Acting and Writing
- Nic Brownlie

- Apr 16
- 4 min read
N.B. The following blog was drafted, coincidentally, just one day before I read page 114 of Bernadine Evaristo's autobiography, in which she confirms the influence of acting on her writing. A link to the book on Waterstones' website is provided at the end of the blog and I have added a couple of quotations from it to demonstrate Evaristo's view of the kind of things I am saying. The power of the connection is as strong as ever!

I have been reading Bernadine Evaristo's memoir this week and something that stands out - apart from the wonderful clarity and impact of the writing - is the fact that Bernadine, a Booker prize winner, went to Rose Bruford Drama School in her youth.
Her recollections of that time in her life reminded me of my own experience of Mountview Theatre School in the late 1980s (where I was a contemporary, among others, of the wonderful Eddie Marsan). Evaristo's book has particularly put me in mind of three things:
the entirely practical activities we undertook each day at drama school, revolving around acting, dancing, singing and putting on productions (some of the best days of my life, although I didn't realise it at the time!);
the friendships forged with people I spent 16 hours a day with, in situations that were frequently emotionally demanding in unique ways (friendships I still maintain to this day);
the parallels between acting and writing which I have long proclaimed.
This last point, which anyone who has been on of our tutored retreats will recognise, has grown ever more clear to me in recent years. For the more I have had the pleasure of working with professional writers, the more obvious have become the links between acting technique and the craft of writing. It is one facet of our unique offer at A Place to Write that I think needs fuller explanation - especially if, like most writers, you are reading this thinking 'But I am not an actor, I hate the idea of performing, and I don't ever want to act'! Bear with me and see what you make of the following...
During [my] teenage years I transitioned from someone who had long been transported by other people's lives through reading novels to someone who, through performance, tried to metamorphose into other people, which would lead to my desire to inhabit lives that were not my own through becoming a writer of fiction myself.
- Bernadine Evaristo, Manifesto, p.114
Firstly, a great actor is, above all, creative. They must actively engage and sustain their imagination—even when they don’t feel like performing. How do they do this? By using simple techniques that anyone can learn.
Secondly, great actors step into other people’s minds and emotions, just as writers do. To achieve this, they rely on powerful techniques. Every night, an actor must fully inhabit their character, without hiccups. The most effective way to do this is by focusing on core ideas that are central to all storytelling: showing rather than telling, understanding their character’s goals, and following their character’s arc.

Thirdly, actors must adapt to and communicate through a wide range of language: short emotional outbursts, long and complex sentences, figurative expression, intellectual debate, or simply lines rich in subtext, where the true meaning lies beneath the surface. Although actors are given these words, their task goes beyond simply reciting them: they must inhabit the character’s language in the same way that they must inhabit their body.
In doing all this, actors are putting into practice what writers typically do at a desk. And when a great actor works with a great director, the result is more than a single character’s journey. Together, they create a complete world on stage: multiple characters engaged in unfolding events that capture attention and build toward a powerful climax.
This, of course, is storytelling—a narrative with a beginning, middle, and end. Characters grow, change, and discover truths about themselves and others, leading to memorable outcomes, all created for an audience. At its core, acting and writing are both about crafting a work of fiction that fully engages those who experience it. It is where my own understanding of both the basics and the complexities of writing and storytelling developed:
Acting taught me how to construct the best stories.
Acting taught me what makes interesting characters tick.
Acting taught me about character arcs and the goals that shape them.
Acting taught me about showing not telling.
Acting taught me about dialogue and subtext and non-verbal communication.
Acting taught me about emotions and how to express them clearly.
Acting taught me about language and how to use it effectively.
Acting taught me about myself and the world I inhabit.

Do you need to act in order to write better? Of course not. But by drawing on the experience of people who know what acting is, you can develop insights into the craft of storytelling that can only come from a trained theatre practitioner. And your writing will grow too.
Bernadine Evaristo did not become a writer because she was a theatre practitioner, but there is no doubt in my mind that her writing and her writing style - gloriously clear, powerful, emotional, memorable and effective as they are - result from lessons absorbed at drama school.
As a storyteller, I am continually drawn to understanding and conveying human psychology and to inhabiting the lives of my characters, feeling them from the inside, much as I had as an actor'.
- Bernadine Evaristo, Manifesto
Till next time!
Nic



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