Do you listen to and trust your imagination? Become an improviser with your writing and learn to do so. Say yes to your story idea and don’t block your creativity.
To improvise means to create and perform (music, drama, or verse) spontaneously or without preparation; and to produce or make (something) from whatever is available.
Patricia Ryan Madson’s book Improv Wisdom shows us how to apply the concepts of improvisational theater to deal with real-life challenges. Today, I will look at how the concepts of improv can also apply to how we approach our writing.
If you are planning on writing a novel in thirty days this NaNoWriMo, or if you are taking a year to write your novel, there is something you need to consider besides a basic plot structure. You need to determine your Inciting Incident.
What incident will compel your protagonist to act, prompting them to move through a meaningful story?
Let’s take a look at what an inciting incident is and how to write one.
Jill and Kate were singing “Behind These Hazel Eyes” at a Chinese restaurant in Los Angeles when Kelly Clarkson walked in. They ended up singing as backup singers for her for six years until they stepped out from the back of the stage to the front of the stage, singing their own songs.
I love their sound, and their original lyrics.
I was so curious to know how they wrote their songs—how they do what they do, how they create their music.
Singers are writers. Writers who sing their words. I want to introduce Jill and Kate to you and to share their writing process. It might be helpful to you if you write songs, or would like to write songs.
The world still needs more silly. That’s why we want to invite you to please join us for The Second Annual Wacky Writing Prompt Scavenger Hunt. We will randomly choose three participants to win a new Moleskine notebook, a red Swingline stapler, or a pair of rubber gloves.
You don’t have to have fun if you don’t want to. I don’t even mind if you whine a little bit. I won’t even make you brush your teeth before you start the game. And I won’t make you clean my seven litter boxes.
Still—please have fun. Fun is good. So is pizza.
Our past writing can keep us from writing now. We may feel discouraged and not write if we think our past writing was horrible. Or maybe we think we were brilliant and not write because we feel we can never write that well again. Or maybe we think we are better at being typists for our cats than we are at writing our own stories.
I met a writer last week, Sheila, who destroyed her past writing. She told me she had just shredded everything she ever wrote—journals, poetry, and short stories. I asked her if she still had the shredded paper. I wanted it.