A fledgling writer sits at an intricately carved, mahogany table positioned in the center of an antiquated library. The shot captures the dusty bookshelves towering towards the high, cobwebbed ceiling backlit by the mystery of half-light. An ornately designed glass window, a relic from past centuries, paints a vibrant color scheme on the wooden floor to contrast the sepia undertones of the room.
The director may choose to use a high angle shot to present the young writer’s struggle amidst the vastness of knowledge, centering him perfectly between the ledger-like rows of ancient books. As he holds the magnified viewer of a steampunk-inspired writing machine, the presence of old fashion checkbooks scattered around him punctuates the image.
On the table, a peculiar object captures our attention: a rowel-like contraption, an image symbolizing power and influence. Its metal spikes glint in the half-light, noticeably untouched by time’s decay, contrasting with the rusted nib of the writer’s quill. The distant tolling of a clock tower, or the muffled shuffle of secret society members in checkered cloaks, adds an eerie ambience from an off-screen space – a space hopefully explored later in the screenplay. The frame ends with a gentle tap on the rowel, resonating its echo throughout the chamber, signifying the incitiveness of the writer’s mission.