Column by Angela Jackson-Brown

Angela Jackson-Brown is an award-winning writer, poet and playwright. She is an Associate Professor at Indiana University in Bloomington, IN where she teaches in the creative writing program. She is also a member of the graduate faculty of the Naslund-Mann Graduate School of Writing at Spalding University in Louisville, KY. She is the author of Drinking From a Bitter Cup, House Repairs, When Stars Rain Down, The Light Always Breaks, Homeward and an upcoming novel, Untethered.


At the end of the day, whether I am writing a novel, a play, a poem, or an essay, I am simply putting words on the page. I don’t construct a new language for one genre or the next. So, if I want to think about the things that separate novel writing from playwriting, I must focus on more than the words. I must consider narrative structure and pacing, character development, dialogue, and the distinctions between reader engagement and audience engagement.

Narrative Structure and Pacing

As a novelist, I can rely on flashbacks, inner monologues, and multiple points of view. Playwriting, by contrast, typically demands a tighter, more linear structure because plays are not read but performed live. While some plays experiment with non-linear storytelling, most traditional plays are structured around acts and scenes that unfold in real-time. This format makes it challenging to shift between locations or perspectives as seamlessly as in a novel.

The playwright doesn’t have the luxury of using backstory or inner thoughts to communicate a character’s experience. Instead, the story is conveyed primarily through dialogue, meaning there can be no throwaway lines. Even when characters engage in “small talk,” the dialogue must still serve a purpose in advancing the story. As a result, the pacing in playwriting often feels faster and more direct, with every line of dialogue or action driving the story forward in a visible, impactful way.

Character Development and Dialogue

Character development also differs significantly depending on whether I am writing a play or a novel. When crafting a novel, I can delve into my characters’ inner thoughts and emotions, presenting them directly on the page. This allows the reader to immediately understand what my characters are feeling, fostering a deep connection to them.

In contrast, when writing a play, I must rely on dialogue and action to reveal my characters’ emotions. A character’s inner world must be inferred from what they say, how they interact with others, and their body language on stage. Dialogue in a play must be razor-sharp, purposeful, and reveal character traits, relationships, and conflicts. This ensures the audience can follow the trajectory of the story without relying on internal monologues. Instead of explicitly stating a character’s feelings, I must craft dialogue that implies them while simultaneously advancing the plot.

Reader Engagement versus Audience Engagement

The ways readers and audiences engage with novels and plays are vastly different. Reading a novel is a private, immersive experience. A reader can reread parts they don’t understand or take days, weeks, or months to finish a novel. They can revisit it anytime they like, reflecting on passages at their own pace.

Plays, however, are meant to be experienced communally. Audience engagement with a play is immediate, and audiences often feed off each other’s reactions. The collective response can vary from night to night, depending on the makeup of the audience. With every laugh, gasp, or tear, the audience becomes one with the play—and with each other.

As a playwright, I must anticipate these reactions and adjust the pacing, rhythm, and dramatic beats to elicit the desired emotions in real-time. Since there is no “rewind” button in live theater, I am tasked with crafting moments that land effectively on the first pass. Every scene and line of dialogue must be impactful, memorable, and comprehensible in a single viewing.

Conclusion

The differences between novel writing and playwriting stem from the unique demands of each form. People often ask me which form I enjoy most. I tell them I always allow the story to “tell me” what it wants to become. Sometimes, it wants to be both. Right now, I am working on a novel that I also hope to develop into a play. Other times, it’s clear that a story will work better as a play or a novel—but not both.

In any case, the art of writing is about telling a story with honesty and being open to exploring literary forms that we may never have used before. Ultimately, the goal is to choose the form that best helps us tell our stories effectively.

Untethered

Untethered by Angela Jackson-Brown

In 1967 Troy, Alabama, Katia Daniels devotes her life to caring for the boys at a group home while grappling with the weight of her family’s past and her own unfulfilled dreams of motherhood. Amid workplace struggles and personal loss, the reappearance of a high school friend forces Katia to confront her desires and consider a future shaped by her own choices. Set against the backdrop of a changing South, this is a heartfelt story of love, duty, and self-discovery.

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