This is gonna sound corny…
… but in my experience, starting a new creative project feels a lot like the early stages of falling in love.
(Minus all the shaving.)
Of the many story ideas that have flirted with my imagination, I’ve only fallen in love with a handful. Those are the ones I’ve pursued long-term relationships with. That is to say, I actually sat down to write them.
Just like actual romantic relationships, the journey of falling in love with an idea starts with a glorious, disruptive bang. Common sense flies out the window. Wild scenarios steal my attention away from every responsibility. And suddenly sleep is an option, not a necessity.
I’ve had a few meaningful affairs with my ideas in the past. But when it came to Charlotte Collins: The Play, I didn’t just fall.
I plummeted.
^^actual footage of me in the inane throes of creative passion^^
“We are all fools in love.”
I was subletting a small bedroom in Washington Heights at the time. Having just graduated with an MFA in Acting, I was desperately poor and full of hopeful optimism.
In truth, there’s no better time to be smitten with a creative idea than when you have no money. If you’re a writer, that is. Typing into a Google Doc for hours on end is an incredibly affordable pastime. Every waking moment, when I wasn’t serving tables or doing background work, I was obsessively tapping away at my keyboard or rearranging index cards on my floor.
I was giddy. I was nervous. I was infatuated.
I also knew I had to be careful.
In my experience, being infatuated with a story I’m writing has caused ideas to spin out of control. Strings get left dangling. Unjustified choices are allowed to direct major plot points. Then, in the midst of the editing stage months later, I realize I’ve written a gigantic knot that would take more effort to untangle than it took to create.
I knew by the time I reached the editing phase of Charlotte Collins, the lovey-dovey feelings wouldn’t be burning with the same inspired passion as they had in the earliest days. And the harsh truth is, when the honeymoon phase ends, the process of untangling knots becomes more of a pain than a pleasure.
And that can put a terrible strain on the relationship.
^^setting boundaries to avoid this feeling in editing^^
Setting boundaries and addressing red flags.
To avoid creating unsolvable knots in the heat of creative passion, I decided to set some boundaries.
Charlotte Collins had to abide by certain rules. As I continued typing out scene snippets and scribbling on index cards, I simultaneously began building a framework that would help keep my play clear and consistent. I also hoped that by staying within these boundaries, I would write a play that felt as if it had been adapted directly from an original Jane Austen novel — while also being accessible to non-Austen fans.
Over the months of writing, a list of “Do This/Don’t Do This” rules began to emerge.
No spoilers, I promise. ;)
Do this…
Emulate Jane Austen’s style: Who doesn’t love a witty quip or a well-disguised personal insult? Austen fans love her treatment of language, and I wanted to give them more of what they crave. As I wrote, my aim was to make the lines sound as if they’d been adapted directly from an original (albeit undiscovered) Jane Austen novel.
Create wacky supporting characters: Jane always filled her books with rich and quirky supporting characters. As new characters emerged in my writing, I made sure to assign them fun mannerisms and desires. Not only would this honor Jane’s approach in storytelling, it would ensure that every actor on stage would have a jolly time playing each character.
Include stringent Regency mannerisms: I think part of why audiences love the Regency era is because the potential for committing a faux pas is so vast. With so many ridiculous rules for proper behavior, a character needs to do very little to cause great offense. To me, that creates a gold mine of opportunities for comedy.
^^look at his wee twitchy fingers!!^^
Don’t do this…
Don’t go overboard with the language: Although I was trying to emulate Jane’s writing style, I didn’t want to turn off audiences who aren’t already big fans of language-heavy period pieces. Plenty of people tend to get lost in wordy scripts — and I don’t blame them. I decided to mine every opportunity for physical activity to tell Charlotte’s story. In this way, the play would still provide the language Austen fans love, while still having lots of action.
Don’t focus on the romance: Jane Austen’s name might be synonymous with Regency romance, but there’s so much more to her writing than that. Her stories were filled with societal commentary, complex female relationships, class dynamics, and so much more. Even though I wanted the play to fall into the genre of romantic comedy, I also needed it to contain all the other elements that Jane wove into her narratives.
Don’t try to be Jane: Yes, I wanted to honor her work and follow her style. And yes, I wanted her fans to love my play. But I also wanted to write something that only I could write. It needed an angle that was contemporary and would resonate with modern audiences. If I was going to make any kind of societal commentary, I wanted it to be commentary that applies to today — not just Jane’s era.
me: pretending to be Jane Austen, but super happy to have 21st century plumbing
By following the boundaries I’d set, I hoped to lay a malleable foundation for editing. Because for me — and many other writers, I’m sure — editing is where the really tough work begins.
And by then, I knew my romance would be entering a different phase.
After the honeymoon ends…
I know why I go slightly gaga in the first months of writing a new project. I’m trying to ride the current of inspiration as far as it’ll take me. Writing doesn’t feel like work in those early days — it feels effortless compared to everything else. I try to stay in that zone as long as I can before the current dissipates and leaves me holding the paddle.
As the flow of inspiration dwindles, I always settle into a more relaxed process of writing. The roar of the muses softens to a conversational whisper. My project and I establish a routine that promotes its steady growth while allowing me to function as a sane human being.
That’s how it went with Charlotte Collins. The exciting puppy love lasted a few months before cooling down. The love didn’t disappear completely, of course. But, after the last butterfly vacated my digestive system, the time came to hunker down and keep the relationship moving forward with equal parts love and hard work.
Basically, the time came when I had to put a label on it.
So yeah… we’re going steady.
Just as no two relationships are alike, I’ve never experienced the same creative process twice. Sometimes I sketch out the rules before writing ever starts. Other times, I don’t bother. With Charlotte Collins: The Play, I was writing and setting boundaries at the same time.
And it seems to have worked.
The editing phase didn’t have any unsolvable knots. Any tangled bits I did come across usually had a pretty straightforward solution. Today, several years after I sat down to begin writing Charlotte Collins, our relationship is still going strong.
Speaking of the moment I sat down to start writing…
Written by: Grace Abele
Editor: Peter Giordano
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