Screenwriting : The Birth of a New Quantum Film Linguistics by Chris Stefans

Hello everyone!

Last night, an unscheduled newsletter from InkTip landed in my inbox — and it stopped me cold.

“We’re looking for completed vertical micro-dramas that fit the brief below.

Episodes should be 60 or 90 minutes long, segmented into 1–2 minute chunks.

Each ending must deliver a cliffhanger or an emotional punch that fuels the next click.”

At first, I laughed. Ninety-second episodes? Pure madness.

But then I thought, why not?

If audiences want to watch stories in seconds rather than hours, who am I to tell them otherwise?

From Feature Films to Quantum Chunks

I reread the linked article — “Writing for Verticals: How to Break Into the New Format Producers Want” by Thomas Blakeley — and something clicked.

After 27 years in consulting, my brain automatically starts mapping systems.

I realized I was getting lost not in the idea, but in the terminology.

“Season.” “Episode.” And then this new, unnamed particle — 60 to 90 seconds long.

So I gave it a name.

I call it a chunk.

Once we had feature films.

Then came television episodes.

Then web series.

Now, we’re diving into the quantum realm of storytelling — where the smallest indivisible unit is the chunk.

The Math of Madness

One chunk ≈ half a page of text.

My rock novel Demiurg: I-Deal Way has 324 pages.

That means roughly 650 chunks — 650 beats of story, rhythm, and music.

Am I scared?

Absolutely.

But what are the two main qualities pioneers need?

That’s right — stupidity and courage.

The New Grammar of Vertical Storytelling

Blakeley’s structure describes this emerging grammar perfectly:

1️⃣ Start Hot — drop us right into conflict.

2️⃣ One Beat per Episode — every minute must twist, reveal, or break.

3️⃣ Keep It Close — faces, hands, intimacy; the vertical frame loves proximity.

4️⃣ End on a Button — revelation, reversal, deadline, intrusion.

5️⃣ Build a Simple Engine — a clear want, fresh obstacles, ticking clock, open question.

But that’s only the syntax.

Now we need linguistics.

If a scene is a word,

and an episode is a phrase,

then a chunk is a syllable.

And syllables, as we know, can be open or closed — just like story beats that invite or resolve tension.

Controlled Madness

For me, this “quantum” format isn’t a limitation.

It’s liberation.

It allows a full novel — sound, image, and meaning — to unfold in its entirety, without compression or compromise.

Cinema had its celluloid atoms.

Television had its episodic DNA.

Vertical storytelling has its chunks.

If cinema has atoms, this is their discovery.

Welcome to the age of quantum storytelling.