15 minute writing sessions

Inktober 52 + Writing

“Write a short story every week. It’s not possible to write 52 bad short stories in a row.”- Ray Bradbury

I have an idea for a novel that has been eating away at me. I attempted to start writing it, but realized right away that I was in over my head. I read a great article about how beginner writers should start with short stories because it will give them the ability to practice while also feeling the achievement of completion. Not long after reading that article, read more…

Prompt: Invent a word.

“Enter the Chamber.” the large voice charged. Sarah took a deep breath and straightened her spine. She had known this day was coming, but now that it was here, it felt surreal.

She grabbed the hefty door handle. It was ice cold. She began to pull but the door slowly swung open on its own. The chamber was pitch dark, except for the single spotlight in the center of the room. She took a few steps forward, but paused as she heard the huge door swinging closed. There was a soft hiss as it sealed which echoed throughout the chamber.

The room was frigid. She could probably see her breath if only there was enough light.

“Please step into the Lumecriton.” said the voice. Sarah made her way toward the light. Her head began filling with doubt even though everyone had told her she had nothing to worry about. Her entire family, including distant cousins, had made it through The Judgement. “We have solid DNA.” her Mom would always say. But what if she was somehow different.

As soon as she stepped into the light she felt its warmth on her face, much like the sun.

“Sarah Dunn” boomed the voice. “You are here today to seek Judgement.”

‘Seek?’ As if she had a choice.

“We are well aware of your family’s performance, but it will not be relevant here. You are to stand in Judgement, alone.”

‘Let’s just do this thing already.’ she thought.

Prompt: They went to Los Angeles to see his parents.

Micheal stared out the window in awe of the bright lights. “Is this traffic for real?” he asked dumbfounded. Carl just chuckled and kept an eye out for his opportunity to merge.

They both were keeping the conversation pretty light considering the situation. Neither wanted to deliver the bad news, even if it came with the world’s most prestigious award. It was a universe-altering breakthrough, but it had come at an unbearable cost.

“So how long do you think we have til we get there?” asked Micheal.
“Judging by the flashing lights ahead, 2 hours?” Carl guessed.
“OK. Well I’m going to try to get some sleep.”

Carl nodded in agreement. They both knew the next few days would be an exhausting whirlwind of piercing interviews, never ending press conferences, and sweaty-palmed handshakes with the top leaders on the planet. And worst of all, they had to meet his parents.

“Wake me when we’re close?” asked Micheal.
“Sure thing, Boss.” scoffed Carl.
Micheal snickered and said, “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

Micheal stretched out in the back seat and tried to quiet his racing thoughts. What was he going to say? How was he going to say it? If he were in their shoes, how would he want to hear the news? How will they react? He had years of training and a 4 year degree in psychology, but books and classrooms don’t prepare you for this.

15 Minute Writing Session, #1

Since I am a complete noob to writing, I thought creating a daily practice would be a good place to start. Every morning I try to write for 15 minutes using a prompt I pull from a book, 400 Writing Promptsor from somewhere on the interwebs. I will be sharing these daily, unless they tie into a larger story that I want to save for later. Without further ado, here’s my first session.

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Why is this so painful? Putting words on paper is like carving out pieces of one’s soul and smearing them on the page. They’re just words. Why should it matter so much? Oh but it does. Words mean everything.

I have an incessant need to get this story out of my head. I can already see how beautiful of a story it is, but I just don’t know how I am going to fill in all of the blanks. It’s like I have the aftertaste in my mouth, but I never ate the meal.

What if I never figure out how to write this story? It will just remain a shell inside my brain, never given a chance to experience the excitement of quickening pulses, the giddiness of laughter or the heartbreak of tears. I want so badly to bring this to life. I need to breathe air into its lungs.

So what else can I write about? Let’s try the prompt book:

In what ways are you above average?

YIKES. Umm. I’m really good at problem solving. Especially for others. Solving my own problems can be tricky because I have a tendency to be very negative about my own abilities and worth. Why is that? I’ve always been this way. Hating on myself. Beating myself up is a regular pastime. So yeah, even though it’s a negative, I am definitely above average at tearing myself down. I’m a pro at that shit.

So what else… I’m good at taking two unrelated ideas and bringing them together to make something new. I’m good at drawing. I’m good at singing. I’m good at graphic design.

TIME’S UP!