, I think that’s why my take on Dracula was greenlit straight to series by NBC and Sky (which is one of the few good things that I can say about that show). But the quality of my work began to devolve as it became clear I wouldn’t be allowed to do anything except exactly what everyone already wanted from me - which was another way of saying I was trapped on a creative hamster wheel, going nowhere fast. Oh, I’d be told I would get that opportunity…eventually. It would come with success was another bit of advice I endlessly received from reps. But even with a TV series on the air, I still heard questions like, “Have you ever thought about what you’d do with H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine?” on a regular basis from producers. It all came to a head when, in the same month, I was asked to consider writing a feature about The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and another feature about Dracula.
Essentially, in the seventh year of my career as a professional screenwriter, I was already being asked to reboot myself.
This became one of the chief motivations for my family leaving Hollywood for the United Kingdom, which seemed like the only way I’d ever break free of this Victorian fiction box I’d been put into. It worked, too.
This June, I decided to ask more than twenty other artists how they’ve handled the problem of the dreaded “box” - when peers and employers begin to only see you as one thing and find it increasingly impossible to imagine you as anything else. (Sometimes, this even extends to audiences that come to expect a very specific “product” from artists they are fans of.)
This is the specific question I posed to these artists:
A question that comes up repeatedly – and which I know I have struggled with in my career – is: how do you avoid being put in a box as a storyteller and, if you are, how would you advise escaping it? Such as, being trapped as a horror novelist or a comedy screenwriter when your narrative ambitions are much broader than that.
Below, you will find the responses I received. In addition to the variety of mediums these artists work in, they represent a diverse range of voices and cultural backgrounds from across the globe - including the United States, United Kingdom, Canada, and Australia. More so than previous installments in this series, this one feels weighted toward American film/TV, but I think that’s my fault for being most interested in how some of my peers have handled one of the great obstacles of my career. Hopefully, their perspectives and experiences will be of some help to you as you navigate your own creative journeys.
AMY BERG (showrunner/executive producer, “LAW & ORDER: ORGANIZED CRIME”)
Every time I’ve been on a show or sold a pilot, I’m immediately put into that box. At various stages in my career, I’ve been labeled a sci-fi writer, a soap writer, a thriller writer, a fantasy writer, a crime writer, and a historical fiction writer. It makes everyone else’s life easier if you stay in a lane. For executives, producers, even your own reps. And I get it. They don’t have to think about what projects you might be right for…it all fits in the same box. And honestly, that might actually be a good thing if you’re just starting out in your career. It’s hard enough to get people’s attention, and harder still if your work doesn’t define who you are as a writer.
But being in a box is a pain in the ass once you’ve been in the business for a while. And if you’re like me, you get bored doing the same thing over and over.
The only way to really break out of it is to write your way out of it. Every time it felt like a label was starting to stick to me, I’d write a new sample or a new pilot spec that was a left turn from what I’d just done. And it’s forced people to reevaluate what they think I can do - because I’m not one kind of writer. I want to be able to do anything and have people believe I have it in me to knock it out of the park.
Amy is a U.S.-based screenwriter.
CAVAN SCOTT (architect/author, STAR WARS: THE HIGH REPUBLIC)
I've struggled myself with this, but for a different reason, I guess. I've worked on IP for most of my career - comics, books and audios set in someone else's worlds, whether that's Star Wars, Doctor Who, or even Penguins of Madagascar for a while. Without blowing my trumpet too much — I am British, after all — I'm good at it. I get the work done, rarely miss deadlines and don't quibble — that much — about notes. But it has left me pigeonholed as that “IP” writer. It was worse for a while when I had a run of working on middle-grade or children's properties. One experienced senior comics editor once said they were surprised that Lucasfilm had asked me to co-create The High Republic. "Why are they asking him?! He's the kid's guy." They actually said that to me with a straight face. Thankfully, they also admitted I'd proved that I could handle other things.
So, how have I broken out of it? Well, I think to a lot of people, I'm still that “IP” guy, but I've made some progress recently by doing things myself. At a time when I was mainly writing kid's stuff, I desperately wanted to write horror comics- so I did, on the side, creating new characters and teaming up with artists for wonderfully gory and hopefully scary stories that eventually found homes. And I made sure I talked about horror whenever possible - which, to be honest, is my default behavior. Social media...in meetings...I'd get in there that I was a horror fan who was actively writing horror alongside my regular stuff. Basically, I stopped waiting for permission from someone else to write what I wanted and gave myself permission to get stuck in.
Oh, this isn't to knock the IP stuff at all. I still do a ton of franchise work and it's certainly been helping as I've shifted from comics and tie-in novels to TV and animation work. Having a long back catalogue of major IPs is suddenly very useful at a time when IP is king!
Cavan is a U.K.-based novelist, comic book writer, and screenwriter. I encourage you to subscribe to his newsletter here.
MEG LeFAUVE (screenwriter, INSIDE OUT 2)
Well here’s the thing — if you are an emerging writer, I say get into a box. Agents and managers need to know how to sell you - what your “brand” is. If you have one script that is a quiet family drama and another that is sci-fi action and you’re pitching a broad comedy, they won’t “get” you. I know that a “brand” can be how you approach all those genres — for me it’s emotional storytelling — but when starting out, they need a single lane. Be that reliably and get into the river - get a career going. Once that has happened and you have reliably delivered, then you branch out. If you’ve had several assignments in the horror genre that were well received, and you bring your agent that quiet family drama that still has your voice in it — then they can pivot and send you out to producers who make those quiet dramas with the assurance that you are a reliable, creative, insightful writer because you’ve been in the trenches in the other genre. Lastly, I’d say to established writers looking to move into a new genre/type of story, find the producers of the genres you like/write - the producers who have made films in the different “boxes” you want to be in. The producers will be the ones to champion the project and you — and it will be a single project focus so the “branding” won’t be as big an issue. It will still be an issue to buyers, but the producer can help with that (find the angle/sell).
Meg is a U.S.-based screenwriter and the host of the podcast The Screenwriting Life, which I encourage you to check out. You can read my artist-on-artist conversation with her here.
THUNDER LEVIN (screenwriter, SHARKNADO)
This is something I’ve been dealing with every day for the past ten years. For years before Sharknado, I was a writer/director with an emphasis on director. I worked in several genres from horror to sci-fi to action. I was originally supposed to direct Sharknado as well as write it, but then another film I’d written ended up being scheduled for exactly the same time, and since I’d already done one somewhat tongue-in-cheek film — called Mutant Vampire Zombies From The ‘Hood!, I decided to let someone else tackle the flying fish while I went off into the rain forest in Costa Rica to shoot my science-fiction adventure AE (which was later re-titled AE: Apocalypse Earth). The two films were finished almost simultaneously with AE being released in May of 2013 and Sharknado scheduled for a July premiere on Syfy Channel. And then of course Sharknado exploded on Twitter and seemed to take over the world. After being an essentially unknown filmmaker for years, I was suddenly getting more press requests than I could respond to. I appeared on shows from “Good Morning America” to “Today in Australia” and everything in between - and every one of the shows referred to me as a writer.
Almost overnight my career was completely redefined without my permission! The inevitable sequels to Sharknado kept me employed as a writer and, since the film’s director stayed with the franchise, that was it. The success of Sharknado got me a lot of Hollywood meetings, but in every one of them, when I mentioned I was a director first and foremost, I’d get a patronizing look that said “Yeah, writers always want to direct. Good luck with that.” And at the same time, if I tried to pitch more serious material, the response seemed to be, “But you do campy stuff”. Basically, everything I’d done before Sharknado apparently didn’t count anymore.
A glance at my IMDB page will tell you I’ve had very limited success changing either of these impressions. I accepted the Zombie Tidal Wave writing job because it was supposed to have more of an indie drama feel to it, but then Syfy kept pushing it towards the campy end of the spectrum during development. Who could blame them? It came from “the team that brought you Sharknado’. At that point, I decided that I just wouldn’t do any more of that type of film. I’d push for more “grounded” stories — even if they were science fiction stories set in space — and I’d insist on directing. Things were looking up when I put together financing for indie film in early 2020. But that project collapsed due to the pandemic and, while several projects have come close, nothing else has gone into production since.
So the answer to your question is, “I don’t know.”
But I sure hope to figure it out soon.
Thunder is a U.S.-based filmmaker.
MICHELE MULRONEY (screenwriter, SHERLOCK HOLMES: A GAME OF SHADOWS)
Some writers are very content — and successful — staying in a specific lane. If you have broader narrative ambitions, be ready to set time aside to spec new material that showcases a different genre skillset or a different tonal flair. Sometimes, the best and fastest way to get out of your ascribed box is to prove on paper that you have broader chops. If you work with a manager or agent, it's important to choose someone who talks about you around town as a versatile writer who can "do anything". Your rep has to believe — and then communicate — the breadth of your abilities and interests. So, perhaps consider a reset with them where you ask them to put you up for a job that may seem to fall outside the box you've been working in, and then back up that submission with a spec or sample that proves what you can do. We all have an opportunity with every script we write to showcase our buffet of skills - if you're writing an R-rated comedy, look for those moments where you can find real, grounded emotion and showcase your dramatic chops. If you're working on a fast-paced action piece where plot and story are front and center, find those moments where you can slow down and showcase your character work. In an intense WWII spy thriller, find those unexpected moments of levity and dark humor.
Michele is a U.S.-based screenwriter. She is also the Vice-President of the Writers Guild of America.
DUANE SWIERCZYNSKI (author, CALIFORNIA BEAR)
This question has always dogged me. My first novel, Secret Dead Men, written back in the late ’90s, was a genre mash-up, blending a detective story with science-fiction, horror, and dark comedy. When I was trying to sell it, editors liked the writing, but said they didn’t know where they’d place it in bookstores. So when it came time to write novel #2, I decided, “Okay, I’m going to make this a pure crime novel about a getaway driver. No aliens, no ghosts, just cars and gun and bad guys.” The Wheelman was bought by St. Martin’s Press, and presto, I was a newly-minted crime writer. But I still had a head full of horror and sci-fi ideas struggling to find a home.
When I think about it, I realize that my favorite writers tend to not work in a single genre. They are their own genre. Take Elmore Leonard. You can try to pin him down as “oh yeah, the cool western guy” or “the king of Detroit noir” or “the satirist who gave us Get Shorty" or whatever. But the specific genre or brand isn’t what attracts me to his work. It’s Leonard’s unmistakeable voice, his style, his story choices. All of the ingredients he chooses when whipping up a dish, as well as how he cooks and plates it. So, that’s what I aspire to: not being a crime or horror writer per se, but simply write the best “Duane Swierczynski” novels I can. My current work-in-progress will probably be marketed as a “mystery” or “crime” novel, but I’m very consciously baking in all kinds of subgenres — procedural, western, horror, family saga — because…well, those are my impulses as a writer.
Duane is a U.S.-based author and comic book writer. His latest novel, CALIFORNIA BEAR, was released in January.
MIKE ROYCE (developed by/showrunner, “ONE DAY AT A TIME” 2017)
It’s definitely tough to change people’s minds about how they’ve pigeonholed you into doing a certain thing, which to be fair, is usually because they think you’re really good at that thing! They want you to keep doing the thing that they know you’re good at because they have confidence and prior proof that you’re good at it. In an industry that runs a lot on vibes, execs want something that their bosses will see as a slam dunk, and that’s usually “writer who does this thing well wants to sell us a thing in that area.”
So here’s that advice that is so annoying, but is indeed the first step in this scenario: you have to write an amazing version of the new type of thing you want to do. You can’t spread your wings with something mediocre. And then if possible, have somebody read it who has a good reputation in that area, who can vouch for you. For example if you’re a drama person who writes a comedy, get your most talented comedy writer friend to read your script, help with it, and if possible, proclaim that it’s great to someone who matters. This is all so much easier said than done, so I’m annoying myself now. But that’s kind of the way.
Of course the easiest way to escape your box is to have a big-time actor like Ray Romano want to co-create the project and be in it, which is how I got to switch over to drama. But even after the critical success of “Men of a Certain Age” — it didn’t last long, but we won a Peabody — pretty much everything I was offered after that was in comedy. Which I love! But the experience was emblematic of how tough it can be to break out of your box.
Mike is a U.S-based screenwriter.