Tell Me about Yourself, but Make It Scary

What makes a hit movie at the box-office? If you’re going by the Top 20 domestic movie grosses thus far this year (2025), you would say it was franchise films. IP. Brands. Movies based on previously established material. In fact, 90% of the top 20 performing films stem from IP – that’s 18 of 20 films.

The other two are horror movies. This is no coincidence, as horror fans tend to be more open to paying money to see original stories, not just franchise extensions.

As for the titles in question, the only completely original, non-IP-driven movies in the box-office top 20 are Sinners and Weapons.

Sinners and Weapons are the creations of two successful writer-directors, Ryan Coogler and Zach Cregger, respectively. Both films have cleaned up in theaters and will have a long life in aftermarkets, not only because horror film fans tend to be more open to original works, but expressly because these movies are unique, emotionally powerful stories that focus on characters who feel like real people dealing with relatable issues and themes. The draw was not the brand, or even the core archetypes (vampires and witches), it was the stories and their distinctive POV that sucked us in and made us care about the characters and their worlds.

In short, these films feel authentic, even though they incorporated some well-trod genre devices.

How did their creators give it authenticity? By making it personal. Exploring characters and themes close to them as they told a well-structured story built on an architecture of fear that can be taught and learned (in my upcoming webinar on December 18, 2025). The first step is to ask a simple question.

Authenticity and universality are two key aspects to creating a horror story that has the potential to really connect with readers and viewers.

The best way to be authentic is to “be yourself.” Write about topics, situations and personal experiences that you know and have strong feelings about. The more specific, the better. If you work as a claims adjuster, make your protagonist a claims adjuster and add a lot of details that only an insider would know. If you’re dealing with the loss of a loved one, you could explore your grief through your protagonist’s journey. And if these elements are relatable to others, you have the benefit of universality.

But in horror, universality also comes from the primal fear that you are exploring in your story. I recommend you start by asking yourself what scares you? If you can identify a strong, recurring fear, say fear of the dark or fear of drowning, chances are there are a million people out there who share this phobia.

Both authenticity and universality usually speak to THEME, a vital core element that I suggest you identify before you start writing, but your process is up to you. Stephen King famously begins with a scary situation and just starts writing, finding the theme as he keeps banging out pages. Not everyone is a pantser like King, so I like to stress the process of developing your narrative from your central, or “meta” Theme. If your structure is how you’re telling this story, theme is why you are writing this story. You can’t confuse the two. Here are some examples.

I often begin with the example of Jordan Peele’s Get Out, the story of a young Black photographer who finds himself slowly ensnared by a cult of elderly, white psychopaths who are implanting their brains into the bodies of young, Black victims. The engine is Chris investigating the strange behavior, then having to escape once he’s captured. That’s the story.

But what it’s about is “second chances.” It’s about Chris’ struggle to forgive himself for his mother’s death. The deer they hit with their car at exactly 10 minutes into the film is a metaphor for his mother, who also died of a car accident. Most of the supporting characters also reflect the “second chances” theme.

Ryan Coogler’s Sinners is a very deep movie with powerful metaphors, but the theme that stands out the most to me is “the fight to preserve cultural heritage.” The two brothers have come home to their small town to open a juke joint, a safe haven where their community of oppressed people can be free to celebrate their musical heritage. They buy the building from a Klansman, who by his very nature seeks to preserve his distorted sense of an ideal heritage. Then there’s the vampires – they’re trying to get inside the juke joint to feed on victims to increase their numbers. They want others to join them in their cursed immortality, essentially to preserve their way of life. They even attempt to use their own music to gain entry into the juke joint. It’s no coincidence that all of the vampires share a hive mind that spreads memories and culture amongst the entire coven. A stirring moment occurs when the head vampire steals the Chinese language from one of his victims.

Zach Cregger has publicly stated that his inspiration for Weapons was to write about his experience of growing up with parents who were addicts. When Alex’s parents become possessed by his Aunt Gladys, he becomes the caregiver of the house, a latchkey kid, not unlike the child of addicted parents. Julia Garner’s Justine Gandy is an alcoholic, barreling down a self-destructive path from the get-go. Another character, Paul, is a drug addict looking for a fix when he runs across hungry Gladys. Several other symbols and situations arise that also suggest an allegory for addiction.

Cregger may make outrageous horror films for a commercial audience, but they are personal to him. Like most writers, he seeks to understand himself better through his work.

Next, consider Coralie Fargeat’s bloody fable, The Substance. Although it’s a riff on classical works like The Picture of Dorian Gray or Frankenstein, it feels fresh because of the contemporary, relatable thematics. It’s the story of a faded star who turns to a dangerous “Elixir of Youth” to turn back the clock, but her addiction and hubris cause her to ignore all warnings and circumvent the rules, leading to ghastly consequences. It’s not the crazy hijinks that we relate to, it’s Elizabeth’s inner turmoil over being replaced in a job and society that values youth over all else. That’s what it’s about: the fruitless pursuit of youth that leads to destruction.

The films I’ve cited thus far all had decent budgets due to the presence of name actors and experienced directors with strong track records. So how about a lower-budget film from emerging filmmakers? Let’s look at one.

Late Night With the Devil was the breakout feature for sibling directors Colin and Cameron Cairnes. Incorporating elements of analog horror, "found footage" and documentary filmmaking, the film follows the events of Jack Delroy (played by David Dastamalchian), a desperate late-night talk show personality who hosts a live episode on Halloween night in 1977, during which he attempts to boost ratings by inviting an allegedly possessed girl onto the show. During the resulting ordeal, it comes out that Jack may have made his own deal with the devil which led to the death of his wife one year prior. This is his “sin” that provides a character-based mystery with emotional stakes (What’s he hiding?) in addition to the central plot mystery (Is the girl really possessed?).

Jack’s backstory of grief over his wife’s death from cancer and the surprising reveal of his true involvement in this tragedy, all of which stem from his ambition and desperation, make him a fascinating character and more relatable than your average protagonist in the demonic possession genre. Throw in the period setting and the ticking time clock (events unfold as they are live on-air) and you have a fascinating scenario that no doubt fueled a fantastic logline and generated interest from investors.

Further research shows how the story was also very personal to the Cairnes brothers. Their own sense of nostalgia (as kids, they stayed up late and watched a peculiar Australian talk show that often featured paranormal topics and guests) met with their knowledge of television (they’ve worked in live TV) and they saw true relevance in the setting (The “Satanic panic” of the 70s was a time of paranoia, distrust and media exploitation that they felt was relevant to today.) I see it as they merged the personal, a strong childhood memory, with the practical, their on-the-job experience in television, and the relevant, issues we face today.

Personal. Practical. Relevant. A powerful combination.

What do you struggle with? What are you trying to understand about yourself, your personal history and culture? What specific aspect of modern society intrigues or troubles you? Can you explore these themes while also telling a really cool vampire thriller or a ripping werewolf yarn?

If it scares you, chances are it just might scare us, too.

If you’d like to learn more about my Horror Story Map and how to build your own Architecture of Fear, I invite you to join me in my webinar presented by Script University and Writer’s Digest University, How to Write a Hit Horror Movie!

Good luck and Happy Writing!

Dan