How To Start Writing A Romance Novel

I've always been fascinated by mystery novels, and I think the best way to start writing one is to focus on the puzzle itself. Start with a compelling crime or unsolved event—something that hooks the reader immediately. The key is to build layers of intrigue, dropping clues subtly while keeping the real solution just out of reach. I like to sketch out the crime scene first, deciding who was involved and what their motives might be. Then, I develop the detective or protagonist, giving them a unique perspective or flaw that makes solving the case personal. Red herrings are essential, but they should feel natural, not forced. The setting also plays a huge role; a small town with dark secrets or a sprawling city with hidden alleys can add so much atmosphere. Finally, I make sure the resolution is satisfying but not obvious, leaving readers feeling like they could have pieced it together if they’d noticed the right details.

Writing a fantasy novel feels like diving into an ocean of possibilities. The first thing I do is build the world—not just maps and magic systems, but the heartbeat of it. What makes this place alive? Maybe it’s a city where streets twist like snakes, or a forest that whispers secrets. I jot down fragments: a cursed crown, a tavern where time stands still, a rebellion brewing in shadows. The key is to let the world breathe before locking it into rules. Characters come next, but they’re never puppets. I imagine them as people who’ve lived in this world long before I showed up. A thief with a moral compass? A wizard who hates magic? Their flaws are what make them real. I scribble dialogues in random notebooks, testing their voices. Sometimes the plot changes because a character refuses to follow my outline—and that’s when the story starts to sing. The hardest part is balance. Too much lore upfront drowns readers; too little leaves them lost. I trickle details through action—a character sharpening a sword might reveal the metal’s rarity, or a superstition muttered in passing hints at deeper myths. And I always remind myself: even in a world of dragons, emotions are universal. Fear, love, betrayal—they’re the anchors that keep the fantastical grounded.

I’ve always been drawn to fantasy because it lets my imagination run wild. When I started writing my own novel, I began with world-building. Creating a unique setting was crucial—something vivid and immersive, like the magical realms in 'The Name of the Wind' or the intricate politics of 'The Stormlight Archive'. I sketched maps, devised cultures, and even made up languages to make the world feel alive. Then, I focused on the protagonist. A relatable yet flawed character, like Fitz from 'The Farseer Trilogy', adds depth. Plot came last for me. I outlined key events but left room for spontaneity. Writing fantasy is about balancing structure and creativity, letting the story evolve naturally.

I've always been fascinated by how love stories can capture the rawest emotions, and that fascination became my fuel. Growing up, I devoured romance novels like they were oxygen—'Pride and Prejudice,' 'Jane Eyre,' even cheesy Harlequins. There was something magical about how these stories made my heart race and my imagination soar. But what really pushed me to write was a personal heartbreak. Sounds cliché, right? But it’s true. When my first serious relationship ended, I channeled all that ache into creating a love story where the characters got the happy ending I didn’t. Writing became my therapy. I started posting snippets online, and the feedback was addictive. People connected with the messy, imperfect love I described—not just the grand gestures, but the quiet moments too. The way a character’s hands shake when they’re nervous, or how a shared joke becomes their secret language. That’s when I realized: romance isn’t just about escapism. It’s about mirroring the hope and resilience we all carry, even when life feels like a tragedy. Now, every time I write, I aim to bottle that lightning—the kind of love that makes readers believe in second chances.

Starting a romance novel is like lighting a fuse—you need that initial spark to set everything in motion. I always begin by figuring out the core dynamic between the leads. Are they enemies forced to work together? Childhood friends reuniting after years? Strangers thrown into an absurd situation? That first encounter is crucial—it should crackle with tension, whether it’s witty banter or a collision of conflicting goals. The key is making readers feel something immediately, even if it’s just curiosity or secondhand embarrassment. Setting matters too, but not in the way you’d think. A coffee shop or office romance can work if you inject freshness into it. Maybe the barista spills a latte on the CEO’s thousand-dollar suit, or the rivals are stuck in an elevator during a blackout. Stakes don’t have to be life-or-death, but they should matter deeply to the characters. I obsess over small details—a character biting their lip when nervous, or the way sunlight hits the other’s hair—because those moments make the emotional payoff land harder later. The worst mistake is info-dumping backstory upfront. Let the characters reveal themselves through actions. If the heroine avoids hospitals, show her fainting at a blood drive, don’t just state she’s traumatized. Romance lives in the gaps between what’s said and unsaid, so I weave in subtext like hidden threads. A gift given grudgingly, a hand almost touched then withdrawn—these tiny gestures build anticipation. The best openings make you lean in, wondering how these two idiots will ever admit they’re perfect for each other.

Writing a fantasy book is like embarking on an epic adventure, and I love every step of the process. The first thing I do is immerse myself in world-building. I sketch out the rules of magic, the history of kingdoms, and the cultures of different races. It’s important to make the world feel alive and consistent. For inspiration, I often revisit classics like 'The Lord of the Rings' or 'The Name of the Wind' to see how masters like Tolkien and Rothfuss weave their worlds. Next, I focus on characters. A great fantasy story needs compelling protagonists and villains. I spend time fleshing out their backstories, motivations, and flaws. For example, a hero might start as a humble farm boy, but their journey should transform them. I also love adding quirky side characters—they bring humor and depth. Plotting comes last. I outline the main conflicts and twists, but leave room for surprises. Writing fantasy is all about balancing imagination with structure.

Dan Fogelman’s journey into novel writing is a fascinating blend of creativity and persistence. He initially made a name for himself in the entertainment industry as a screenwriter, penning scripts for films like 'Crazy, Stupid, Love' and 'Tangled.' His ability to craft compelling narratives and relatable characters laid the groundwork for his transition into novel writing. Fogelman’s storytelling often revolves around human connections, a theme that resonates deeply in his work. His foray into novels was a natural progression, driven by his desire to explore more complex and intimate stories. While he hasn’t published a traditional novel yet, his work on the TV series 'This Is Us' showcases his novelistic approach to storytelling. The series, with its intricate timelines and emotional depth, feels like a novel brought to life. Fogelman’s career is a testament to how diverse storytelling mediums can complement each other, and I’m excited to see if he ventures further into the literary world.

Starting a romance novel is all about setting the tone and making the reader feel something right from the first page. I love when a book opens with a strong, vivid scene that immediately pulls you into the world. For example, 'The Hating Game' by Sally Thorne starts with the protagonist and her rival in a tense office dynamic, sparking instant curiosity. Another approach is to introduce the main character’s inner conflict or desire, like in 'The Love Hypothesis' by Ali Hazelwood, where the heroine’s struggle with academia and love is laid bare from the start. A great opening can also be a moment of vulnerability or humor, something that makes the reader connect emotionally. The key is to avoid info-dumping and instead let the characters and their chemistry drive the narrative forward. A memorable first line or scene can make all the difference in hooking your audience.