Can a Screenwriting Class Help Your Novel?

I just finished taking my first-ever online course – a 10-week screenwriting class. Since I’m a shameless genre hopper, I’ve got my eye on writing a screenplay one of these days. But I’m currently working on a novel. Then why not take a novel writing course? Maybe someday. For this summer, I needed a jumpstart with my mystery novel draft. It’s complete, but the storyline was shaggy. Maybe even a bit convoluted. Or a lot convoluted.

Books on screenplay writing, I’d been told, have great plot advice you can apply to novels. I decided to go one better and take a whole class. I’m glad I did – maybe it would work for you, too? A few things to consider up front:

Make sure your teacher supports your goals. I did my course through Gotham Writers. I explained that I was actually working on a novel, and the teacher was totally cool with it. I didn’t think to check in advance if adapting a novel for the class submissions would be acceptable – some teachers might discourage this. See if you can find out before you invest in a class.

Take the genre seriously. My teacher offered great advice from the outset: don’t try to squish the novel into a screenplay. Start the story fresh. One of our first assignments was a story-map. When I gave myself permission to re-imagine the story, lots of lightbulbs went on.

What specific benefits did I get from thinking in screenplay mode?

Plot tightening – Here’s the basic structure of a three-act screenplay story-map: Act I: Inciting incident, Plot Point #1; Act II: First half of act, Midpoint, Plot Point #2; Act III: Climax, Resolution. Digging deeper into the genre yields more steps, but the teacher kept it simple for beginners. I was surprised and pleased to discover that my novel already had a three-act structure. Just happened organically – probably internalized from all the hours spent on my butt reading.

When I stripped out one of the subplots to fit the word count for the story-map, I realized that ditching it changed literally nothing about the core story or character arcs. So what did it add? Unnecessary complications. Suddenly wisdom I’d heard at a mystery writers conference echoed back to me. Someone (maybe the fabulous Louise Penny?) sited two common rookie mistakes with first-time mystery writers: number one, too many plot twists. I’d fallen into the trap; I was common. When I moved from class assignments back to my novel manuscript, it stung to pull out a plot thread that seemed quite clever when I’d cooked it up. But when the fabric didn’t unravel around it, I knew I’d made the right call.

Character focus – Our teacher asked us to summarize our protagonists’ key character traits and motivations. I’d naturally thought about this already and had done character outlines and even a Q&A or two, as many books on novel writing advise. Still, when I needed to summarize these points for a genre that demands very tight summaries, things came into sharper focus. Novels naturally have more space to develop character, which is doubly important when we don’t get to see a great actor flesh out – literally – all the nuances. But needing to summarize motivations clearly and efficiently for the class helped me cut through the morass of detail those novel-oriented character sketches led me to include. Not all the backstory in our planning needs to make it to the page in a draft. That planning is necessary – but mainly to help us see what’s actually best to use.

I also found myself guilty of Rookie Mistake Number Two for first-time mystery writers: too many characters. Thinking about the function of each character, I realized I could assign some of their “work” to others. It’s fun to create characters, but sometimes one must indeed kill one’s darlings for the greater good. Too many people hanging around in every scene means each one gets less of our attention.

Dialogue – Writing sharper dialogue is probably the one thing you’d assume would come from a screenwriting class. This one didn’t disappoint. The teacher gave us plenty of screenplay examples to study, along with critiques and explanations. When I reworked three of my novel chapters as screenplay scenes, I realized how overwritten much of the dialogue was. Sharp is good, even in a novel. I’ll add the caveat of not getting too carried away with cutting – or all your characters will end up sounding the same.

But in screenwriting class as in life, where there are ups there are downs:

You must give to receive. Selfishly, I hadn’t counted on how much writing I’d have to do for the other students. Our class had 15 people, and we each submitted two drafts. So, 14 fellow students + two comment rounds = 28 comments to prepare. Learning to provide constructive feedback is fundamental – writers need to support each other, plus we can apply insights about other’s work to our own. But since I’m a writing teacher, I’ve had oodles of experience already. I get paid for providing feedback. Suddenly, I had to give it away for free!

Attrition did help – two people submitted only one assignment, and three vanished altogether. Their loss was my gain, in time saved. I choose to believe they bailed to pursue some other fun creative project, not that they’re sitting in a chilly garret, sad and discouraged. My point – if you really want to be a good citizen in the (virtual) classroom, be prepared to read and comment on plenty of other people’s drafts.

You gave, you received – but not all feedback is equal. It takes time to build rapport with fellow writers in a face-to-face group. Connecting is harder still in an online setting, especially with true beginners. Several students in the class struggled with how to choose useful suggestions, either from timidity (“I’m no expert, so how can I criticize anybody?”) or, to be blunt, lack of insight. Both of these things would improve over time, but 10 weeks flies. By the time they’re gaining confidence and experience, you’re done.

Then there are the advanced students. Some are helpful indeed (three great ones in my class!); some are a giant pain in the ass. Maybe you saw my earlier post about not reading Amazon/Goodreads reviews of my travel narrative. Admittedly, I can be touchy with strangers eying my work. But if you’ve ever taken any kind of writing class or workshop, you’ve met that person who thinks they can write your book better than you can. Often they’re quite articulate, and their own writing may be strong. Still, they don’t take your work on its own terms. Engaging a writer’s goals – rather than trying to reshape them – is the foundation of any good writers group.

I’m about to blow off a bit of steam about one guy in my class, so buckle up (or skip this paragraph). In my novel the protagonist is attacked and beaten. It makes sense in the context. Really it does. And not uncommon in mystery novels, at all. But Mr. Dude didn’t like it. He offered elaborate alternative scene ideas. Plus, three paragraphs of additional commentary, despite the teacher telling us to give only two suggestions in each of our critiques. Well, it’s a free country. But when I resubmitted the story map, he fussed again. “I still don’t like that scene. It’s odd and unnecessary.” WTF? Odd and unnecessary? Who says that? (told you I was going to blow off steam). When my novel’s finally polished and in print – I’m stubborn, so it will be – I’ll track him down and send a copy with that entire scene highlighted. Or better yet, when the story gets turned into a Major Motion Picture, I’ll send a DVD cut with only that scene.

So anyway . . . despite the twin challenges of going from live to virtual and teacher to student, the class was a valuable experience. I’ll toss in two bonus tips. They’re common sense but bear repeating:

Choose your online school with care. Great options abound. Gotham Writers has a fabulous course platform – easy to navigate, easy to post, easy to interact with other students and the teacher. Whatever source you use, read their website carefully, and if they offer a peek at sample classes, take it. Check out testimonials, online reviews, and of course, good old word-of-mouth.

Read up on the teachers. You want a teacher who isn’t just dialing it in because they’ll never have to see you in person hanging around after class or lurking outside their office. Maybe they’re overworked, maybe they only care about the paycheck – either way, slacker-teachers exist. My class was with Lisa Namdar Kaufman. I didn’t know her when I signed up, but I was happy with the amount of feedback and encouragement she gave. You want somebody who’s interested in your overall writing goals, as well as specific assignments for the class. Google the school/program/teacher, and see what’s out there.

For me, the screenwriting class was worth it. Along with learning more about a genre I love, I’ve now got a stronger novel draft. It could be a good move for you, too – especially if you’ve been feeling stalled, stuck, blocked, frustrated, worthless, etc. Haul that work out of the drawer and look at it with fresh, cinematic eyes.

Check back for upcoming posts on professional editing and working with a cover artist – plus guest posts by Lisa Adams, Faye Snowden, and more!