How to Write a Killer Audio Drama Script (Without Making Your Sound Designer Hate You)

Or: Why You Can’t Just Write a Movie Without Pictures

BUT FIRST…

New Convention announcement: I will be at Multiverse Con, Atlanta, in October where I will speak on panels (TBA), and wander the halls and vendor room. Stop by and say hi. And remember, I always want to see a picture of your dog or cat!

Now, on to our regularly scheduled column….

You want to write an audio drama? Fantastic.

I know a thing or two about this having gotten my start writing “The Harry Strange Radio Drama” (winner of 11 different awards) and currently writing “The Lady Sherlock Mysteries” for the Atlanta Radio Theatre Company. In between those projects, I’ve also adapted the first book in an alternate history sci-fi series as well as the “Jeremiah Willstone” stories (by Anthony Francis) to audio. I know my way around a microphone. As such, let me welcome you to the land of whispered secrets, bone-chilling soundscapes, and the eternal question: Did the mic pick that up?

But before you begin crafting your ten-part epic about time-traveling vampire detective kittens (which, honestly, sounds pretty cool), let’s talk about what actually makes an audio drama script work—and what makes listeners, actors, and sound designers weep into their coffee.

Because here’s the thing: an audio drama is not just a TV show without visuals. It’s its own beast. And if you don’t understand how to tame it, that beast will devour your story, leaving behind only confused dialogue and awkward silence. Another thing to note right at the top, while we share a visual encyclopedia of meaning (an orange usually means trouble or death is on the way; or the breaking of a pair of eyeglasses means intelligence is about to be overwhelmed by barbarism) we don’t have the same for audio.

1. Paint With Sound, Not With Walls

In a film script, you can write:

EXT. ABANDONED CHAPEL – NIGHT
A storm rages outside. Lightning flashes, revealing the silhouette of a figure in the doorway.

In an audio drama, none of that means anything unless the listener can hear it.

So instead, you write:

Fx: Thunder rolls. A heavy door creaks open, wind howling through cracks. Footsteps echo on the stone floor.)
CHARACTER: (whispering) I shouldn’t be here.

Boom. Now the listener knows they’re in a creepy, abandoned chapel at night. You don’t tell them. You make them hear it.

2. Exposition? I Don’t Know Her.

One of the biggest mistakes new writers make is having characters say things no human would ever say. Like:

JAMES: Ah, yes, my younger brother, although our parents disappeared under mysterious circumstances ten years ago and you’ve never forgiven me, I still believe we must work together!

Congratulations, James, you just made every listener groan in unison. Side note: if you ever start a line of dialogue with “as you know” the listener knows you are about to hit them with a firehose dose of exposition. Don’t do that.

If your character wouldn’t say it in real life, find another way to reveal the information. Use subtext. Let the story drip out naturally. Or, better yet, use sound—because nothing says “family trauma” like an uncomfortable silence after someone mentions Mom and Dad.

3. Keep Your Cast (and Your Listener’s Brain) Under Control

In a novel, you can introduce thirty characters, give them all elaborate backstories, and your reader will (mostly) keep up. In an audio drama, listeners can’t see who’s talking.

So if you introduce seven characters in the first two minutes, guess what? No one knows who anyone is.

Solution:

• Keep your main cast small and distinct (at least early on). THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES (we discuss whether TMA counts as an audio drama in another post) limited their cast to one character for many episodes.

• Give each character a unique speech pattern, accent, or verbal tic so they’re instantly recognizable. (But please, avoid the Tumblr hate and don’t do BAD accents-try to cast folks with the actual accent you’re looking for)

• And for the love of all things audio, don’t have two people with similar voices talk back-to-back in a dialogue-heavy scene. Your listeners will spend the whole time wondering who’s who instead of, you know, enjoying the story.

4. Silence Is a Tool, Not a Glitch

Good audio dramas know when to shut up.

Silence builds tension. Silence lets a moment breathe. Silence makes that next line—that chilling whisper, that sudden scream—hit ten times harder.

Too many scripts cram in constant dialogue like they’re afraid the audience will get bored if someone isn’t talking every second. But real life isn’t like that. And neither is good horror, suspense, or drama.

So don’t fear the pause. Let silence do some of the storytelling for you.

5. Format Like a Pro, Not a Chaos Goblin

Look, I know formatting isn’t fun. But if your script looks like it was written by a caffeinated raccoon on a deadline, your actors and production team will hunt you down.

Standard formatting means:

• Character names in ALL CAPS.

• Scene direction in parentheses. (Or not. Just be consistent)

• Sound cues CLEARLY marked so your designer doesn’t have to guess whether that “ominous creak” was meant to be a door, a chair, or someone’s existential dread.

A clean, well-formatted script makes everyone’s job easier. And an easy job means a happy production team, which means your story actually gets made instead of getting lost in that cursed folder of “projects that never happened.”

Scrivener, my word processor of choice, also has a BBC Audio Play template (and who is going to argue with the BBC). There are also templates in Final Draft, and Fade In. One production company I work with has their own template in MS Word.

6. Don’t Just Tell a Story—Create an Experience

Audio drama is theater of the mind. Done well, it’s more immersive than any blockbuster. It puts the listener inside the world, lets them feel the breath on their neck, hear the monster just behind them, live in the story in a way no other medium can.

So don’t waste that power. Use sound to make your world real.

• If someone’s running, let us hear their breath, their footsteps slamming into pavement.

• If they’re hiding, let us feel the unbearable silence, their heartbeat thudding in our ears.

• If a monster growls in the dark… make sure we hear it too close.

Audio is the most intimate storytelling medium. Respect it. Use it. And for the love of all things horrifying—never, ever, underestimate a well-placed whisper.

In Conclusion: Write for the Ear, Not the Eye

If you take one thing from this, let it be this: audio drama is not just a script without visuals. It’s a different beast entirely, and you have to write for the ear.

Make your dialogue natural; your sound design essential; and your world will live inside your listener’s mind.

And if you ever doubt whether a scene works, close your eyes and listen. If you can’t follow what’s happening without imagining a screen in front of you, rewrite it.

Because the best audio dramas don’t make listeners watch a story in their heads.

They make them feel like they’re inside it.

Tony Sarrecchia