When I first set out to write a novel, I had one thing working for me:
I’m a screenwriter.
I also had one thing working against me:
I’m a screenwriter.
I knew going into the writing process that I was wading into a world that would be both familiar and unchartered. Sure, I spent enough years crafting stories that I had my approach and technique down in terms of planning and prep. Not a formula, per se, but I knew what I needed to assemble the elements of plot, character and theme so I could come out the other end with a (hopefully) well-told story.
But I also knew I hadn’t written prose in over twenty years. One could argue that screenwriting is prose, but it’s really not the same. Even the “descriptions” in screenwriting aren’t terribly illustrative. One-sentence character descriptions. Two-word action lines. Screenwriting is an exercise in economy.
I hadn’t written anything expressive or descriptive in a very, very long time. That muscle was long dormant.
But I wasn’t going to let that stop me. So I got to work.
The first thing I did was put on my screenwriter hat and start working on my characters, plot and theme. Essentially, prepping the ingredients for my stew.
I knew who my main character was, and the supporting cast. The confidant. The sage. The love interest. The villain. I knew what everyone wanted. I knew their goals, their flaws, their needs. Every character’s story had a beginning, middle and end.
I knew the structure of the plot, and all the main points. The narrative was broken down so that one chapter led to the next. I created obstacles, turning points, plants, twists. At the end I had a three-act structure.
I also knew the themes I wanted to examine, and how each character’s personal journey tied into those themes. It needed to coalesce, so that even when the reader thought I was going on a tangent I was actually bringing things together.
I did all this until I had a complete, and thorough outline.
And then I set aside my screenwriting hat, and put on my writing hat.
How the hell was I going to actually tell this story?
I knew that I was going to have to play to my strengths with this. And for me, that meant leaning on my voice and the voice of my character. I knew it would be a challenge to write third-person—to be disconnected from my characters and story. So I embraced the first-person narrative and ran with it.
Those who know me can find it a bit difficult to separate me from my writing voice. And, honestly, that’s fine. Because, at the end of the day, that means my novel has a voice.
And that criticism is one of the best compliments I ever received on my writing.
All I had to do was channel my inner twenty-something-year-old woman.