So, in my last post, (Which was a whole month ago.  I swear I meant to post sooner) I’d hoped to get some people riled up and writing.  And hopefully, you started working on some writing. But sometimes, both for beginners and the more seasoned pros, you find yourself just staring at a blank page, wondering where to start.  And that can be where good intentions start to die.  So I figured it’d be a good idea to write a post on how to start a story when it’s just not working.

HOW TO BEGIN A NEW STORY

Last time, I advised to just start writing. But that that doesn’t always work.  So in case motivation is flagging, here’s my list of common issues and solutions to get you back on track.

Problem 1. Finding an idea. Sometimes, you just don’t know what to write. Luckily, there’s a lot of sources for Writing Prompts!  You can try Reddit or find a book!  Or sometimes, the best sources are just to think about your own life, or an interesting story you’ve heard.  Adding a few twists on your own life can result in something amazing.

But maybe you knew that. Maybe you went through a dozen prompts, and they all bored you. I know that I’ve been there before.  Chances are, you’re suffering from what’s known as Choice Overload.

The truth is, you could probably write a story on any number of ideas, even something as simple as dropping the soap or something wacky like time-travelling aliens fighting Hitler in a world with superpowers while God and the Devil play a game. Just about any idea can spawn a story if you’re really devoted. But now you’ve considered so many that none of them are sticking out over the others as the best. So let’s eliminate some options. Go write out a list of every single idea you have, however you prefer to get ideas.  Then get a die (if you have a twenty-sided die around, even better) or your favourite number generator.  And roll the dice! Find the prompt that matches that number.

Problem 2: Refining an idea. Now maybe you did all that and still got one that you don’t want to write. It’s too specific or not specific enough or maybe you just thought it was silly. Remember, prompts are meant to just be starting spots. Let’s think of some ways to twist the initial idea.

• Whatever character(s) you originally pictured in the prompt, considering switching their gender(s).
• If it was a prompt about you, picture someone diametrically opposed to you in the same situation.
• If it’s a romantic idea, consider writing about a homosexual relationship.
• If the prompt is about famous person, replace their name with someone else in a similar position.
• If it’s about God or the devil, consider using a different god, like Zeus and Hades. Or maybe it’s Zeus and Lucifier! Mix and match.
• Not all conflicts are on a grand scale.  If the prompt is about a conflict, consider scaling it down to be between children, or scaling it up to be between countries or even planets.
• If you’re still drawing a blank, roll the die again. But since this can easily put you back into problem one, this is the last dice roll! And now there’s one more option for a twist. Consider writing a story based on both this and the last prompt.

Problem 3: Defeating Anxiety. By now, you probably have some idea, even if you don’t think it’s a good one. Well, that’s our goal for today, so don’t worry. Not every story you write will be a blockbuster. Sometimes, you just need something short that you can write in an evening and forget, just to stay in practice and clear the air so you can come back to writing masterpieces tomorrow. Maybe it’ll even come out better than you think.

Problem 3: Defeating the blank page. Alright, so hopefully now, we have an idea on what to write. But the trick is, where to start? I’m sure everyone has had the experience of writing and rewriting the first sentence a dozen times. So here’s two words to start your story.

“One Tuesday…”

Yup, that easy. You could also do “Once upon a time…” if you prefer. But this is just a quick and dirty trick. See, now that you know where the story starts, you can write out that first sentence.

“One Tuesday, Mary’s perfectly calm afternoon was destroyed by the piercing wail of a child’s cry.”

And now hopefully, you can move on to finish the rest of the story. But obviously, you don’t want every story you write to start with “One Tuesday” or “Once upon a time.” And that’s where the dirty trick comes in. Once you’ve finished your story, go back to the beginning, and erase those words.

“Mary’s perfectly calm afternoon was destroyed by the piercing wail of a child’s cry.”

Problem 4: Defeating procrastination. Weren’t you listening last time? Stop procrastinating, go write!

But seriously, I get it. Sometimes, you’re always promising it’ll be just 5 more minutes. So let’s get down to the brass tacks.

• Do you have 30 minutes right now? Go find a timer and set it for 25 minutes.  Then just write.  Then when it’s done, you can take a 5 minute break, and maybe do it again.
• Sometimes, life is just busy and you can’t find the chance to write. In this case, try writing it into your schedule. Wake up 30 minutes earlier, or set aside 30 minutes in the evening or at your lunch hour just devoted to you writing.
• If you’re seriously time limited, try spending 5 minutes sometime throughout the day to write an outline first. A good outline can help you double the amount of words you’re putting out when you do get a chance to write.

And that’s it for this post!  Now go write, because writing is fun.  🙂

“Alright, let’s go play,” I said to my friend beside me. From her desk, my mom sighed with annoyance.

“I told you 5 minutes ago, Annie, I can’t go out and play.” She didn’t even turn around from the computer as she complained. Too busy as always.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Mom,” I said, sticking out my tongue. “I was talking to Penelope, she was suggesting we go out.”

“Oh, Penelope suggested that, did she?” I could hear my mom’s patronizing tone. She never seemed to like my friend. “Well, then you and Penelope go have fun. I need to work.”

“We will,” I promised bitterly. “Don’t you worry about it.”

Penelope had barely shut the door behind us before I started to rant. “Ugh, I can’t stand when she talks to me like that. Like I’m crazy or something.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Penelope said, tossing her pink hair over her shoulder. “I’ve told you before, she can’t see me. She might think you are.”

“Yeah but if she would just listen to me for once… arrgh. Instead she’s always too busy working to even look at me. And then she just uses that stupid tone of voice to dismiss everything I say…” I kicked a white stone down the street in frustration.

“It could always be worse.” Penelope had a sympathetic smile on her face. She always looked a little sad when I fought with my mom.

“I doubt that,” I growled, stomping off down the street. “Come on, let’s go get some ice cream or something.”

“Wake up,” I heard my mom say. “It’s time for school.”

I rolled over in my bed and stared up at the white-stucco ceiling. “Yeah yeah, I’m getting up.”

“Did you hear me Annie? I said it’s time to wake up!” My mom repeated herself like I hadn’t just answered her. I tried not to roll my eyes in response.

“Yeah Mom, I heard you,” I said, sitting up in my bed. “What’s the big deal?”

“You’re going to be late if you don’t wake up!” my mom insisted. I opened my mouth to retort, but the words froze in my mouth. She wasn’t even looking at me, she was shaking the body laying beside me in bed. Penelope’s pink hair poked out the top and she stirred into wakefulness.

“Sorry Mom,” I heard her say in my voice. “Getting up now.”

“Finally,” my mom grumped. “I swear you sleep like the dead, Annie.”

I stared at Penelope with my mouth hanging open wide. She gave me a mischievous smile.

“I told you there were worse things.”

Originally posted on /r/WritingPrompts on reddit.

“Look, there’s good days, and then there’s bad days. On good days, nothing explodes, patient zero does not spontaneously combust, and nobody dies,” Mr. Kinder said while locking his office door behind him. Sam stared at the man like he’d grown an extra head.

“And…” After a line like that, Sam was scared to follow-up on what exactly his new job would entail, but he was determined to not fuck up this opportunity like he had his last 4 jobs. “And what happens on a bad day, Sir?”

“On bad days,” Mr Kinder said, “we manage.”

His serious expression broke with a small smile. “Don’t worry kid, we hardly ever have bad days any more.”

Sam wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that, but he dutifully followed his new boss as he set off at a quick pace down the hallway, pointing out landmarks along the way.

“…and this is the copier. Damn thing is always broken, that’s why we put it right next to our IT department. Say hello, techies.” Three non-descript men wearing band t-shirt’s and jeans waved to Sam in unison from over computers. Sam barely had a chance to wave back before Mr. Kinder was moving onto the kitchen. “…Coffee is free, just be sure to make a new pot if you finish the old one. If we run out, leave a note with Rachael at the front desk…”

Sam took a sip from the styrofoam cup of black liquid that was thrust into his hands before rushing off to wave hello to a woman who’s name he missed sitting in the HR office. Finally, Mr Kinder stopped at an empty cubicle, gesturing to the computer. “And this is your new desk. IT should have set up your email already, I’ll just leave you here for now. I’m sure you have plenty of information to digest.”

“Uh… Thanks, sir,” Samn sputtered, but the man was already gone, his sharp suit disappearing into the cubicle farm. Sam sat down at his new desk, staring at the thick packet of papers on it labelled “New Computer Setup.”

He was most of the way through page 4 of 12 when he was interrupted by a woman poking her head into the office.

“Hey!” she said cheerfully. “You must be the new guy. I’m Connie.”

“Sam,” he said, sticking out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too! I thought I’d come rescue you from the starting paperwork with an offer of lunch.” Sam glanced at the computer clock in amazement.

“Wow, I had no idea it was 12:30 already. I thought I’d just sit down.”

“Oh this place will do that to you,” Connie said cheerfully as Sam got to his feet. “They put something in the coffee.”

“Oh no,” he said with mock dismay, shaking the empty cup. “I’ve already been infected.”

Connie stared at the small white cup and her smile dropped for a moment. But it was only for a fraction of a second before she was laughing again. “Oh noes! We’ll have to bring that up to HR on our way to lunch.”

They laughed and joked on their way over to the small lunchroom, and Sam felt like he was already at home. The water cooler already looked familiar, and the IT department waved and smiled as he walked by their room. In fact, everything seemed so in place that he barely noticed the ringing in his ears until he was sitting in the lunch room with Connie. Not until it reached ear splitting levels and he felt himself falling forward onto the off-white table. He thought he could see Connie jumping to her feet, and soon he was surrounded by people milling about. And then everything was black.

“Hello Sam…”

“Hello…”

The voice pierced through his unconsciousness, and he found himself slowly blinking to wakefulness. Mr Kinder’s face came into focus before him.

“There you are, welcome back,” he said smiling. Sam struggled to form words.

“What… What happened?” he asked, his tongue feeling too big for his mouth.

“Oh, just a little emergency, nothing to worry about. Doctor’s said it must have been stress related.” His boss sounded reassuring as Sam raised one hand to gently touch his pounding head. His fingers traced the distinctive feeling of stitches and came away sticky and red.

“What-”

“Oh, you bumped your head when you fell. Nothing to worry about at all,” Mr Kinder said with a wide smile. At that moment, Connie came bursting into the room.

“Oh thank goodness you’re alright. I’m so sorry, I was hoping I could get to you first but-”

“Now Connie, don’t you have work to be doing?” Mr Kinder interrupted, and Connie quickly stopped talking.

“Yes sir. I’ll go back to my desk now,” she said, leaving the room. The door swung open and Sam recognized the painting hanging in the hallway as the one that hung over the copier.

He turned back to his new boss. “What was she talking about?”

“Oh, I’m not so sure, you know how women are in a crisis,” he replied dismissively.

“She seemed rather upset,” Sam said. Curious that she was, he was already feeling much better.

“Well, like I was telling you, Sam. Working here, there’s good days, and there’s bad days.” Mr Kinder said, helping Sam out of the bed.

“And what was this?” Sam asked, vaguely remembering something along those lines.

“Today was a good day.”

“Dan, come on buddy, this really has gone on for too long.”

Anne pleaded with Dan, but he barely seemed to hear her as he stood over his masterpiece. It had taken him 2 years, 4 months and 16 days to create, and it was only just now nearing completion.

“Dan, you should really come out with us tonight,” she said, trying a new tactic. “How long have you been sitting in your basement playing with toys?”

“They aren’t toys, Anne,” Dan barely whispered as he leaned over his construction, slipping one more piece into place. “This is what’s going to make me famous.”

“For what, 15 minutes on youtube?” she said, slumping down to sit on the hard wooden steps of the basement.

“You can make a lot of money in 15 minutes of Youtube fame.” Dan was barely talking to her now, reciting the words that had been etched into his brain over the past two years. “Get famous enough and I’ll never have to work again.”

“And then what, Dan? Sharon already left you, half our friends have given up. Even the cat has been missing for 3 days and you barely even tried to look for him.” But if Dan heard her, he made no indication of it, still lost in his intricate world of tiny wooden pieces. Ann sighed. She’d try again tomorrow.

She opened the front door to let herself out, only to be met with a yowling cry. Mischief sat on the front step, cleaning his black and white fur as if to ask what took her so long.

“Oh, there you are!” Anne said, more relieved than she thought was reasonable. She stepped out of the way to let the cat inside.

The cat sauntered inside casually, taking in the house to verify nothing had changed.

“Let me get you some food,” Anne said, loosening her scarf to head to the kitchen. But the cat had other plans, darting for the basement door that she’d left just barely opened. With a gasp, she ran after the cat, reaching the top step just in time to hear the telltale sounds trickle up the stairs and Dan cursing.

As she watched in horror, 6,875,288,101 dominoes began to fall over, one after the other. They travelled up tiny stairs and over tiny bridges. She saw one knock a marble onto a wooden track as another fell into a bucket, triggering another path that ran across a short plank set up like a diving board. She heard what sounded like the opening score to the Phantom of the Opera, and saw that the marble was now running across a tiny xylophone with boards of varying lengths.

Dan made a small noise and her eyes were torn away from the xylophone, focusing back onto the pieces as they headed towards a massive cluster near the centre. She watched as two massive towers of black and white dominoes began to crumble to the ground. As they fell, pieces strategically placed on the top began to swing across the board on thin ropes. They hit two more dominoes placed across a high bridge that began to rain pieces like a waterfall.

As the last one hit the table, it triggered the only part of the display still standing, rows upon rows of dominoes. The uniform white of their tops began to vanish like water, revealing an image of a single rose wrapped through a diamond ring. The pixel point image was so perfect, Anne barely noticed the banner that dropped down behind it, the words “Will You Marry Me?” clearly inscribed on it.

Silence filled the room for several long minutes after it was finished, both of them too spellbound to talk. Finally, Anne let out a small cough.

“Did you… Ah… Did you get any of that on tape?” she asked.

“Nope.” Dan’s answer was definite, almost emotionless. She may as well have asked if he’d watered the plants today.

“Ah…” she trailed off, unsure what to say. “You know that Sharon left you last year, right?”

“Yeah… Had to finish it though, you know?” Anne did not know, but she nodded anyway as Dan talked. “Want to go get some food? I have a craving for Buffalo Wings.”

Anne nodded dumbly as he brushed past her up the stairs. He was locking the door behind them when she spoke again.

“That would have been a really cool youtube video.”

Originally posted on /r/WritingPrompts on Reddit

“Jess, why are you still with that man?” Kathy said, passing Jessica a starbucks cup across the plastic table. Jessica opened the plastic lid carefully, savouring the sweet, chocolaty, coffee aroma that rose up from it. She knew it would be too hot to drink right now, but she could barely help herself. She took a sip from the cardboard cup. Just a tiny one. It seared her tongue so she barely tasted anything, but it was good enough. She hadn’t had her drink in months.

“Oh, Mark isn’t that bad,” she said, wrapping her fingers around the thin cup. The heat cut through the thin, one-size fits all pink gloves, pulling the cold out of her hands.

Kathy snorted. “Jess, everything you’ve told me about that man is bad. What was it he called you last week?”

“A fat cow,” Jess whispered, conscious of the patrons around her. “But he’s right, I haven’t been to the gym in a month and I was eating a-”

“Jess,” Kathy cut her off. “Look at yourself, you weight 110 lbs in your bra. And didn’t you tell me that you hadn’t been to the gym because he cancelled your membership?”

She didn’t know what to say to that. She sipped the triple cream mocha latte instead. It burned her mouth again, but she didn’t care. Mark would have called her stupid for drinking it so quickly. “Why can’t you ever just let it cool?” he’d told her years ago, back when they still went on dates. Now he just made comments on her eating habits when he saw her with Starbucks.

“Jess, listen to me. You have to leave that man,” Kathy was saying, her dark eyes pleading with Jess. She nodded.

It was getting dark when she finally got home. The red glowing numbers over the kitchen stove sent her into a panic in the dark home. It was nearly 7 and she hadn’t made any plans for dinner yet. Quickly, she whipped open the fridge, looking for anything useful. Last night’s pot roast stared up at her. It would have to do, she thought, quickly tossing it into a pan to reheat. A handful of leftover potatoes went into the pan beside it just as the front door opened.

“I’m home, Jessica,” Mark’s voice echoed through the hallway. “What’s for dinner, love?”

“Ahh, leftovers,” she said anxiously, peeking out of the kitchen. She saw Mark’s expression sag in the hallway.

“Oh.” The disappointment in his voice was obvious as he came into the kitchen with one arm behind his back. Jessica quickly turned back to the stove, trying to bring a little more life to the leftovers. There was some rustling on the kitchen table as she started to talk.

“Sorry, the subway was just super slow coming back and then-”

“And then you stopped off at Starbucks again and bought another expensive, fatty drink.” His voice held such certainty that she glanced back. He was staring at the garbage can in the corner, her Starbucks cup still sitting on top of the pile of trash she’d forgotten to take out before she left. She licked her lips nervously, noticing a bouquet of pink daisies sitting on the table.

“Sorry, just Kathy wanted to take me out and it’d been such awhile since we talked-”

“Yeah, I get it.” Mark’s voice dripped with disappointment. “Just I’d had a really rough day at work, and I was really looking forward to coming home to a nice, home-cooked meal from my beautiful wife. I’d even bragged to my coworkers about how lovely it would be. But instead I came home to a cold house and yesterday’s leftovers because my wife wanted to spend my money on an over-priced coffee.”

“Ah..” Jessica bit back the urge to apologize again. “I could… make something else? Maybe order in?”

“No no, it’s fine,” Mark said with a tone that said it really wasn’t. “I think we already wasted enough money today.” He gestured at the flowers on the table. “I even brought you some daisies to say thank you for being such a good wife. Seems silly now.”

Jessica bit her lip. “Thank you.”

“Yeah.” Mark got up, tossing the flowers onto the counter as he headed towards the garbage can. “Guess I’ll just go take out the garbage then. Can’t even relax when I get home.”

The rest of the night passed in steely silence as the pair watched one of Mark’s favourite movies on Jessica’s old couch. It was the last piece of furniture she had here, passed down from her grandmother. The rest of it was shiny new, stuff that Mark had brought in to replace her old stuff. Some of the old furniture had been falling to shreds before he had got his new job, effectively tripling the income Jess had brought in.

The movie passed on but Jessica barely heard it, lost in thought over Kathy’s comments. Mark really wasn’t that bad, she thought as he wrapped an arm around her. He’d brought her flowers, after all, and paid for all their new stuff. All he’d wanted was a clean house and a warm meal. If she hadn’t been out with her friend, she’d have been able to get that all done. Something exploded on the TV and Mark pulled her closer to him, snuggling up to say it was all forgiven.

She didn’t need to leave him.

Cross-posted from /r/WritingPrompts on Reddit

“Hey Jillian, wait up!” I yelled, running down the path after the disappearing yellow raincoat. It vanished into the trees ahead and I slowed to a stop halfway there, already winded. Behind me, I could hear Jillian’s mother giggling.

“36 and already an old man, I see,” she said, jostling the toddler in her arms. “How are you going to keep up with her when she’s staying out all night partying with her friends?”

“By locking her in her bedroom until she’s 25, of course,” I said, panting a little. Ruby just laughed more.

“She’s nearly 8 now, you don’t need to watch her every moment of the day.” She was right of course, but that was my little girl, running off into the forest. If I wasn’t there to keep her safe, who would be? I knew the park was safe, but you never know where the monsters hide.

Ruby pushed Josh into my arms, quickly bundling her deep red hair into a messy bun at the back of her head. “Relax, Ben. The forest is safe, we’re spending some time together, the office will run smoothly without you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

And as Josh pushed his grubby fingers into my hair, I could feel the tension melting out of me. Ruby was right, this was exactly what I wanted.

The alarm clock buzzed loudly at me, an unhappy noise that jerked my dreams away from me. I scrabbled for the sleep button while desperately trying to cling to the dream, but it was too late. I was awake, and it was exam day.

The bathroom floor was cold under my bare toes. I stood there with a mouthful of toothpaste trying to recall the peaceful serenity of the dream. There was something about a little girl and monsters in the forest, but that hardly felt right. The harder I reached, the more reality sunk in. Today was exam day, and I barely remembered the first thing about Economics, let alone the sunk cost fallacy we’d spent the last month on.

I sat down heavily at the kitchen table while the coffee burbled, pouring over the glossy textbook that’d sat at my desk all year. Rhia came down the stairs yawning a few minutes later.

“Ready for your exam today?” she asked, heading to the fridge blurry-eyed. I gave her a dirty look, lifting up the textbook. She at least had the sense to act ashamed. “Ouch. Sorry Ben.”

I grunted as she busied herself behind me. “I thought you were going to study last night.”

“I was,” I muttered. “Then Judy called again.”

“That bitch! Doesn’t she have better things to do with her life?”

I could hear the toaster go down behind me, making me reread my sentence again. “Apparently she thinks I stole her favourite pair of yoga pants or something. Wants me to return them.”

“And what would you do with her yoga pants, exactly? Wear them to school so everyone knows you’re booty-licious?”

I snorted. “No no, I’d give them to that bimbo I’m clearly cheating with.” Rhia’s butter knife went scrap-scrap over a slice of toast behind me. I reread the sentence about sunk cost fallacy again.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll do fine on your exam today,” Rhia said, sliding a plate under my nose. Two slices of toast covered in Nutella stared up at me. “I’ll see you tonight, I need to go review Bio myself.”

I ate the toast gratefully, watching Rhia pulled her deep red hair into a bun as she walked back up the stairs.

Cross-posted from /r/WritingPrompts on Reddit

“Aww, cheer up,” I said, passing a beer to Jordan across the thick wooden table of the Brass Taps. “Everyone screws up at least once in their life.”

Jordan took the beer graciously, taking a deep drink from it before coming up for air. I watched the muscles in his neck work. They looked strong, just like the rest of him.

“Thanks Juls, but not like this they don’t. I just don’t know how I’m going to tell my mom that I’m failing Calculus II again.” He let out a deep sigh, burying his head in his hands. I looked away at the neon beer sign that hung behind him on the wall.

“If she’s anything like my mom, you won’t have much of a choice in that. She’ll ask, and you’ll cave beneath the hopeful look.” My mom really did have a knack of asking about exactly the topics I wish she wouldn’t. Jordan didn’t look any happier, but at least he was glowering at me now over his hands.

“Thanks, but that wasn’t really the part I was worried about,” he said sarcastically. “Besides, your mom can’t possibly be that disappointed in you, you’ve got straight A’s in everything.”

“Except Invert Bio,” I added helpfully.

“Yeah, but fuck Invert Bio, man. Everyone fails at Invert Bio.”

“Not according to my mom. I’m still scared to mention Professor Collins names least we get a repeat of Calc I.”

Jordan laughed. “I still can’t believe your mom called Wiener.”

“He’s such a nice man,” I said in a poor imitation of my mother’s voice. “How dare you blame him.”

Jordan laughed even harder and I joined in with him, more amused by his amusement than anything. But the beer bottle hit the table empty far too soon, and Jordan got up to leave.

“Alright, I better head out before I miss the bus. Time to face the music and all that,” he said, swinging on his red and gold leather jacket.

“Good luck!” I said, toasting him with my near empty bottle. I watched him head out of the pub before downing the last of the beer and heading home myself.

“How was University today? Did you pass that test you had?” My mom’s questioning started before I’d even taken off my jacket.

“Mom, I took that test just yesterday. The prof probably hasn’t even looked at it yet,” I said exasperatedly.

“Fine fine,” She said, whisking my coat out of my hands. “What about that nice girl you were telling me about at school? Did you get a chance to ask her out yet?”

An image of Jordan came to mind, his head in his hands, the neon of the signs and the dim yellow of the pub’s lights playing through his dark hair and making his tanned skin glow. I could feel my cheeks getting warm.

“No… Not yet,” I stammered, rushing to the stairs to my bedroom.

“Well hurry up, I want grandchildren before I’m 60!” my mom teased.

“I have to study!” I called, “Stop bothering me with this.”

I slammed my door a little too hard, flopped a little too heavily onto my bed. Everyone screws up at least once in their life.

Cross-posted from /r/WritingPrompts.