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How to Brain Dump Your Way Out of a Screenwriting Dead End

  • Writer: Lorraine Flett
    Lorraine Flett
  • May 15
  • 3 min read

You’re halfway through Act Two, and the story stalls. Your characters stop talking. Your structure sags. You feel like you’ve outsmarted yourself right into a corner. I do this all the time because I fail to take our own best advice and do a complete outline before typing FADE IN:. You too?


Welcome to a screenwriter's most common crisis zone.


If you’re stuck in the “mushy middle,” chances are your brain is trying to solve multiple problems at once: plot, character, pacing, structure, emotion, and your inner critic is commentating on all of it like an over-caffeinated sports announcer. You don’t need inspiration. You need escape velocity. That’s where the Brain Dump comes in.


What Is a Brain Dump?

At its core, a Brain Dump is exactly what it sounds like: dumping every single idea in your head onto the page without judgment, logic, or filtering. It’s not writing. It’s purging. You’re not trying to solve the problem. You’re trying to overwhelm it with possibilities until the solution floats to the top.


When you apply this technique specifically to screenwriting, it becomes a precision tool. Think of it like shaking a stuck vending machine. You don’t know what’s going to fall out, but you might get something good.


Why It Works (Yes, Neuroscience Has Something to Say)

When you’re blocked, your prefrontal cortex—the part of your brain responsible for planning and decision-making—can get overloaded. You’re over-analyzing the problem, looping it, and building pressure. Meanwhile, your default mode network, the brain system linked to creative insight and lateral thinking, gets shoved into the background.


A Brain Dump flips that script. By lowering the stakes and removing the mindset that there's a “right answer,” you let your creative circuitry take over. This taps into divergent thinking, your brain’s ability to spin off in weird directions that often lead to “aha” breakthroughs.


How to Do It (Especially in Act Two)

Set a timer. Ten to fifteen minutes is ideal. Use pen and paper if possible. Writing by hand slows you down just enough to stay present.


Name your story problem. Something like “I don’t know what happens after the midpoint.” Or “My protagonist is being reactive instead of pro-active." Maybe “The stakes aren’t escalating.”


Dump every possible idea to solve it. Logical, illogical, hilarious, horrifying, genre-breaking—it all goes in. “The sidekick dies.” “They switch bodies.” “Aliens land.” “It’s all a dream.” “The villain gets a redemption arc.” Anything goes.


Don’t edit. Your goal isn’t quality. It’s volume. Surprise yourself. Make yourself laugh. Be dumb on purpose.


Walk away. Give it an hour or a day. When you come back, mine the madness. One line might be gold. Another might trigger a new direction. Patterns may emerge. You might realize what you don’t want to do, which is just as helpful.


Real Example: The Act Two Slump

Let’s say you’re writing a mystery set in a small town, and you’ve hit the wall at page 55. The killer’s identity is set, but it feels like nothing’s happening. Your Brain Dump might look like this:

  • “The victim faked their own death.”

  • “Protagonist gets framed.”

  • “Sheriff is on the take.”

  • “A fire wipes out key evidence.”

  • “Reveal that the protagonist has a secret twin.”

  • “A tourist group shows up and disrupts everything.”

  • “Set it all on Día de los Muertos—rituals everywhere.”


Some are garbage. Some are genre-suicide. But one might shake loose a subplot, a twist, or a new ticking clock that sharpens everything else.


Bonus: Do It Somewhere Unusual

Since we’re talking San Miguel de Allende, this is a town built for creative disruption. Take your notebook to a cozy cafe, a bench in the Jardin, or a candle-lit rooftop bar. Change your scenery, change your thinking. Neuroscience agrees. Novel environments stimulate associative thinking.


Final Thought

The Brain Dump isn’t about brilliance. It’s about movement. It gives your screenwriting problem a playground instead of a courtroom.


Stuck in the middle of Act Two? Good. That means you’re writing. Now stop trying to fix it and start dumping every wild idea your brain can cough up. You’ll find your way out. The sky is the limit, which is no limit at all!

San Miguel Sunset - Photo Credit: Lorraine Flett
San Miguel Sunset - Photo Credit: Lorraine Flett


 
 
 

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