Ways to Find a Great Premise for a Romance Novel
Coming up with a new idea is terrifying, really. I absolutely love being a published author, but knowing that there is a readership waiting for you to sweep them away with the perfect love story when all you’ve got is a glaringly blank page can be a little intimidating. I really felt that pressure after my debut, The Flatshare, was published—the book was so lovingly received, and I was so grateful and so blown away by that, but I couldn’t help feeling worried about whether I could come up with another story that people would enjoy.
(4 Questions to Ask When Writing Romantic Scenes.)
Since then, I’ve learned that, for me, the key to finding my next novel’s premise is to start playing with new ideas long before anyone asks for them. The pressure of needing to come up with something is the worst thing for my creativity—it’s like how you can’t hiccup when someone tells you to. (That’s a great tip for stopping the hiccups, by the way. You’re welcome.) So when I’m coming to the end of a first draft on one book, I’m already thinking up the next.
I’ve also learned that there is a particular state of mind in which ideas come more easily—it’s a kind of absent-mindedness, the sort of place you get into when you’re chopping vegetables for dinner or walking the dog. I have to let my mind wander. So at this stage of the writing process, I always give myself lots of thinking time, and ignore the voice in my head telling me to sit at my desk and get on with my job. Because actually, at that stage, wandering around staring into space kind of is my job.
What I’m looking for when I’m beginning a new novel is a question or situation that makes me think “ooh.” Something unexpected—a twist on a classic romance trope, a unique scenario, a way to throw people together that’s not been done before. Sometimes I come at that problem quite directly: I’ll play around with tropes I love and say, how could I approach that differently?
And sometimes I just think about ways that people might meet unexpectedly, or I might dwell on a person I saw in the supermarket earlier, or a conversation I had five years ago, and then pop, in comes a question like “What might happen if someone tried to return a bunch of wedding rings from the lost-and-found?” (The Wake-Up Call, that’s what.)
As nerve-wracking as it can be to have no idea for your next book, the process of coming up with a new story is actually one of my absolute favorite parts of being a writer. It feels a little magical to me. That pop, seemingly from nowhere—it seems like a mini miracle every time.
Once I have my question or my quirky scenario—in this case, my lost wedding rings waiting to be returned—I find that character usually comes next. With this idea, I really loved the thought that two people could be racing to return the rings. Turning it into a competition ups the stakes, and it’s also a way to bring two people together, which is always something I’m seeking as a romance writer.
And… what if they hated each other? I love the enemies-to-lovers trope, and relished the chance to put my own spin on it. I wanted to dig into the why behind it, because actually, the idea that you could truly hate someone and then grow to love them? That is totally fascinating, psychologically speaking.
Check out Beth O’Leary’s The Wake-Up Call here:
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The premise for The Wake-Up Call came together pretty quickly and neatly, as my books go, but often my process is much messier. With The Road Trip, my sunny second-chance romance, it took three years from the original premise popping into my head (what if two people crashed cars on their way to the same wedding, then had to car-share?) to starting the novel, and this was because I always knew the premise was missing something. It felt like a half idea—it needed an extra ingredient to be really special.
It’s hard to explain exactly what made me so sure that the book wasn’t ready to be written yet. It’s a gut feeling, really—a sense that if I explained the premise to a friend, I wouldn’t get all zingy and giddy about it. I’d feel a bit flat. It’s like knowing an outfit is missing some jewelry, or that a dish needs seasoning.
The final premise of that book is a great example of something else I find works when you’re coming up with a new book: blending two half-formed ideas together. I wanted to write a heady, first-love summer romance set in Provence, France—I was there on holiday and I just felt so inspired by the place. But again, my instincts told me it wasn’t enough to be a whole book.
So I thought, what if I go back to my car crash idea, but those two people are exes? Because then they’ve had a whole other love story before—perhaps one that began in beautiful, sunny Provence. I can write two love stories about one couple… in one book. And at last, I had a whole premise!
Most of all, though, what I find works when coming up with a new idea is trusting yourself—and that’s sometimes the hardest thing of all. You have to believe you can do it. And if you’re reading this, listen—I bet you can. Give yourself the space, the trust, and the time, and that story will come to you. And when it does, it’ll be magical.