Books exist that relate the basics of writing stories: how to create plots that follow specific beats and pacing, how to develop characters and throw continual problems at them, how to use settings to enhance your story. But, all this does not tell you how to do the complex part—create a concrete story from abstract creative ideas. When the creative thoughts first come to me, the words to express these thoughts are a little hard to grasp. They slip through my mind like trying to grab a fish swimming in the creek. 

I close my eyes and imagine a visual in my mind, something I can describe. This same technique often shows up at writing workshops to help participants grasp their creativity. Show the eager writers a few intriguing images. For some that is enough to launch them into penning (or typing)  a few interesting paragraphs that will lead to more words and hopefully a creative breakthrough.

However, after the first few hundred words or so, I reach a block and it’s hard to push on. I’ve learned to use prompts to produce more by considering my personal experiences with the pictured item, an incident that will fit into a current works in progress, and the opposite of what the reader might expect. For example, the prompt is a knife with a drop of blood on the tip. 

“Her father handed her the stranger’s cloak. She pulled it around her and the fabric clung with warmth. But, something hard and unyielding hid inside the cloak. She reached through the outside pockets—nothing there. She felt the inside lining until her hand breached a slit in a seam. Under the lining she found an inside pocket, which she searched until her fingers touched leather—a long slender case. She gazed around to assure herself that no one was watching and pulled out the leather case. The stamped design of a floral vine coiled around it. She slid out a slender blade that gleamed with a reflection of the dying fire. She slid her finger along the blade, until it reached the edge and a drop of blood oozed out. A finer weapon she had never seen. Her father didn’t need to know about it. She hid the knife and case beneath her blanket and called to him. “The air is cold. The man will need this cloak to stay warm. I have my blanket, so give it back to him.”

I do not consider what danger the knife can bring, but what is the unexpected opposite. The knife becomes an item of prestige, secretly discovered in the confiscated possessions of a strange man who had stumbled into their tiny village. Appreciation of this weapon leads the young woman to kindness—the opposite of what I would have written if I had not refused to follow the typical impact of a knife dripping blood. 

Photo by J.W. Listman