Steps to Writing a Musical || Lin-Manuel Miranda

Step Two: Define Your Characters

About two weeks in, Lin called you at 3 AM on a Saturday. You groaned at the sound of vibrations against your wooden bedside table and reached over for your phone. You didn't bother looking at the caller ID. You knew Lin was your only friend who would call at any time of the day or night.

"Are you dying?" You asked groggily.

"Y/N, I - No, I'm not dying."

"Then why are you calling me?"

"I need help with the some stuff for the show. Why? Were you sleeping?"

"That's what normal people do at 3 AM."

He chuckled at your grumpiness as you rolled over, trying to get more comfortable. You scrunched your eyebrows together as you heard rustling on the other end. "Look," Lin said, "If you come to my house right now and help me, there will be Chinese food and beer waiting for you."

You contemplated it when your stomach growled at the thought, "What kind of Chinese food?"

"Whatever you want. I ordered, like, half the menu by mistake."

"How do you order half the menu by mistake?"

"By overestimating your ability to speak Chinese."

You chuckled as you threw your blankets off, your legs swinging over the side of the bed. "I look like crap." You told him as you grabbed a pair of sweats.

"Then we'll have something in common."

Soon after the phone call ended, he texted his address to you. You realized it wasn't too far from your own house, but decided to take the car to be safe.

As you drove, you chuckled to yourself. It had only been fourteen days, and you and Lin were already really close friends. Although you didn't talk about yourself much, you felt like you could tell him anything. He was always there to listen, whether it was your opinion on a lyric or your prediction for the next Super Bowl winner.

When you arrived, Lin answered the door at lightning speed. "Hey you." He grinned. "Come in."

"You're unnaturally cheery for 3 AM."

"Please, this is nothing." He brushed off. As you sat on the floor with all of his papers, he handed you a take out box and a pair of chopsticks. "My record is three days."

"That is ridiculous."

You looked up at him as he rooted through all his papers. His hair, which was pulled up into a tiny ponytail due to the awkward length of it, was falling in his face as he searched for the right notes. You could see him mumbling to himself while he went through each one. You rarely got to see him like this. You knew that whenever he got into a zone, he'd be off the grid. Doesn't answer the door, turns off his phone, everything. It wasn't very often that someone was with him during those hectic times.

"So," He started, "I'm having trouble deciding how I want to characterize each person."

"Okay."

"So, Hamilton starts out as this outgoing, but kinda intimidated guy when he meets Burr 'cause, ya know, he's Aaron Burr. But I'm having trouble with his progression as a character."

"Well, why don't you-"

"And Burr! Every time I write him, I feel like I'm writing the same things over and over, like where does he develop?"

"Lin-"

"And by the way, I'm thinking double casting for some of these parts. I know that's, like, way ahead of the process, but I think it'd be cool-"