Hey there! My name is A.J. Parker. I’m a poet and young adult fiction writer. You can find me on Instagram, Bluesky, X, and of course, here on Substack. Thanks for reading :)
In January of this year, I decided it was time to take a risk and try something I’ve always wanted to try: acting.
Look, I’m a writer first and foremost. Sure, as a kid I was in a production of Willy Wonka and Peter Pan as Extra Extra Number Something, but my theater career did not last long. (Well, it at least lasted longer than the two weeks I “played” the flute and quit after I couldn’t make a sound). But I have zero acting experience other than swaying in the background!
I started adult comedy improv classes because I wanted to gain back some of my confidence speaking in front of people after a year of medical treatments made me a hermit, and I also wanted to improve my memory after some intense brain fog. So far, I have accomplished both those goals!
I was surprised to receive the compliment that I have a good stage presence, but I also felt very validated because one day, I would love to be on stage (giving book talks!) I was also surprised to find there is a ton of writing inspiration to be found in improvisational acting.
Improv is all about imagination. In true improv, you genuinely don’t know what’s going to happen next, just like sometimes you don’t know what’s going to happen next in your story. (I talked about how I’m a stereotypical discovery writer in my last newsletter).
You’re creating characters, you’re creating plot, you’re creating tension. All the same things we do in writing, you’re doing on stage, on a whim. So, I would love to share a bit of the advice I’ve taken away from my classes and how you can apply that to your writing!
The kind of improv I do mainly focuses on long-form plays as opposed to the stereotypical short-form games you might think about when you think of improv. My advice mainly revolves around these longer plays in which we spend 10 minutes or so creating and cutting scenes with various characters and plot points to then, ideally, get to a play title we’ve been giving by the audience. Kinda, you know, just like you do with a novel!
Sometimes when you’re in a rut with where to go or what to say next, there is one obvious place to look: your feelings. Often when we don’t know what we’re doing in a scene, it’s because we haven’t connected with our emotions.
Cooking pancakes excitedly is going to look much different than cooking pancakes angrily. Whereas, if you’re cooking pancakes blandly, your audience will have a hard time caring. Where is the buy-in? I feel much more invested in a character drawing a smiley face in a pancake then one staring blankly at their delicious breakfast.
I’ve found this point has helped me tap into how my characters will respond to events in the story. Are they feeling sad their plans were upended? What do they choose to do with that sadness? Perhaps they isolate themselves, or pick a fight with another character. There are so many ways emotions can influence behavior. Finding that emotion will help you find the action.
Simply put, what is the most realistic thing that would happen next? If someone asks you, “Hey, do you want a hot dog?,” you’re most likely not going to say, “Did you see that alien invasion last week?” (Look, I’m not saying it wouldn’t happen in an improv scene, but I’m saying it probably wouldn’t happen in your novel).
This is what we call “crazy town,” when too many improbable things start to happen at once. If too many new, strange things are occurring suddenly, with no skepticism from your main character, we are in crazy town. What feels like the most natural response, the most natural next step? If you have to force it, that’s a red flag.
There are what we call “horizontal” and “vertical” moves in improv. Your horizontal moves are “Yes, and…” where you bring a brand new detail into the scene. Vertical moves are your “Yes, because…” where you build off what is currently happening by explaining why it’s happening.
This is one of the core tenets in improv. It’s also what draws some of the biggest laughs from the audience. One of our constant warm-up drills is simply repeating back what the other person has said to us.
In a scene, we want to repeat the information and question it. (“Ugh, I forgot to wear socks today.” “You forgot to wear socks today?!” “Yes, I forgot to wear socks today!” “Why did you forget to wear socks today?”)
Your characters need to question things that are out of place. Why is this happening? Who is this person? How am I feeling? What can I do next? If something is obviously wrong and your character is ignoring it, you’re going to lose your audience’s trust. Top of your intelligence!
One of my pet peeeeeeves in improv is when a scene goes on too long. It’s boring, we’ve lost the plot, and my mind has drifted off. People are talking just to talk, which does their scene partner a disservice by either distracting from what they were trying to accomplish or overshadowing their role in the scene.
I think that can be super true for novels, too. I am a chronic underwriter, so take this point with a grain of salt, but I abide by the advice that every decision in your novel must have a purpose. Maybe you’ve heard the advice to cut the first and last paragraph of your chapter. Perhaps that confuses the plot too much, but the great thing about a keyboard is that Command Z exists. (Pointing out these retroactive cuts or changes in improv is often where the comedy exists, so that’s a place acting and writing differ greatly. One you can reverse course much easier!)
All this to say, it’s okay to cut a scene early. Probably, actually, more interesting, too. A good rule of thumb is that if you’re bored, your audience is probably bored.
(Aren’t you so happy to be alive right now?) Okay, Hamilton sing-along aside, when you’re in a rut during a scene, ask yourself, “What else is in the room with me right now?” You might find something surprising, like a cool gadget or a crooked chair that your character can interact with. You might find an odd smell or an interesting sound off stage.
This is your five senses typa thing: sight, sound, smell, taste, touch. There will be senses you’re better at than others. Personally, I have a very weak sense of smell, so I always forget to add smell to my written scenes. The good thing is that I know that, so I can look for it on my second pass.
If you’re still stumped after that, it’s probably a good idea to bring a new character into the scene.
It makes your audience feel sympathetic for them. Again, we’re talking about that buy-in and that emotion. Emotion builds character.
If everything is going right in a scene, there are no stakes. This is something I’ve been especially focused on correcting in my own writing: what do my characters want, and what is preventing them from getting it? It’s just like how a superhero with no flaws or a villain with no weaknesses is predictable, because nothing can hurt them. I want to see some angst, some conflict.
(I saw this one piece of advice for improv actors online that said, “Don’t be afraid to die on stage. And stay dead.” Kill your darlings, anyone?)
This is the best lesson I’ve learned. The creative process is about trial-and-error. Discovery. The best scenes are ones you never could’ve predicted. If something didn’t quite work, you can laugh it off and try again.
You can critique creativity, yes, but there shouldn’t be explicit shame in the creative process. I internalize critique a lot, feeling it’s a reflection of my character, but I am a human doing life for the first time like everyone else. I’ve felt a lot more compassion for myself after struggling in an improv scene and realizing after class, hey, no one else thinks I’m an awful person because I couldn’t think of a clever line. It took months to get to that point, but now that I’m there, I’m so grateful.
So you, friend, reading this. You’re doing great! Laugh it off and try again. You’ve got this.
Read my interview about my short story “The Apath” with After Dinner Conversation here:
Looking for more? My website is here.
No posts

Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.