TV Shows That Shaped My Writing Style

I’ve always believed that some of the best inspiration comes from simply experiencing a great story.

As a writer, I’m constantly paying attention to the things that make me feel something—characters I can’t stop thinking about, dialogue that feels real, twists I never saw coming, and stories that somehow manage to make me root for people I probably shouldn’t. Sometimes, watching another writer pull something off can completely change the way I think about my own work.

Over the years, there have been plenty of shows I’ve loved, but these five have had the biggest influence on the way I approach storytelling. Some taught me about character development. Others taught me about structure, pacing, and raising the stakes. And some completely changed what I thought screenwriting was supposed to look like.

So, starting with number five, here are the shows that helped shape me as a writer.

5. Dexter

It’s hard enough to create a character people care about. Creating a serial killer that audiences actually root for is an entirely different challenge.

That’s one of the things I’ve always loved about Dexter. On paper, Dexter Morgan should be a difficult character to connect with. But giving him a code—primarily targeting other killers and people who would continue hurting others—immediately adds another layer to him. Combine that with the trauma of witnessing his mother’s murder and the irony of him working in law enforcement as a blood-spatter analyst, and you get a character who is constantly operating in contradiction.

What fascinated me most was that the show never needed Dexter to suddenly become a traditional “good guy” in order for us to care about him. Instead, it gave us enough humanity to understand him. I think you can see that blueprint in shows that came later, like You, where someone like Joe can be deeply disturbed and still possess enough charm and complexity to keep an audience invested.

Dexter also taught me a lot about character progression. Early on, there are parts of normal human interaction that Dexter simply doesn't understand. Over time, his relationships and experiences begin changing him. Watching that progression reinforced something I try to remember in my own writing: a troubled character doesn't have to be reduced to their worst qualities. Give us enough layers, and we might find ourselves caring about someone we never expected to.

4. Snowfall

I’m a huge fan of crime dramas, and in my opinion, Snowfall is one of the best to ever do it.

What initially grabbed me was watching Franklin Saint go from a young man trying to find a way out of struggling financially to someone building something much bigger—and much more dangerous—than I think even he could have imagined in the beginning. Against the backdrop of the crack epidemic, the show takes that starting point and gradually builds an entire world around it.

One of the things I appreciate most about Snowfall is its patience. The writers weren’t afraid to let storylines develop. Characters, relationships, and conflicts were given time to grow, which made the major moments hit that much harder when they finally happened. And as the story grew, so did the stakes.

That's something that has definitely influenced my own storytelling. I love intensity, but Snowfall reminded me that intensity doesn't always have to start at a ten. You can establish the stakes and then continue raising them, allowing your characters to change in response. By the time everything reaches a boiling point, the audience understands exactly how they got there.

The violence and tragedy could be heavy at times, but I love a show that isn’t afraid to cross that line. That's a major reason it kept me invested from beginning to end.

3. Insecure

Insecure changed my writing in a completely different way.

Before watching it, I had this idea in my head that screenwriting had to follow a particular set of rules. Things needed to happen a certain way. Stories needed to be structured a certain way. There was almost this invisible box I thought I had to write inside.

Then I watched Insecure.

It felt free.

More than almost any show I had watched before it, Insecure felt like real people living real lives. The characters, conversations, relationships, awkward moments and mistakes felt like they came from somewhere personal. I had never related to a show as much as I related to that one, and it completely shifted my perception of what screenwriting could be.

I still love suspense. I love high stakes, crime, twists and intensity. Clearly, looking at the rest of this list, that's not going anywhere. But underneath all of that, what draws me to storytelling most is relatability. I want something to feel grounded. I want the people to feel authentic.

Insecure gave me more confidence to embrace that in my own writing. If I'm pulling something from a real experience, I don't feel the same need to clean it up just because it might be messy or unconventional. Sometimes the awkwardness, the rambling conversation, the strange little detail that seems like it shouldn't belong—that's exactly what makes something feel real.

For me, Insecure wasn't just a show I loved. It gave me permission to write freely.

2. Breaking Bad

What can I possibly say about Breaking Bad that hasn't already been said?

As someone who loves crime dramas, I consider it a masterclass. But the biggest lesson I took from it wasn't necessarily about crime. It was about character transformation.

When we first meet Walter White, he isn't Heisenberg. He's intelligent, obviously, but there is also something almost powerless about him. He doesn't seem to command much respect in his personal life, and you can sense resentment underneath the surface long before he becomes the man we eventually know him as.

That's what makes everything that follows so effective.

The show gives us enough time with Walter at the beginning that when he starts changing, we have something to compare him to. As his confidence, ego, ruthlessness and power grow, you can look backward and understand where pieces of that person came from. Even when his behavior becomes increasingly extreme, the progression itself doesn't feel random.

That taught me something incredibly valuable about writing characters: if you're planning to show me who someone becomes, make sure I understand who they were first.

A transformation only carries as much weight as the distance between those two points.

And with the constantly rising stakes, complicated family relationships, law enforcement sitting dangerously close to Walter's secret life, and moments of genuine unpredictability, Breaking Bad showed just how powerful that kind of long-form character development can be.

1. How to Get Away with Murder

All hail the queen: Annalise Keating

I genuinely don't know where to start with HTGAWM because there are so many things about this show that inspired me. I was hooked from the very beginning and stayed invested all the way through the final episode. I’ve probably rewatched the series ten to fifteen times. Somehow, even knowing exactly what’s coming, it still hits almost as hard as it did the first time.

That says a lot.

Every character brought something to the story, but Viola Davis as Annalise Keating was a powerhouse. Annalise could be brilliant, intimidating, vulnerable, messy, commanding and completely broken—sometimes within the same episode. 

One moment that has always stuck with me is the scene where she removes her wig and wipes off her makeup. Annalise was someone who could walk into a room and completely take control of it, so seeing her slowly strip away the things that helped create that polished, powerful image felt incredibly intimate. For a moment, all of that strength and authority fell away, and what was left was the exhausted, wounded woman underneath it. It was such a simple scene, but it made her feel more human than ever.

That's the kind of character complexity I love.

But HTGAWM also completely hooked me with its structure. Every season introduced a mystery, and the flash-forwards constantly gave us pieces of an outcome without explaining how we’d gotten there. It created that perfect question:

What the hell happened?

And then the show made you wait for the answer.

Flash-forwards and nonlinear storytelling can become repetitive when they’re used purely as a gimmick. With HTGAWM, they became part of the show’s identity. Just when I thought I understood what was happening, another reveal could completely change my perspective.

One of the biggest things the show taught me as a writer is that suspense doesn’t only live in the biggest twists or most dramatic moments. It’s in the buildup. It’s in knowing what to reveal, what to hold back, and how to keep an audience invested even when the story hasn’t reached its peak yet. HTGAWM knew how to make the space between the answers just as compelling as the answers themselves.

There are plenty of shows I’ve loved.

But when I think about the kind of impact I want my own stories to have—and the standard I want to hold myself to as a writer—How to Get Away with Murder is the bar.

Honorable Mention:

Animal Kingdom

I couldn't finish this list without giving Animal Kingdom its flowers.

What I loved most about the show was the family dynamic. The Codys could betray each other, manipulate each other, fight with each other, and still somehow come together when it was time for the next job. There was always this fascinating tension between family, loyalty, and self-interest.

And then there was Smurf.

She was easily the character who stood out most to me because you could never completely reduce her to one thing. She was layered, complicated and unpredictable, much like the family she controlled.

That's probably Animal Kingdom's biggest influence on my own writing. I'm fascinated by complicated relationships—people who can hurt each other, resent each other, betray each other and somehow still function as a unit when they're needed. There's so much storytelling potential inside those contradictions.

Animal Kingdom understood that extremely well.

What these shows taught me about the stories I want to tell

Looking at this list, there’s a pretty clear pattern.

I love complicated characters. I love relationships that aren't easily defined. I love rising stakes, unpredictability, and stories that aren't afraid to put their characters through hell.

But no matter how extreme the story gets, I still want to understand the person underneath it all.

That's ultimately what I try to bring into my own writing.

These shows didn't teach me to write like them. If anything, they helped me figure out what I value in storytelling—and what kind of writer I want to be.