In college, I had a teacher who talked about “Sherlock Holmes-ing” a text. Holmes could walk into a crime scene after other detectives had already searched it, clock the tiniest, most innocuous clue, and use it to solve not only the crime in front of him but also know where the next crime would take place.

That’s our job as actors. We’re detectives. We spot the invisible clues in the script and build a larger theory upon which we may act (ba-dum-ching). Once that theory exists, every word and punctuation mark either supports the theory... or challenges it.

Over the years, I’ve started calling this process Conspiracy Theories. Any good Conspiracy Theory is a triangle of 3 or more seemingly unrelated clues that create a much larger theory.

AND... no one can disprove a conspiracy theory...

So how do we find these seemingly invisible clues? Holmes didn’t solve cases on vibes; if he had a hunch, he backed it with evidence. Same for us: a word, a phrase, a punctuation mark (or the conspicuous absence of one) becomes proof.

How to Build Your Conspiracy Theories

• Read it like a book (first pass).
If we’re chasing the unknown, it hurts the work to start “reading like an actor.” On your first read, be the audience. Let yourself be surprised. This is your one chance to experience the story without knowing where it’s headed.

• Spot the oddities.
Any word or phrase that feels out of place (or that you instantly judge) is probably a clue, we just don’t understand it yet. Remember, the best clues hide in plain sight.

• You are someone’s child.
Everything we say and believe comes from something we learned or survived. If a moment feels basic, throwaway, or confusing, imbue it with a personal theory that ties it back to this moment. Make the line inherit a life.

• Track repetition.
We don’t repeat actions, phrases, or themes by accident. Repetition means we’re validating, challenging, or doubling down on something underneath.

• Play “What if…?”
No wrong answers. Push your idea further than feels safe. It’s a judgment-free way to expand possibilities and keep collaboration open with your reader/partner.

• Take it out of context.
Temporarily ignore how a phrase “fits the scene.” Look at it alone. What new information does it reveal when it isn’t doing scene glue?

• Prove it in the text.
Build any theory you want, but root it in evidence. A word. A punctuation mark. It might be something that was said OR it might be something that *wasn’t* said. If you can’t support it on the page, keep digging until you can.

When you find a conspiracy theory that fits, everything will lock into place in a more grounded, more consequential, and usually much higher stakes scenario than what many others will find on the page.

NOW>>>> WHY DO THIS?

“Jordan, I’ve experienced something like this scene before. Why can’t I just use my previous experience?”

I’m glad you asked! 2 reasons.

1) Emotions and sense memory are fickle. Even Stanislavski adjusted his thinking from emotional recall being in the mind to living in the body... thus physical actions. So if we “recall” something, there’s a 50/50 chance it will be there when we need it. Not the best odds.

2) Familiarity. If you’ve experienced this, you know how it ends up. But your character doesn’t. They’re in the thicks of it right now.

“When you pursue the unknowable, you’re gifted with the unknown.” - Jordan Woods-Robinson

By living in a world imbued with larger consequences and unknown outcomes, we have permission to seek a solution at 110% each time we run it.

Try it out. See what happens! Can you become a Conspiracy Theorist?

See you in the upside down...

-J