In my legacy-writing group, we were recently tasked to write the worst opening sentence ever for a novel. I’m thinking I won the prize. Mary was born in Poughkeepsie, lived in Poughkeepsie, and died in Poughkeepsie. The End. So I guess that’s actually two sentences, but you get the point—bad in every possible way.

However, in pondering that beginning, I wonder what happens to Mary? Every life has a purpose. Other than providing a really good bad beginning to a novel, what purpose does Mary have in life? Could I possibly write a story about Mary and make her drab life so exciting that the book would fly off the shelves at Barnes and Nobles?

I once taught a two-hour seminar titled How to Write a Novel. I felt my experience as an English teacher and having written my own memoir—The Road Home: The Legacy that was, is, and is to Come on Amazon.com and FranklinScribes.com 2013, paperback, ebook, audio—should qualify me as a teacher of novel writing. (That’s my unashamed attempt at promoting my work.) That should put me right up there with Stephen King, right?

The seminar went well; several people asked if I would teach another class expounding on all the information I presented. I left there that night so thankful that no one asked the name of my novel (that has yet to be written). Perhaps they were all more interested in their own books.

So this takes me back to Mary. Using my own teaching, I know I need to address the four W’s and the one H—who, what, where, when, how. Who is Mary? What makes her tick? What makes her angry, sad, discouraged? What trouble finds Mary? What does she look like? Where is Mary? I know she’s in Poughkeepsie, but where in Poughkeepsie?—in an apartment building, in corporate America in downtown Poughkeepsie? When does her story take place—1920s, 1950s—or maybe the 1700s or 1800s? Was there even a Poughkeepsie in the 1700s? And then, how. How does Mary keep her sanity through everything she endures? Or if she does live the drab life that my first sentence portrays, how is that exciting enough to push me on to the New York Times Best Seller list?

First things first—research. Where is Poughkeepsie? I have no idea. Figuring that out probably should be the first thing. A quick google search for Poughkeepsie says it’s in Dutchess County, New York, midway between Albany and New York City. Now I have to determine what Poughkeepsie smells like, what sights would I see there, what about the sounds?—Birds singing all the time or busy streets? What special foods would I eat in Poughkeepsie?

WAIT—put the brakes on (Do you hear them screeching?) Why would I write on a town with which I have no past or present connection? Using Poughkeepsie will keep me up late into the night conducting all kinds of research—what’s the industry there? What’s the weather like? Do they have heavy snowstorms? Are people friendly? Democrat or Republican? Liberal or Conservative? I need to know all of this to determine what type of person Mary has become. This research is tiring me out already.

I need to go back to my first commandment of writing (from my personal list). “Writers write what they know.” Hmm—so what do I know?

I know Wellsboro, Pennsylvania. I know Spring Branch, Texas, and San Antonio, Texas. So which one will it be? Maybe Mary grows up in Wellsboro, but moves to San Antonio. But then that doesn’t give Mary that drab life that she lives. Perhaps I need to edit my beginning sentence. Mary needs a life. Mary’s life needs a purpose—she needs to climb a mountain, maybe several mountains. She needs to ford every stream and follow every rainbow till she finds her dream. WAIT—sounds like a song I know. But why not?

Actually, this is sounding like my daughter’s life. She has hiked the Grand Canyon and Machu Picchu; I’m sure somewhere in her travels throughout Mexico, Central America, South America, North America,  Europe, Africa and India she has forded some stream. I also know she has followed her rainbow and is now a surgeon. So maybe this is the pattern I use to write my novel. Not a novel about Emily, but a novel that involves some of her explorations and escapades. I know my daughter inside and out; I know her quirkiness, what makes her happy; what makes her sad; what infuriates her. I know what she values—family and friends. But I also know her adventurous spirit could get her into trouble. And there’s my novel.

Yes, I will go back and do a total revision of my beginning sentence. But that’s my number two commandment on writing—revise, revise, revise—and when you think your novel is ready for publishing, revise again.

Thanks for going on this journey of discovery with me. I hope it has helped you, too, in thinking through the next step on your writing journey. Happy writing!