How I create… with screenwriter Jack Thorne

Jack Thorne is an award-winning playwright and screenwriter whose work you will have undoubtedly encountered and admired.

Thorne’s most recent credits include the hugely successful and impactful Adolescence which he co-wrote with Stphen Graham, and the first television adaptation of William Golding’s Lord of the Flies.

Among his many other television credits are the powerful BAFTA award-winning drama National Treasure, This is England ‘86, ‘88 and ‘90, co-written with Shane Meadows, His Dark Materials, Toxic Town and The Accident, while Thorne’s work for the stage includes Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, The Motive and the Cue, and adaptations of Woyzeck and A Christmas Carol.

Thorne is also the union president of the Writers’ Guild of Great Britain and it’s in this guise that he joins us as part of our Creative Intelligence series in September, for a discussion on Authorship in the Age of AI.

Ahead of that talk, Thorne kindly gave us this look into his own, non-artificial, creative process.

When and where do you find yourself at your most creative?

I mean, I wish I had a time I could rely on. Sometimes it’s first thing, when things just tumble out. Other times it’s at the end of the day when I’m frustrated that I’ve wasted time on prevarication and I type angry. I think mainly I just type and hope and get ready to use ‘delete’ a lot.

How do you know when an idea is worth developing into something more?

Generally I look for two things, a sense of confusion and an ending. If I have a moral clarity, I tend to be in trouble. And if I don’t have an ending, I panic. That said I’m in the middle of something now with the vaguest of endings, and I’m quite enjoying the panic.

Which tools are key to your creative process?

I can write anywhere, as long as I have a pen and something to write on. I prefer to write in an office at the back of the house. I prefer silence but sometimes I work best in the middle of the loudest spaces because it forces me to create silence in my brain. The tools I need intellectually? I’m still unsure, I hope I work it out soon.

Who are you creating your work for, and how free are you to create the work you want to create?

There’s two answers to that I suppose. I’m not a novelist, I am someone who is generally working for a buyer – be that a channel or a streamer or a studio. Because of that my work is a negotiation. But if you have the right partners in that negotiation, the work produced can sometimes be a hundred times better than the work I’d do on my own. In terms of who I’m creating work for – an other I don’t quite understand, a world I see the mess in – it’s impossible to answer that question without sounding quite grand.

How do you stay disciplined, and dedicated to your work?

By realising I’m incredibly lucky, and panicking that the luck will run out.

What do you do when you hit a wall; when you feel unmotivated or uninspired? How do you overcome this?

I keep trying and typing.

Who do you look to for feedback?

My first reader is Mariella Johnson, she’s head of TV at my company. For five years she’s given me extensive notes on everything I do. It goes wider only once I’ve worked with her. From there, it’s whoever I’m lucky enough to be working with.

How different is your creative process now to when you first began as an artist?

It’s pretty much the same. An adrenaline ride of confusion and hope. I think I’ve managed to inject an inch of calmness into it.

What does success feel like?

It’s when people that you haven’t heard from in a while email you and tell you that they’ve taken something from something you’ve made.

Is there a piece of advice you’ve received that you often find yourself returning to?

It was from a woman called Sue Hogg who told me I was ruining the project for her and everyone around me because I wasn’t trusting that they cared as much as I did.

What’s the most recent thing you learned about yourself through your work? 

That I’m lonely. But I’ve learnt that a lot.

How do you know when you’re done?

Press night.