Writing, writing process

Procrastinating? Propel yourself with a prompt

As I’ve written before, I’m a big fan of writing prompts. I always have ideas for stories and I jot them down in a notebook, but when it comes time to actually sit down and formulate a story from beginning to end, I get overwhelmed and attempt to fight the urge to run screaming from my laptop. I don’t always win this fight. Most of the hikes I go on are actually me running as far as I can, just to get away from this feeling. And then I come home and write something, even if it’s just a rambling entry in a journal, and all is well.

The moral of that story is, I really enjoy writing. It’s cathartic.

ENTER: THE WRITING PROMPT

The best way to get started on writing is to start small.
Step one: Google writing prompts and find one that sparks some interest.
Step two: Freefall write about it. Set a timer on your phone for 10 minutes and just write. Don’t stop to edit, don’t worry about grammar, or punctuation, just write it out.
Step three: Either build what you wrote into a story or, don’t. Whatever you do, you’ve already done yourself a favour by writing.

Here is my result from today’s writing prompt:

Write a first line that has an impact.

For additional fun, I wrote one about my morning: Today, I write while sitting under the light of a blood-red sun which burns through the wildfire haze in the sky.

For the rest of my prompt-writing session, I wrote a bunch of first lines for a murder story:

  • When I woke up that morning, I had absolutely no intention of murdering anyone.
  • As I blearily rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I pondered what to make for breakfast; a simple thought that certainly didn’t alert me to the fact that on this day, I’d become a serial killer.
  • While I washed the blood from my hands, I had a quick flashback to my morning, where I had sat peacefully on my balcony, drinking coffee, with no knowledge that I was going to kill someone today.
  • I numbly cleaned the blood from the knife and then in a panic, tried to scrub it off my hands; what had I done?
  • As I stabbed the figure writhing on the ground, a scream pierced the silence, and was absorbed by the elephantine trees that surrounded us.
  • My heart was pounding in my ears and I could feel the blood rushing to my limbs as I gained control over the figure beneath me.

…well, that’s all the murder I’ve got in me for today. Thanks for reading!

Do you write from prompts? Feel like sharing what you wrote? Post in the comments, I’d love to read it!

 

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