March 2009

Stuck in a Creative Rut? Get on Stage
by Virginia G. McMorrow
www.virginiamcmorrow.com

Born in New York City, Virginia G. McMorrow has worked as an editor/writer for 20 years. Over the years, Ginny has worked for business publishers as an editor of books, journals, and newsletters, and now works as a manager of client publications for a New York City consulting company. She has had five fantasy novels published by Archebooks Publishing, as well as numerous articles and short stories. Her short one-act play, Truth Scents, was produced in New York City's off-off-Broadway Beckmann Theatre in February 2008. Her second one-act play, Next Caller, Please, was produced off-off Broadway in NY's Parker Theatre in December 2008. Ginny lives with her husband on Long Island.

Writing is often a solitary profession with you, the writer, encased in a creative bubble — defining characters, weaving complex plots, nurturing the masterpiece in a fragile first draft, refining it, dealing with the inner critic, and eventually finding the courage to send it out into the world. But it doesn't have to be that way, particularly when your writing (and rewriting) has become stale or stagnant. It's important to pop that creative bubble and live a little, experiencing as much as you can in what's happening around you so that you can incorporate your new-found knowledge in your work.

Writers should always be on the lookout for activities to enhance their creativity, and the more outlandish the better. Learning how to act on stage, in film, or in improvisations can improve your work in ways you might never consider if you think only about focusing on the narrow field of writing techniques. By enrolling in an acting course — whether a full-fledged professional program or even a local adult education class (which is what I've been doing for the past two years) — you can refresh your approach to that book, story, play, or article you're working on and make it come alive.

Here's how an acting class can enhance your writing:

1. Acting is doing. When you act, whether on stage or in a film or television series, you have to have a purpose — a mission to fulfill, an objective to achieve — in each scene every time you appear in the spotlight. You're not on stage simply to kill time. You're developing the character you've been assigned to play, illustrating his or her motivation, and moving the action along. Every movement, every gesture adds to your role and helps you progress toward your purpose.

So, too, with your characters in fiction. Scenes and dialogue should not just be fluffy fillers to extend the length of your work simply because a certain publisher requires "x" number of words. Each scene and conversation between characters has to move the plot forward, introduce conflict, and eventually resolve the emerging issues. It works in nonfiction, too; you have to make a point, sometimes play devil's advocate, and then support it.

2. Understand stereotypes. As an actor, you learn about different stereotypes and predictable characters — the way they carry themselves, walk, talk, dress, and think. However, a good actor goes beyond the narrow stereotypical description and uses certain aspects of that persona to make the characterization colorful and rich.

The same idea works in your writing. For example, many of my fictional characters are of Italian-American descent (as I am), but I don't present them as stereotypes (e.g., cooking spaghetti, crushing grapes), unless there's a humorous point I want to portray. I use my background and the personal knowledge of Italian family dynamics to infuse the characters and setting with ambiance and flavor.

3. Be in the moment. Acting teaches you to focus, concentrate, and listen — all traits we should cultivate in our daily lives. This skill is particularly crucial if you're doing live theater, where you have to be able to ad lib if you or your fellow actors forget the script or become distracted by something happening off-stage or in the audience. By listening to and watching the other players, you feed off what they're doing and saying; in this way, you make the scene authentic (see sidebar, "It All Depends on the Other Character"). Actors must act as though they don't know what happens next, thereby providing a credible performance.

In addition, to ensure that their actions are believable within the environment of the play or show, actors learn how to be emotional, but not by moaning and groaning. Unless it's a farce, one shouldn't overact. True emotion comes from an honest reaction to what another actor is saying and doing, and to react with integrity and clear purpose, an actor must be "present."

All of these aspects should appear in your writing. Focus and concentration — and listening to your characters' voices, especially when they're saying something unexpected — helps bring out the rich details that make a scene come alive for your reader. And when the characters speak and act, genuine emotion follows.

4. Learn to improvise. From my personal experience, the art of improvisation is the type of acting that is the most fun and creative. Improvisational scenes teach you to think on your feet, consider what-if scenarios, learn to add conflict and embellish the "plot," add details that become your reality, and initiate dialogue. One doesn't simply state, for example, that there's a spaceship in one's backyard and have the next person deny it. The second actor must accept the truth of the spaceship and say, perhaps, "why don't we knock on their door and welcome them to earth?"

All of the above points are crucial in writing. When your characters say something you hadn't planned on, which forces you to reweave the plot and possibly rewrite the whole novel, go with the inspiration. Ask yourself, "what if so and so happened to character A?" And as with improvisation, whatever truth the characters are presenting, that truth must be credible or the reader won't buy into your story.

5. Recreate a mood. In acting, you learn to recall a mood or memory through the use of an object or event that has significance in your life. Reliving that experience helps you recreate whatever emotion and memory it evokes when you're faced with a similar need on stage. Again, you're not faking emotion, you're allowing yourself to honestly react to something that touched you in some way.

Writing — particularly memoirs — goes deeper when you incorporate personal items. I've used old photos of my dad to recreate memories and then placed them — both the description of the photo and the memory — in a novel. I didn't think he'd mind.

6. Learn poise. While it may not help in the "art" of writing, standing in the spotlight gives you confidence, something you'll need when you're promoting your now-resuscitated and improved book. You'll feel comfortable sitting on panels, presenting workshops, and dealing with your readers on a one-on-one basis or in groups (particularly when they ask you questions). The book, Improv Wisdom: Don't Prepare, Just Show Up, by Patricia Ryan Madson, is a gem that offers exercises for improvisation and real life. With this type of practical experience, learning to be poised and comfortable becomes second nature — even for the faint of heart.

7. Understand stage limitations. For those who want to write plays, experiencing theater from the perspective of an actor helps you understand the fundamental points of spatial limitations in live theater. Learning what actors do and how they do it — within the narrow confines of a stage — is essential to crafting a workable play. As a friend of mine cautioned, don't have the characters change costumes and settings every five minutes. There would be chaos backstage.

Screenwriting allows a broader perspective because the entire production can be filmed in numerous locations. But still, most important, understanding how characters interact in time and space can help you develop richer settings and more complex, credible plots.

It All Depends on the Other Character
When acting, unless you're speaking a monologue or an aside to the audience, you're usually interacting with other players. The very nature of improvisation involves the element of surprise, as you never really know what will come out of your mouth until you voice it. You don't have much time to think about your lines because you have to listen to what the characters are saying and watch what they're doing.

In one of my classes, the situation involved two characters, one of whom was just released from jail. I suggested to my acting partner that we play mother/daughter, and I would be the daughter, having served a term for shoplifting. My intention was to enact a light, humorous improvisation, an intention that changed dramatically as soon as the other actor began the scene. With her opening line — "Why did you come home?" — the improvisation became dramatic, and we created an emotional family scene that took me, and the class, by surprise.

It was my reaction to her opening line that made all the difference.

Writers have unending resources to kick-start their work when it becomes stale. Learning how to act — by its very interactive and introspective nature — is one of the best ways to get out there and be a better writer. And in the process, you'll find out some things about yourself you never expected, things that may come out in your more honest, refreshed writing.