Writer Mike Flanagan Answers: “What I’d Tell My Younger Self About Breaking Into Screenwriting”

Mike Flanagan is known for The Haunting of Hill House, a critically acclaimed Netflix series that redefined modern horror. Blending supernatural elements with a deeply emotional exploration of grief and family trauma, the show showcased Flanagan’s signature style—intimate, character-driven storytelling wrapped in a genre.

Make It About Something Before You Make It A Genre

Like many writers starting out, I thought in terms of concept. I wanted to write a haunted house story, something spooky, something that hit the genre mark. But I didn’t yet understand that a concept is just a vehicle — the engine is the emotional core underneath it.

For example, Junior Mike would have been trying very hard to write a show about a haunted house when I was doing The Haunting of Hill House,” I should write a show about death and grief and how a family processes it. And then write a show about a haunted house on top of that. Find the way that they can work together.

It’s never just about the ghosts. It’s about what they mean. The supernatural in Hill House was just a manifestation of a deeper trauma. That’s why it resonated. It wasn’t a haunted house story — it was a story about a broken family, told through the lens of a haunted house.

Find the Balance Between Meaning and Market

One of the hardest things for any writer is figuring out how to tell the stories they care about and give those stories a chance to actually get made.  “It took me a long time to understand how to find that balance between viability,” I’ve said in interviews, “Make something that has a chance to find its audience and can speak to producers, executives and studios.”

We’re often told that writing from the heart and writing for the marketplace are two separate goals. But the most successful work finds a way to bridge them. The way to do that is to write something personal in a way others can access. It’s not about diluting your vision — it’s about translating it so people can feel it.

Your Voice Is What Audiences Remember

When people talk about a writer’s brand, it can sound like marketing talk. But in reality, it’s just your emotional fingerprint — the themes you return to, the questions you can’t stop asking in most of your work.

For me, those questions are about loss, belief, guilt, and redemption. They show up whether I’m writing horror, mystery, or something more grounded. That’s not by design — it’s just where the stories live for me.

Emerging writers often try to emulate others. But what makes your work memorable is the thing that makes it “uniquely yours”. Your voice doesn’t come from being clever. It comes from being honest.

Feedback Is a Mirror, Not a Battle

When I first started getting feedback on my work, I resisted. I thought the story lived perfectly in my head — and anyone who didn’t get it just wasn’t “getting it.”

“A story lives a certain way in your head, but it cannot only live in your head. And the story is only improved by stepping out of yourself and looking at it through someone else’s point of view, which is our whole job as a filmmaker.”

This was one of the most important — and humbling — lessons of my career. Notes aren’t always right, but they’re “always useful”. They tell you when and where something didn’t land. And even if the note itself isn’t the solution, it often points to a problem you haven’t seen.

Genre Isn’t a Gimmick — It’s a Tool

I love horror, not because it’s scary, but because it allows us to explore things we’re often too afraid to face directly: death, faith, addiction, shame, forgiveness. These are heavy topics — and genre gives us a way to tackle them in bold, engaging ways.

In Midnight Mass, the vampire story isn’t the point. It’s the canvas. The story is about belief, mortality, and the cost of absolution.

So don’t start with, “What’s a cool horror idea?” Start with, “What’s something I’m afraid to confront?” Then let the genre help you get there.

You’re Not Lecturing — You’re Communicating

Finally, I’d tell my younger self: remember that storytelling is a two-way street. You’re not just performing for an audience — you’re in conversation with them.

If someone gets confused, or disengaged, or bumped by something in your script, don’t take it personally. Ask why. Ask what they saw — or didn’t — that pulled them out. Then go back and ask if your intention was clear.

The goal isn’t just to be heard. It’s to be understood.

Don’t Be Perfect — Be Honest

There’s so much I’d want to tell younger Mike — and any screenwriter starting out — but it really comes down to this:

Write from a place of emotional truth. Let genre be a tool, not a crutch. Be open to collaboration. And always remember that it’s not enough to write a script that works — you have to write one that matters.

Write something only you could write. And then do the work to make sure someone else can feel it too.

by Staff Writer

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