Writing a Children’s middle grade mystery book is a huge departure from writing a Romance novel. The idea of writing a children’s book appealed to me because the word count was less. During a time when I had less time on my hands and more work to do with the children, writing less was definitely a bonus, but what really inspired me to put aside romance for a while and focus on a different genre of writing?

During the Covid lock down, I joined an online creative writing class. It met weekly and focused on a particular writing topic per week: character, dialogue, story structure, drip feeding and non-fiction writing.

The format was teaching, followed by a writing prompt with feedback. The sessions were informative, challenging and fun. However, one particular session inspired me more that the rest: Swapping genres.

The premise was to take an opening chapter from an adult work of fiction and rewrite it as a children’s story and vice versa. The choices were: The Girl on the Train and Alice in Wonderland. We were tasked with taking one of the stories and flipping it. I decided to work on The Girl on the Train and switch it into a children’s story.

This is what I wrote:

The train rumbles on, the now familiar clatter of metal on metal as the wheels move ever onward, lulling me into a false sense of security. I lazily watch the rows of terraced houses with their long gardens that continue unending the nearer we get to the city centre. My mind, however, is busy, thinking, imagining what awaits me when I arrive at our station. The sun shines brightly through the window, with a sense of optimism I do not feel. Everything about this journey feels wrong. Especially, leaving my wonderful life behind: my safe, familiar home my forever friends and the endless countryside of fields, trees and streams ready for exploration. I am heading to a destination unknown. London, a big city I have never visited before and a new life that my mother sitting opposite me has decided to share very little about, therefore I have been forced to make my own conclusions:

I will not like living in a big city

There is some secret my mother wishes to keep hidden

Life is going to get much worse

The train slows to a stop at some lights and we sit and wait. Rather than look at my mother, I stare out across the garden of the Victorian three story house in front of me. It looks the same as the rest but then I noticed a girl about my age, 11 or 12 I would guess, long blonde hair and a sharp fringe, grubby jeans, and an old t-shirt. She is staring out of her window and it feels like she is looking at me. I wish we could swap places, we look so similar.  I briefly wonder what it would be like to be her, to be safe in my bedroom, instead of here, on this train, heading towards the bad things. The train starts off again and the dark clouds finally releases the first splatters of rain, she raises her hand, like she is saying goodbye. I taste blood on my lip.

There is one more point I can add:

I know for a fact that my father was murdered.

After I had finished, I knew the story had potential, I had that stirring of excitement in my stomach, the one that tells me I have a story to write. So, I did!

Writing in a different genre boosted my creativity, there were no expectations only experimentation.

Interestingly, elements from this writing session and this first basic draft, still remain in my final manuscript: How to Solve a Murder that Never Happened. My lead character is called Alice, the story starts on a train and it is a mystery.