P.S. I am an Unemployed Screenwriter

When we walk we, first, entangle our thoughts, and then straighten them like a comb through hair. We observe the simplicity of the world around us and, in doing so, curtail our feelings, emotions, beliefs, hopes into a tangible, examinable solution to the fog that enshrouds our minds.

Writing enables us to experience a similar form of central elucidation, though, with a slight twist:

We walk a narrow path—and though we have the ability to stray from it—we are always limited to our initial surroundings (however much they may change with progress). Writing, conversely, expands in every direction, allowing us to add dimension upon dimension as we please. Walking allows us to get from “A” to “B”—we can never deviate from this mandatory principle since these two destinations can occupy any place that we choose. Writing is not bound by a directional foundation. It can start here…

And end here.

While simultaneously ending here.

We can reach two destinations at the same time through a single route that allows both ventures to coexist. This practice, which we will call “layering”, allows the writer to layer meaning on top of meaning. A singular set of words arranged in only one distinct order can encapsulate multiple, and immensely different, meanings.

Here’s an example:

“As the man received the award he looked at his father in the audience and smiled.”

This sentence can denote many, many things—here’s a few possibilities:
• A man smiled at his father.
• The man credited his father for his success.
• The man discredited his father’s belief that he would never amount to anything.

As we can see, the options are seemingly endless—inferences can be drawn in vast quantities by the minutest details (or a single sentence).

Concealing indirect details under the conceptual surface of words is an extremely basic technique that has been used for ages to covey symbols, themes, messages, etc.

*Dear screenwriters employed by giant production companies to write screenplays for mindless blockbusters,

This was for you. Believe it or not, you can add depth and meaning to a story without angering the greedy pigs that feed you money scraps from their box office feasts by concealing it below the surface.

I will prove this with one final example:

Animal Farm
• (For the stupid people that like explosions and your ill-tempered employers) A story about animals on a farm.
• (For the smart people) A critical, allegorical satire portraying the authoritarian society created by Joseph Stalin.