Seventh Sanctum The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest Suggestions for 10-Minute Writing Exercises Sometimes you wake up and the creative wellsprings are dribbley and dry. Sometimes your project (if you currently have one) feels as appealing as the sweaty insoles of your old gym shoes. You could put your feet back in there, but yuck. Okay, then. And some are courtesy old Dribbley-and-Dry me. Suggestions for 10-Minute Writing Exercises Write three 3-minute stories (use a timer, starting exactly when the timer starts and stopping exactly when the timer stops). Write about the time you were most frightened. Choose any two of the following lines. "Me," she thought, "pick me." Choose a different color each day. Try writing right when you wake up, without getting out of bed, without talking to anyone or reading anything. What’s the worst job you can think of? Write a list of seven words you like. Choose a corner of any room in your house or apartment. What is your favorite flavor? Go to a Chinese restaurant and eat a wonderful meal.
Writers Resources First 50 Words – Writing Prompts for Writing Practice Free Poetry Contests: Poets, Poems, Children's Poetry, Teens The Bald Truth About Writing The Archives of The Diogenes Club I’m Not Scared of My Novel Thanks to Alex J. Cavanaugh for organizing and hosting the Insecure Writers Support Group every month. Go to his blog to see the other participants, and understand what the group is all about (well, we writers basically get together and support each other through our posts and comments). Here’s my post for the support group: For the last week, I’ve written zero words on my #WIP. Zip.Nada. Yesterday, I wrote about a 100 words. I know what happens next, so that’s not the issue. Or maybe that’s where the problem lies—I know what my characters are about to do next. A to Z Stories of Life and Death I know I now have to write about the sort of thing that would make me extremely squeamish and horrified in real life– and my way of writing is to be it, be the character and write what comes—and at this point in the novel, I’m terrified to be the character. And I’ve got confirmation from very good quarters (Anton Chekov, no less) that it is the right thing to do: Wish me luck, people. Like this: