So on Fridays I sometimes attend this writing prompt group in the city. We’re given a prompt, 15 minutes to write, some people read aloud what they wrote, then there’s wine and snacks. After there’s a second round with a new prompt, and those who didn’t read before get a chance to go.
One thing that happens consistently at these is that I write almost twice as much as everyone else, about 400-500 words on average. The reason for this is two-fold, first that I type on a laptop (just to get the basic mechanical reason out of the way), but second is because doing a lot of these kinds of prompts taught me how to get out of my own way.
When you’ve only got 15 minutes to write, you don’t have a lot of time to shoot down your own ideas. You have to pick one and just go with it. For example, one day the prompt was “mirrors”, which made me think of the island of Murano in Venice and how once any apprentice who stole the secret of how to make mirrors would be punished by death. So I wrote a little intro to what could have been a larger historical novel about a Venetian boy who gets apprenticed to one of the mirror-makers on the island in the 16th c.
And y’know what? It wasn’t that bad! In fact, the organizer of the class pulled me aside and asked if I had brought something from outside the class there to read, which would have defeated the purpose of the writing session. I was both angry and flattered. No, I had not written outside class, how would I have possibly known what the prompt was going to be in advance? But I was flattered because the length and quality made him think it couldn’t have possibly been written on the spot.
I told the teacher no, I just like to do prompts like this in my spare time. As my followers here will know, when I feel blocked I’ll sometimes solicit Bagginshield story prompts and write out short fills for those. I usually spend about 20 minutes on the first draft because the point is not to get bogged down.
To this, the teacher responded, “Weird.”
Which, dear reader, actually kinda pissed me the fuck off because this guy was a writing teacher and he called the fact I fill writing prompts for fun “weird” but anyway.
My point is, I never would have written about that Venetian apprentice without the prompt, but I also wouldn’t have written about him, or as many words as I did, if I had second-guessed myself. I was missing dates, facts, I was making basic research errors about the era that a historian would have caught. Without the time limit and the need to get something down, I would have worried about my own authority on the subject, about how my audience would receive the story, about my character, and the biographical details of his life, to the point where I never would have written anything at all.
But you know what? The story was really well received by the group! And most of them didn’t know enough about the era to question the small errors, but just appreciated the story for what it was. All of those issues can be fixed in the second draft anyway, and that kind of “inner editor” worrying is what stops you from writing the draft in the first place. Of course, I don’t always remember this lesson, it’s part of why I’m writing this now, to remind myself.
The lesson though is that you’re actually probably a better storyteller than you realize. You have good instincts. You have worked hard to get to where you are. Just let yourself write the first story that comes to mind. Write it quickly and don’t agonize over every line, put down the most natural line that comes to you as soon as it occurs to you, and the one after that. Write for exactly 15 minutes, so that you’re not giving up too much of your day on a dead-end idea, but rather an exact amount you can control. Don’t worry about the audience, because if it’s not good, you haven’t lost too much time and energy. You can just bury the piece (and if you come back a day later, maybe you’ll discover it’s not nearly as bad as you thought). Do a bunch of these and you’ll not only have a folder full of story ideas you can draw upon for a rainy day, they’ll also have a nice seed of work already completed. And if you don’t come back, you’ll have learned and grown as a writer, free to experiment without worrying about wasted effort.


















