Six Lessons From My Writing Crush
By Keith Cronin | May 19, 2023 |
A few weeks ago, my dear friend (and brilliant writer) Jocosa Wade texted me, raving about a new show she was watching. She knew I’d be interested, because the show was created by one of my absolute favorite screenwriters, the marvelous Debora Cahn, about whom I have waxed rhapsodic here in an unabashed WU love letter two years ago. A powerhouse writer with credits on shows including The West Wing, Grey’s Anatomy, Homeland and more, Ms. Cahn has now launched a series of her own on Netflix. It’s called The Diplomat.
And damn, it’s good.
I binged the first season in a matter of days. Admittedly that was not hard to do, since it was only eight episodes, but the good news is that it’s been renewed for a second season. And you can bet I’ll be watching.
From having my heart won over by some of my favorite West Wing episodes, I already knew Debora Cahn had serious game. But with The Diplomat, she really comes into her own, delivering a show that hooks you with the first episode, and never lets go. As the season progresses, Cahn and her writing staff deliver an absolute masterclass for writers of any kind – not just screenwriters.
So today I want to offer some lessons I picked up from my first viewing of Season 1 of The Diplomat (because you better believe I will be re-watching it). To me, the show just freaking WORKS, so I want to take a look at WHY it works so damn well. Here’s what I came up with.
1. She picked a setting that matches the size of her story.
That might seem like an odd observation, so I’ll explain. There are a fair amount of “messages” in this show, and for that to work, the message needs to fit the medium. It’s probably easier to notice this when it doesn’t fit, so let’s look at a few examples.
Aaron Sorkin has long been one of my favorite screenwriters, but even I will admit that sometimes he swings and misses. This is a guy who is ALWAYS trying to tell a Big Story and deliver Important Messages, but he hasn’t always found the right platform. For example, one of his earliest shows was the quirky Sports Night – ostensibly just a show about a sports-themed talk show, such as one might see on ESPN.
Originally positioned as a sitcom, Sorkin’s show soon began exploring deeper themes, veering into more of a comedy/drama category, and getting progressively heavier (okay, sometimes a bit ponderous). Ultimately the show ended up getting canceled after never really managing to find its audience, only becoming popular – and only at a cult level – after going off the air.
Taking some of the themes (and actors) from Sports Night, Sorkin later found his sweet spot with The West Wing, a TV show where he could explore the biggest, heaviest themes imaginable. And it worked, because it was set in the White House, a place where the discussion and execution of Really Big Ideas was a much better fit.
After leaving that show, Sorkin once again scaled down – at least in terms of his setting. His next show was called Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, and focused on an SNL-like sketch comedy show. But the show still explored massive themes far more suitable for a milieu like The West Wing, and often fell into preachiness and/or melodrama (in addition to suffering from the worst show title ever).
I understand – and admire – how big a story Sorkin wanted to tell. And I suspect Debora Cahn has paid a lot of attention to Sorkin’s wins and losses, because I think she really found the “Goldilocks fit” for her show: a global stage, but with the key political problem being set outside the United States. I feel this crucial distinction makes her show far less polarizing than the blatantly left-slanted West Wing, but still a suitable setting for Really Big Issues.
While there is a pretty clear “wokeness” to Cahn’s interracial cast of characters, with multiple women in exceedingly powerful roles, she also shows us some of the pitfalls of liberal politics. With The Diplomat, Cahn gives us an elderly (and okay, somewhat Biden-like) president with some clear flaws, and a female VP who is in possible legal trouble – a far cry from the simplistic “Democrats good, Republicans bad” ethos that pervaded many West Wing episodes.
2. She gives us conflict, conflict, and MORE conflict.
And I’m not just talking about political conflict. Because The Diplomat is about FAR more than politics. Cahn explores interpersonal relationships with a level of insight that frankly exceeds Sorkin’s grasp – and I don’t say that lightly. And she does it while constantly ratcheting up the conflict. A perfect case in point is the titular character.
The diplomat in question is Kate Wyler, the new United States ambassador to the United Kingdom. Played by Keri Russell, Kate is a serious and experienced diplomatic operative on an assignment she not only does not want; she thinks it is beneath her. She had wanted to be using her skills to resolve challenges in Kabul, Afghanistan, and is frustrated and impatient with the amount of pomp and ceremony involved in dealing with the UK’s political machine. But an attack on a UK aircraft carrier requires her sudden redeployment to Great Britain.
Traveling with Kate is her husband, Hal – who is also a career diplomat, and one with a far more powerful (and yes, flashy) reputation than her own.
And that’s when things start to get interesting.
Her husband’s reputation eclipses her own, and he is clearly used to being the Alpha diplomat. But now he’s basically “the male first lady” to Kate, openly referring to himself as “the wife.”
Oh, and did I mention that they are getting divorced?
Oh, and that there’s a secret plot to draft Kate for a MUCH higher office? An office for which a divorce would be a deal-breaker?

Kate and Hal: It’s complicated.
And that’s just the two main characters. The show has a sizable cast of memorable characters, each with their own agenda. And all of their agendas conflict with somebody else’s agenda – and in more than one case that somebody else is their romantic interest or political superior – or both.
Seriously, the amount of conflict woven into this show is staggering – and inspiring as hell. I don’t think there is a single person in this show who doesn’t passionately want something that somebody else is violently opposed to, from lead character to dogged aide; from Prime Minister to CIA operative.
So, we’ve got Big Themes, on an appropriately sized stage. We’ve got conflict aplenty. Conflict out the proverbial wazoo, one might say (if indeed a wazoo can be proverbial – something tells me those are two words that don’t spend much time sharing a sentence. But I digress…). I mentioned earlier that Cahn’s skill in exploring relationships sometimes exceeds Sorkin’s. Here’s my theory as to why:
3. She’s a woman writing about what is all too often a man’s world.
Cahn does an amazing job of exploring aspects of male-female dynamics and perceptions that largely go unspoken, despite being all too real. To his credit, Sorkin would try to do this from time to time, but his maleness often overrode him, resulting in women being rescued or admired by men more often than being respected as equals or superiors (in terms of rank, clout, expertise, etc.).
Frankly I think it takes a woman to lay some of these issues bare. For example, a female CIA operative chooses to conceal her relationship with a rising young diplomatic aide, to avoid being perceived only as a person who got her exciting assignment because she was “the girlfriend.” Similarly, Kate is highly sensitive to the fact that she may have been summoned for this role with the hope and expectation that she would represent a “package deal,” with her tag-along diplomatic heavyweight of a husband providing some “bonus” guidance, which they might take even more seriously than the guidance that she – their officially designated diplomat – might offer them. The Powers That Be would then appear to be diverse and inclusive by hiring a female diplomat, all the while hoping to cash in on the diplomatic rockstar husband for the real heavy lifting.
And instead of this all being communicated via subtext, which many viewers (particularly male ones) might miss, Cahn has her characters TALK about these elephants in the room. Both couples I’ve just mentioned have some serious come-to-Jesus talks about this stuff, and we learn much about the characters by how they each respond and interact when discussing such awkward and hot-buttony (might be a word) issues.
And as I think about it, this is a great storytelling device, while still actually being believable. While Cahn’s characters may be exploring topics that often remain unspoken, don’t forget that these are diplomats – professional communicators accustomed to dealing with situations high on both conflict and sensitivity – so it makes sense that they would be equipped to articulate sentiments that many of us mere mortals would likely struggle with. Well played, Ms. Cahn. Well played.
4. She gives her characters impossible choices.
In addition to keeping the show brimming with conflict ranging from potential global war to marital breakdown, Cahn doles out conflict at the individual level, often forcing her characters to choose between their emotions, their ambitions, their personal loyalties and their national duty. A perfect case in point is Kate’s husband, Hal, who is torn between his natural Machiavellian instincts and gamesmanship, his ego, his desire to be a player – both politically and romantically – and his clear devotion to the woman who wants to divorce him.
Hal starts out being an easy man to hate, but then we start seeing his other sides, and begin finding ourselves actually sympathizing with how hard it must be to be in his position. At one point, the British Prime Minister corners Hal and flat-out asks for his advice, just after Hal has promised his wife he will not get involved. The agony with which he refrains from counseling the PM is palpable, and clearly takes a toll on Hal, who then goes to blow off steam in what is unquestionably the weirdest scene in the entire season – and the one scene that, for me, just didn’t really work. (Sorry, Debora. But fear not – you’re still my writing crush, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.)
5. She knows how to tell the big stories – and the small ones.
Ms. Cahn has proven time and time again that she knows how to write The Big Story – see her astonishing “Supremes” episode on The West Wing for incontrovertible proof. And she continues to display that gift in The Diplomat. But she also has a tremendous eye for the small details, the quiet moments where the sheer humanity of her storytelling shines like a diamond.
My favorite such moments – and my friend Jocosa’s as well – are the multiple scenes where we see Hal in the background assembling a breakfast from the seemingly endless buffet that diplomats apparently have at their disposal when hanging out in the hallowed halls of… some hallowed-looking diplomatty and palatial place in the UK that I should probably recognize but don’t. Ahem – back to the breakfast…
In each case, Hal ends up leaving the room shortly after his wife enters, and she begins eating what’s left of his food. Around the third time this happens – when we see Hal carefully splitting a blueberry muffin and leaving half on a plate that he walks away from, and then Kate sweeps in and grabs the muffin-half without a second thought – we realize that Hal is literally making his estranged wife’s breakfast each morning, and we sense that we’re witnessing a couple’s tradition that likely has gone on for years. It’s a touching moment of sweetness, showing how a couple terribly at odds can still maintain the habitual niceties of a longtime partnership.

Most of that breakfast isn’t for him…
6. She goes all-in on her endings.
Here Cahn takes a marked departure from her West Wing background, where episodes often leaned towards the quiet-but-satisfying wrap-up, or maybe a tear-jerking moment of sentimentality. Not Cahn. Every episode ends in a VERY dramatic way, whether it’s a cliffhanger, an OMG moment, a powerful line of dialog, or something even more… explosive.
Every. Single. Episode.
For those of us writing books rather than screenplays, I think the lesson still works. If your chapters end with the same kind of power with which Cahn ends each episode of The Diplomat, you will have assimilated a major lesson in “page-turner” storytelling. And given a platform like Netflix, Cahn has truly mastered the art of inspiring some “binge watching.”
Seriously, it’s that good.
To give you some additional perspective, I had a WU post on an entirely different topic nearly completed when I finished the last episode of The Diplomat, but I decided to shelve that piece and capitalize on how jazzed I am by Cahn’s latest creation. It’s just that good.
And yes, I’m aware of the unabashedly fanboyish tone I assume when I write about Debora Cahn. But as competitive as I may be – in music, in writing, and in life – I have always been able to take real pleasure in seeing truly great work, even if it’s work I will also admit to envying more than a little.
Season 1 of The Diplomat was simply one of the best new series I’ve seen in ages, and remarkably fresh for a show covering the already well-trodden path of the political thriller. So I hope you might give this – or any other show Debora Cahn has been involved in – a look. Whether the stories she tells will be your cup of tea or not, I think you’ll see that those stories are being told with some damn fine writing. And that’s something I’m always in the mood for.
How about you?
Have you been hooked by The Diplomat? Got any other shows where the screenwriting is rocking your world and/or influencing your own books or stories? Please chime in, and as always, thanks for reading!
Thank you Keith for clarifying the strengths of Cahn’s screenwriting so I can apply this to my writing. I just watched the second episode of The Diplomat last night, and found myself hooked, even though I’m not usually a fan of political drama. I tend to write quiet novels with a focus on character development, and early readers of my drafts usually ask for more conflict, sense of urgency, etc. so this article was very helpful to me.
Hi Heather. Like you, my novels have thus far been relatively quiet, but I still think there are lessons in The Diplomat for quiet novelists to apply, even if it’s just in making the interpersonal conflicts between our characters more complex and intense. The way Cahn layers problems onto Kate and Hal’s relationship is a real lesson in just how hard it can be for two people who love each other to be able to find a way to live with each other.
She’s also great at showing how different people can want to solve a shared problem each in their own different way – and often in a way that radically conflicts with how another person wants to solve it. I think that kind of conflict can take place in a quiet suburban home just as easily as at a conference table full of international political bigwigs. Thanks for weighing in!
I don’t watch a lot of TV, but I’m big on opera, and there the storytelling lesson seems to be that no premise is too trite (Get the girl!) or too weird (The girl is actually trapped inside a giant orange!), but whatever it is, it can work if you go big and go in with total earnestness.
Lessons for us all.
Oh, Linguist, you’d have loved where I did my undergrad work in music: Indiana University, which had opera performances year-round, and where reps from the Met itself would come down to our school just to poach some of the talent.
I, too, am insanely in love with this show, and binged it in two days. The breakfast detail is brilliant, and I love how little she cares about her appearance, how everything she’s about is her mind; I love the messy tangle of the marriage, the matter of fact way sex is handled. Everything. Brilliant writing and acting.
Barbara, you raise a great point about Kate’s priorities re work vs. appearance. The cover photo they’re using for the show (at the top of this post) is a great example – this is a woman who is about doing the JOB, not how she looks.
And yes, the treatment of sex is also great, actually *informing* us about the characters rather than simply being an excuse to show us attractive people in various states of undress, like so many shows resort to.
I share your fanboy-ness (is that a word?), Keith. I was hooked from Episode One and was thrilled to learn there’s be a Season Two. The writing is all you say and the finish got me in the “I did not see that coming” sort of way. Just. Wow. I found myself hitting the 10-second back up button often to re-listen to dialogue, to savor the nuances that build into so much delicious tension. So much to learn here. Thank you for this excellent breakdown!
Susan, fanboy-ness is *definitely* a word. So it is decreed – by me!
Great idea on hitting the 10-second backup button – I can think of many spots I’d want to hit and re-savor. But hell, I’m ready to watch the whole series over already!
Hey Keith — First, thanks for always asking us to bring our thinking caps to your posts. I occasionally find myself worried that story consumers seem more interested in tidiness than implication and nuance. When I really look around, I can see that’s it’s not necessarily true. Stories that lays on the layers of conflict, as it sounds like this one does, can indeed find an audience. Great news, as I sincerely doubt that this is the kind of storytelling at which A.I. will excel. At least not any time soon.
Hopefully, Netflix and others will be made to realize it, and settle the writers’ strike. Thanks for another great post, and for the recommendation.
Thanks, Vaughn. I think The Diplomat has implication and nuance (eg. the breakfast scenes), but it’s the insane-yet-believable amounts of *conflict* that really keep the viewer coming back for more.
But so much of that conflict is interpersonal. Yeah, there are a couple of explosions, and a possible murder, but this is NOT a Tom Clancy action thriller by any stretch. Most of the thrills are mental/emotional, which really resonates with me. Check it out – I’ll be eager to hear what you think of it!
The Diplomat sounds like an intriguing show–and I loved how your post highlighted the specific elements of screenwriting that make it that way. Very interesting!
It’s helped my writing to study TV/movies as a way to understand storytelling, character, and conflict because many shows tackle these aspects so well — plus it’s enjoyable research. I write suspense/thriller novels and was struggling with the concept of emotional resonance. About a year ago, I watched Episode 1 of The Mentalist, and a light bulb definitely clicked on: Oh, yeah. NOW I understand how to write emotion, despite the blood and gore of the crimes.
Thanks for an insightful and timely post.
Christine, I agree that studying TV and movies is useful for any kind of storytelling. In particular it has helped me with writing dialog, because good dialog just SOUNDS so darn good, and it really shines in mediums like those. And when delivered by a skilled actor, you get a sense of not only the sound, but the *rhythm* of the language, which I then try to reverse-engineer and capture when writing my own dialog. Thanks for chiming in!
Hey Keith, I just finished watching The Diplomat. I agree that it’s good storytelling. It’s also fast. You need to keep up.
Another show I recommend is Reservation Dogs. It’s about a group of Native teens and their community. It will make you laugh out loud most episodes, but also cry real tears, some with heartache, some in wonder. Everyone, from director and writers to actors, casting, etc. is Indigenous and it shows. Native Americans know how to tell a story. There’s much to learn as a writer, watching Reservation Dogs. Personally, I love how it’s not for white gaze only. It makes choices to not explain and yet still works. The characters are all unique and real, each with a rich backstory. Bonus on this show- young adults will watch it with older generations.
Ada – ooh, Reservation Dogs sounds fascinating. Thanks for the recommendation!
Thanks, Keith! I’ve been wondering what to watch as Succession approaches its end. (Talk about conflict!). The other one I’m bingeing is Somebody, Somewhere, which stuns me with its humanity. It’s the anti-Succession. Anyway, I appreciate your fine analysis of The Diplomat and its application to writing. I very much look forward to watching it and to seeing you in Salem!
Mary, I keep hearing about Succession, but have worried that I’d find it too dark and icky (highly technical literary critic-ish word). But I have not heard of Somebody, Somewhere – I will check that out. Thanks!
You’re the second person to recommend this show to me, Keith, so I will definitely check it out.
Commenting here to second Mary’s recommendation for Succession. It is dark, but it’s an excellent study on writing fascinating people who swing between begetting our sympathy or loathing. A satire for our time, too.
I really enjoyed THE DIPLOMAT (but gosh, I wanted to do something with Keri’s hair! It drove me nuts! haha). Such well-developed characters, and the conflicts are so seamlessly woven into the overarching narrative that yes, it is a master class in writing. I am SO GLAD they’re making Season 2 because the finale was explosive – literally!
Melissa, LOL about the hair comment!
Regarding the finale, it occurred to me today – naturally, after already publishing this piece – that the season both starts and ends with a bang. Those storytelling “bookends” are yet another masterful touch by Cahn and her staff.
Agreed. I just wanted to brush her hair in every single scene. It was distracting. Being painted as frumpy is one thing. The hair was too much.
I am SO glad there are other fanboys of this show out there. I have now watched the whole series twice and I never do that. I am a huge Sorkin fan but as you say, this one is frequently better. Thanks for the breakdowns and analysis. I need to truly study this show before going on with my own work.
Hi Andrew – sounds like we should consider putting in an order for some matching fanboy jackets or something!
And I hear you about studying this show. As fast-paced as it was, I’m sure there was plenty I missed the first time around, so I’m already gearing up to watch it again, while taking some notes. Happy studies to us both!
Keith, you are excellent at dissecting stories! And you almost make me want to watch Diplomat. I hardly watch any TV, I always have the subtitles on when I do watch a movie because I need for the volume to be low, and seeing words on the screen has been so instructive in my novel-writing, esp. dialogue. Also, because I’m visual, I tend to see my stories as little movies in my head. Even the little picture books.
Your point about the setting is so important. My historical is like a fractal, with the domestic drama mirroring what’s occurring at the societal and even country level. I didn’t realize this when I began writing it but only during revisions. Right now, I’m reading Wendell Berry and it’s about as far from international politics as you can get, but the sense of place truly impacts the characters and their choices. The conflicts are understated but you get the sense that an entire way of life is disappearing.
Thank you for your most instructive post.
Thank you, Vijaya – I always appreciate it when you weigh in! You might enjoy *reading* The Diplomat in subtitles, as the dialog is excellent.
And I utterly LOVE this description: “My historical is like a fractal, with the domestic drama mirroring what’s occurring at the societal and even country level. I didn’t realize this when I began writing it but only during revisions.”
Wow, what a powerful analogy your “fractal” observation is. And how delightful that you didn’t realize that’s what you were doing – that is truly the magical part of the storytelling experience, isn’t it?
Just as completely captivated by The Diplomat as you, and binge-watched it like a fevered addict! I immediately Googled to see if it was picked up for a second season. I loved all the characters, but especially Kate. Keri Russell nailed it just as surely as she did the Russian spy in The American. She has wonderful range. I also appreciated her hard-as-nails diplomatic persona which brooked no silly nonsense about making nice and dressing up as if she was merely an appendage to Hal. Yet could acquiesce to expectations, strategically, when she saw the need to play the game to her advantage. It was consummate perfection to me. Wow, if that wasn’t fangirling I don’t know what is!
I’ve never watched The West Wing or Grey’s Anatomy, but I can see the same dark, intense, nuanced hand in this as Homeland, which I also loved.
Yes, we’ve watched the Diplomat and I liked the fast pace and the relationships that come and go in this series. And it definitely has conflict.
I read this and finally got to watch my first episode a few hours ago. Holy hell! Thanks, Keith, for bringing this up. I can’t wait to watch the rest of them – and knowing she wrote “The Supremes” episode of West Wing tells me all I need to know about her writing chops. I’ve no idea how it will impact my writing or my world, but I know for sure it will. Thanks!
Ah, Keith, your analysis pleases the obsessive crevices of my picayune little editor’s soul. I do this kind of analysis incessantly, instinctively, and with an outsize sense of relish that I see reflected in your post. You are my people, sir. It’s also the best way I know to learn and internalize craft elements, and I recommend it to every writer I speak with.
Plus you’ve now moved this show that was already on my watch list to the top of it. Thanks for a really enjoyable post. I’ll be sharing it.
Did you know your post is recommended on KidLit 411 for children’s writers who write anything from picture books, chapter books, MG to YA? Great tips for all writers.