The Director’s Chair: Stephen Fingleton’s Writing Process [Podcast]
How do great screenwriters actually write? In this in-depth episode, BAFTA-nominated filmmaker Stephen Fingleton(The Survivalist, director of The Waif) joins John Schramm in the KinoLime studio to talk about the realities of screenwriting: from finding the right writing process and breaking story structure with index cards, to eliminating distractions, using Pomodoro timers, and learning how to fail faster.
Together they explore how to develop a winning concept, build a strong conflict engine, manage feedback, and sustain creative passion over time. Stephen also shares practical habits for drafting, rewriting, and balancing professional expectations with artistic freedom.
Whether you’re a beginner or a working writer, this conversation dives deep into screenwriting process, creative discipline, and how to finish what you start.
Full Transcript: Kinolime Podcast Episode 20: The Director’s Chair: Stephen Fingleton’s Writing Process
Participants:
John Schramm - Head of Development, Kinolime
Stephen Fingleton - Director, The Waif (Kinolime Production), The Survivalist (2015), Driver (2009)
John: It’s all about distraction-free writing. If you can write with distractions, God bless you—I can’t. Stephen likes to eliminate them, too. The bigger point: find what works for you. Try things out.
I know Tarantino buys a single notebook and a bunch of pens, then handwrites the entire screenplay. Others write on a laptop with seven apps open and phones buzzing. There’s no single “right” way: explore your process.
Why We’re Here: Process Talk & “The Waif”
John: Welcome again, Stephen, thanks for being in studio.
Stephen: Very glad to be here.
John: Stephen’s in New York because we’re doing development on The Waif screenplay, aiming to shoot in the spring. That led us to talk about writing process. You pulled a book from your backpack, one of the first screenwriting books I ever bought.
Stephen: 101 Screenwriting Tips: Habits of Highly Successful Screenwriters; we’ll post the exact title. It’s essentially writers answering process questions. We obsess over structure, but process, that “turning on the faucet every day” metaphor matters, too. A TV writer once told me: “Get your ass in the chair and write every day.”
John: Let’s dig into how you approach an original feature. Broad question, I know.
Stephen: First, decide what not to write. When you’re younger, you can spend months on something that has no place in the world or doesn’t connect with an audience. So step one is the idea, talk to people, pitch it, watch their reaction. I pitched The Waif a few days ago and could see the concept land.
The Conflict Engine
Stephen: Once you have the concept, figure out the conflict engine. The mechanism producing scenes. Even in drama, there’s an engine. In a chase film, for instance, one force wants proximity while another wants distance. That tension generates every scene.
John: Two great points: (1) Pitch your concept: friends, neighbors, baristas. You’ll feel what sticks. Fred Lebow (While You Were Sleeping) walks around for weeks just talking the idea out. (2) Find your conflict engine: story is conflict.
Stephen: Talking changes the idea. People latch onto certain parts. You also discover the best way to tell it.
From Concept to Story: Cards & Gaps
Stephen: Sometimes you can’t verbalize why an idea works, like a creature feature: monster, people, striking environment. You just know. I like index cards (compact size) and don’t mind them getting mixed up; reordering reveals interesting connections.
David Lynch used cards; so did Robert Rodriguez (he even gave his kids a box of cards and said, “This could make you a million dollars.”).
I learned a simple “fill the gaps” method from screenwriter Tod Davies: if you know your beginning and ending (or beginning/middle), ask: What happens between the first scene and the middle? Then, what happens between the first scene and the scene before that? Repeat to generate necessary beats efficiently.
Treatments, Scriptments & Time
John: How long do the cards and treatment take?
Stephen: Weeks, depending on whether it’s original or a rewrite. Originals are my favorite, freer. My treatment reads like a screenplay. I visualize everything to ensure it makes sense. Sometimes I write a longer scriptment (Cameron-style).
I like minimum viable story: the earliest coherent version to show someone, so you can walk away early if it’s not working. Avoid months lost on the wrong path.
“To Treatment or Not”: Efficiency vs. Exploration
John: Some writers are strict with treatments; others go loose or skip them. Greta Gerwig, for instance, reportedly writes a very long first draft and finds the movie in the process.
Stephen: The right question is: Which is faster for you? Will you reject a full draft anyway? I’m a professional. If work isn’t selling or hitting deliveries, my creative freedom shrinks. I optimize for efficiency, and I gravitate to genre. It’s an easier path to audience and it’s what I love. Experimental work sits on my back burner until I can fund it independently.
Drafting: Zero-UI Tools & Pure Text
Stephen: I used to handwrite; now I begin longform in ultra-minimal text editors. John August suggests using plain text to mimic the feel of handwriting: no formatting, just dialogue flow, the kernel of the scene.
I write in WordGrinder (free, very basic), then export rough pages and reformat. The point is concentration, no UI noise. I prefer Fade In for screenwriting; Final Draft is necessary later for scheduling, but I draft where I can keep a wall of text.
Other minimalist tools: Q, and on iPhone, Pieces. We also love those tiny e-ink/word processors with a few lines of text, great for focus.
Process Isn’t One-Size-Fits-All
John: Again, find what works. Tarantino’s single notebook. My laptop chaos. There’s no right way; explore.
Stephen: If you’re not actively discovering what works and what doesn’t, you’re not really writing. I met a young writer who’d been on the same script for ten years. I hope it’s a masterpiece but in most cases you need to fail faster and complete more cycles. Steven Pressfield calls it the Eastern Winds, that sabotage that blows you off course right before the finish.
Notes, Resistance & Owning Communication
John: Sharing work is scary: exposure, vulnerability, the “this is garbage” fear.
Stephen: Don’t listen to one person. I had a script rejected for two years until one actor got it. It wasn’t the script; it was the fit.
Also, cultivate self-critique. If readers keep missing something even if you’ve got two pages explaining it, that’s a communication failure on the page. If ten people give the same note, zoom in there. If it’s one outlier, don’t toss the baby out with the bathwater.
Reps, Craft & The Long Game
John: Oliver Stone wrote like crazy, even while driving a cab. Diablo Cody sold Juno and won an Oscar; rare. Most writers grind: multiple scripts, years of rejection, craft building. Aaron Sorkin says screenwriting is a profession where you get better with age.
Stephen: Sometimes the “overnight success” comes with a cost / high-pay studio assignments demand a different skill set (service rewrites, tight delivery). In indie rewrites you’re often elevating the acting, writing, motivations, and characterization so actors can say yes.
Sustaining Passion
John: How do some filmmakers sustain passion (Spielberg, Tarantino) while others fade?
Stephen: Michael Mann is complex. His film work on celluloid is stunning; his digital era is ugly yet revolutionary(Miami Vice is arguably an underrated near-masterpiece). Spielberg/Tarantino/Edgar Wright share an unabashed lifelong love of film. Peter Jackson’s passion may have been drained by The Hobbit cycle.
For me, there are still genres and competencies to master. I streamline the process so I can consistently output, not find excuses.
Rituals, Timers & Environments
Stephen: I use a Kitchen Safe. I lock my phone for two hours. When I worked at the Writers Guild writing room in LA, locking the phone meant I literally couldn’t leave (no Uber/Lyft), so I had to write.
I also use Pomodoro: 25-minute sprints, 3–5 minute breaks. I track how many Pomodoros I complete.
John: I work in 90-minute bursts, cognitive fatigue hits around then.
Stephen: Same principle, discover your cadence. I prefer public places; I can’t usually write at home (napping hazard!). Short naps can actually help; there’s that Edison trick, dozing with a metal ball so the drop wakes you at the edge of sleep, where ideas spark.
AI as Friction-Breaker (Use Wisely)
Stephen: Here’s where AI can be useful, not the cliché research use, but as a co-writer to break the blank page and get a rough draft out. Great action-prose stylists (Cameron, Kurt Wimmer, etc.) are hard to emulate. An LLM can approximate cadence with strong prompts.
I recently read an amateur script that “read” like it came from a rep, likely AI-assisted, though the underlying issues remained. It can get you moving, but craft still matters.
Stimulants, Crutches & Context-Free Rituals
John: Do you use “treats” to get into longform? I’ll promise myself an espresso in 90 minutes.
Stephen: I try to avoid crutches (coffee, modafinil), they work on deadline but can become dependencies. Better to build rituals independent of context so you can write anywhere. Mornings: maybe coffee. Afternoons: longer stretches, sometimes sleepy at first, then flow. A standing desk can help change the physical rhythm.
Empiricism, Confidence & Sticking to Your Guns
Stephen: Be empirical: test, iterate, accept writing that’s “not very good” early. Tune your ear for useful criticism but remember, 9 out of 10 people can be wrong if you know exactly why you’re right.
John: Guy Ritchie’s Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, everyone told him the title was too long. He stuck with it. Iconic.
Passionate Filmmakers & Final Takeaway
Stephen: Ritchie’s an interesting case. He sets the tone, isn’t micro-controlling, yet the work feels authored. Some of his recent departures (The Covenant / The Interpreter) show range; some swings miss. Still: passion.
John: We could talk for hours. Bottom line: write. Find your process. Steal tricks (Sorkin’s “change the weather” when stuck, a quick scene storm, a walk). Over time, your process solidifies but keep it adaptable.
Stephen: Exactly. Keep discovering. Keep finishing.
