Many of the writers I work with started off with a bang in September and then their writing slowed down to a mere trickle or stopped altogether. It’s okay and, actually, to be expected given everything going on in the world and in peoples’ lives right now.
For this episode, I wanted to give you something inspiring to reignite your desire to get back to writing, when you are ready. I'm sharing five of my favorite prompts from #AcWriMoments, a writing initiative I participated in during November.
Some are more serious, and some are more whimsical. But they all include strategies and exercises to help you reconnect to yourself and to the deeper purpose of your work. I hope they will fan the flame of desire to help you get back to your own writing after you take a much-deserved break!
Check out Leslie's website at www.YourWordsUnleashed.com
Many of the writers I work with started off with a bang in September and then their writing slowed down to a mere trickle or stopped altogether. It’s okay and, actually, to be expected given everything going on in the world and in peoples’ lives right now.
For this episode, I wanted to give you something inspiring to reignite your desire to get back to writing, when you are ready. I'm sharing five of my favorite prompts from #AcWriMoments, a writing initiative I participated in during November.
Some are more serious, and some are more whimsical. But they all include strategies and exercises to help you reconnect to yourself and to the deeper purpose of your work. I hope they will fan the flame of desire to help you get back to your own writing after you take a much-deserved break!
Check out Leslie's website at www.YourWordsUnleashed.com
YWU Podcast Episode #46
5 Prompts to Reignite Your Writing
Hi there writers!
By the time you hear this, you should all be on a well-deserved winter break.
I hope you are spending precious time with family and good friends and rightfully shelving your work for at least a week.
I myself am in California visiting family for the holidays.
I know that many of you have not been able to get much of your own work done this semester.
It’s been a doozy!
Many of the writers I work with started off with a bang in September and then their writing slowed down to a mere trickle or stopped altogether.
I’m here to say that it’s okay and, actually, to be expected given everything going on in the world and in peoples’ lives right now.
So, for this episode, I wanted to give you something inspiring to reignite your desire to get back to writing, when you are ready.
Some of you know that I was part of #AcWriMoments, a month-long initiative organized by writing coaches Margy Thomas and Helen Sword.
They are fellow coaches with me on the Princeton University Press Supporting Diverse Authors Initiative.
For each day of November, they invited a writing coach, author, or faculty member to submit a writing prompt.
These were meant to spark creativity, reflection, and joy to help you get into the flow of writing.
I thought it would be lovely to share five of my favorite prompts.
Some are more serious, and some are more whimsical.
But they all include strategies and exercises to help you reconnect to yourself and to the deeper purpose of your work.
I hope they will fan the flame of desire to help you get back to your own writing after you take a much-deserved break!
You can find the full transcript of this episode at YourWordsUnleashed.com/46.
5 Writing Prompts that Spark Reflection, Creativity, Experimentation and Delight
Because November has 30 days, there were a total of 30 wonderful and thought-provoking writing prompts.
I am choosing my five favorite ones and giving them in the order in which they arrived.
#1: “Relieve Loneliness Through Writing” by Patricia Goodson, author and professor.
The first one is by author and professor Patricia Goodson, and it’s called “Relieve Loneliness Through Writing.”
I appreciate this one because it draws writers out of isolation and into communion with others. Here it goes:
One of my favorite quotations from C.S. Lewis is this one: “We read to know we’re not alone.”
Here Lewis expresses an important truth: Reading connects us with others who either validate our own experiences or challenge them in ways that, at best, are life-transforming; at worst, make us ponder.
Written text, especially books, can become true companions and, particularly for introverts, can gain the status of faithful friends.
I would add to Lewis’ claim, “We write to know we’re not alone.”
Something about clothing ourselves in words and then offering up our garbed selves to others becomes an invitation, a welcome we extend to readers to validate or challenge us. We authors want to live a witnessed life, an abated solitude.
Our writing can relieve loneliness, not only through its content, but primarily because We wrote it. We wrote it in an invitation posture; as a welcome-to-communion act.
So, here’s a mini-challenge for today.
As you write, think about the ways in which your writing might be a welcome companion to someone; how your words and the narratives you craft can encourage, enlighten, or endorse someone else’s questions or thoughts.
How your ideas, hypotheses, and unveiling of truth can bring hope or promote justice for those whose voices are not heard as often as yours.
Conversely, how your words might unsettle those who need unsettling, challenging them to reconnect with their own, and others’, humanity. Consider how your craft can relieve someone else’s loneliness, and maybe yours as well.
I realize you may be thinking: “But I write about technical matters, science, theory…! Not personal experiences, human nature, fiction…”
Let me counter-argue: even technical writing can provide a sense of companionship to readers who identify with it.
Haven’t you ever been excited about a very “techy” journal article that happened to be precisely what you were looking for at that moment, and reading it filled you with such satisfaction you could burst?
I find it hard to believe that technical/academic writing cannot fulfill this expectation of communion and exchanged pleasure.
Therefore, for today, just humbly ponder the question (perhaps during a few minutes of writing): How might your writing help readers (and you) “know you’re not alone?”
#2: “Remember the Clues from Younger You” by Margy Thomas, founder of ScholarShape
The second prompt is by Margy Thomas, writing coach and founder of ScholarShape.
She offers a playful prompt called “Remember the Clues from Younger You” where you imagine yourself as a child and take guidance from them.
Here it is:
What would Child Me do?
For me, that’s one of the trustiest questions to ask myself anytime I feel truly stuck in work or in life.
My Child Self knows what’s important.
She knows right from wrong. She has my best interests at heart.
And critically, she knows exactly how to make the kind of messes that create space for new possibilities to emerge where previously there were none.
My Child Self is responsible for all the greatest discoveries and insights that my Grown Up Self gets credit for.
How about you? See if you can remember a younger version of yourself today, and listen for the wisdom that little one has for you.
Sit quietly wherever you are right now and think back to who you were at five years old, or eleven, or thirteen, or any prior age that stands out in your memory.
How did you play when you were by yourself?
Were you a fort-in-the-woods kind of child, or were you more into crafting miniature paper and cardboard worlds? What creative visions did you make real?
How did you play with other children?
Did your younger self like producing backyard musicals, or running pretend secret agent missions? How did you create communities and collaborations?
How did you absorb and communicate information?
Which genres of book did you devour for fun, and what topics filled the notes you passed in class? How did you experience and build worlds made out of words?
You don’t have to answer every one of those questions; just turn them over in your mind and see what memories bubble up.
Here’s one question to sum up all the questions above: When the world was new to you, how did you choose to explore, invent, and make believe?
As you think back to your favorite childhood toys and pastimes, notice what threads of continuity you can trace from the activities of Younger You to your present-day life as a scholar.
In your childhood memories lie the earliest traces of your Story-Argument: the body of work you alone can create.
The ways that you played and communicated as a child contain clues about what questions interest you, what you find intrinsically important, and how you engage with the tensions and quandaries of life.
The earlier selves inside you are among your most trustworthy guides in your scholarly work. They show you what questions are worth asking and remind you what frames of mind are most likely to yield answers.
Invite Younger You to sit down with you today and ask, “What questions do you think I should explore in my work? Where, and how, do you think I should look for answers?”
Then listen to what Younger You has to say. And remember, you can invite them back to talk with you again, anytime you want.
#3: “Plan a Journey” with Jane Rosenzweig, director of the Harvard Writing Center
So the third prompt I want to give you was written by Jane Rosenzweig, the director the Harvard Writing Center.
It’s called “Plan a Journey” and offers two ways to help you plan out where you’re going in your writing.
Here goes:
Many years ago, I was fortunate to take a playwriting class with a prolific and well-known British playwright.
After reading the draft of my one-act play, he told me that it read as if I had set out to write Little Red Riding Hood, but the only thing I knew about my play was that it was about a girl in a red cape (!).
While this was not the feedback I wanted to hear, it turned out to be the feedback I needed to hear.
I understood immediately that he was right: I did not know enough about where my characters had been or where they were going to take my audience on a meaningful journey.
That was the moment when I took stock of what I was trying to do in my draft and changed course.
Today, think of your own project as if you were writing Little Red Riding Hood and she is about to set off on a journey.
Do you know where you’re starting and where you hope to end up?
Are you conveying that information to your readers? What do you need to know that you haven’t yet figured out?
You can do this exercise in several ways, depending on where you are in your project.
Option 1: Reverse outline a draft
If you have a draft of your project, try making a reverse outline of what you’ve written so far.
The purpose of a reverse outline is different from the purpose of a regular outline.
Instead of mapping out what you are planning to say, the reverse outline helps you take stock of what you have written and also shows you what you have not yet written.
A reverse outline doesn’t need to be formal.
Go through your manuscript and note the main point you are making in each section or paragraph.
Can you see the progression of your ideas?
Do you know why each paragraph is in your draft?
What questions would readers have if they read this draft?
Option 2: Sketch a journey
If you’re not ready to make a reverse outline, try this instead.
Without looking at your project, write a few paragraphs in the first-person about where you started and where you are now.
Try to answer these questions: What did you think your project was when you started writing?
What do you think now?
How would you explain to a reader where you are going and why—and where you hope to end up?
What questions do you think a reader could have about your project, and how would you answer those questions?
As you take stock of your project, go easy on yourself if you find that you are not quite where you want to be.
We write to discover what we think— to figure out where Little Red Riding Hood is going and why.
It’s only once we figure that out that we can take our readers on the same journey, all the way into the woods and out again.
#4: “Turn Your Self-Judgments Into Writing Mantras” by Yours Truly!
The fourth prompt was written by yours truly! I had to include myself, didn’t I?
It’s called “Turn Your Self-Judgments Into Writing Mantras.”
Out of all the things I could write about, I chose this one because it’s about mindset.
And having an open, curious, and playful mindset is the easiest path to achieving any huge goal. especially writing a book.
You may have heard this before, since I talk about this topic all the time, but it’s always worth revisiting.
Here goes:
When you sit down to write, does your mind bring up a stream of nasty, judgmental thoughts that stop you in your tracks?
It happens to everyone!
I’ve found that the best way to counter these self-judgments is to create positive associations with writing that help you feel good while you’re doing it.
How do you do this? By using writing mantras.
Your thoughts about writing either impede your progress or facilitate it.
Many people believe that if they aren’t extremely hard on themselves, they won’t be as productive.
In reality, the more self-critical you are, the harder it is to get things done.
Mantras are the inverse: beliefs that inspire and motivate your writing on an internal level.
They symbolize your highest intentions and areas you’d like to grow into as a person. Having personal mantras can make the writing process easier and more enjoyable.
Even as adults, our brains are malleable and flexible. We can introduce new thoughts at any point that help, rather than harm, our productivity and well-being.
It’s relatively simple to create mantras that will help you write.
All you need to do is take your most common self-judgments about writing and reframe them with the opposite meaning.
The trick is making sure these new beliefs both feel good AND feel like they’re within the realm of possibility.
Let me give an example. Say you procrastinate a lot and suffer from very negative self-talk.
One potentially debilitating thought might be, “You’re such a slow writer!”
You can reframe this into the mantra of “I’m writing at exactly the right pace” or “I trust my project to unfold at the right pace.”
If you find it hard to embrace a certain mantra, you can also try creating a thought that bridges your self-judgment and your mantra.
For example, if you’re paralyzed by self-doubt, telling yourself “I’m totally confident in my writing abilities” just doesn’t ring true.
So instead, you could try the bridge thought, “I’m open to believing I could be a confident writer.”
Here’s an exercise for you:
Consciously cultivating positive beliefs about writing can help you ease past internal blocks.
They let you “get out of your own way” and can help you become the writer (and person) you’ve always wanted to be.
In the end, all of your self-judgments are just stories you are choosing to believe.
So why not tell yourself more empowering ones?
#5: “Trust When It’s Okay Not to Write” by Michelle Boyd, founder of Inkwell Retreats
The fifth and final prompt I’d like to offer was written by my friend, writing coach Michelle Boyd.
It’s called “Trust When It’s Okay Not to Write.”
I’m including it because I love the idea of being intentional about when we are NOT going to work.
When I was an academic, I would always bring extra articles to read or think I could somehow squeeze some writing into a day spent with family and friends.
Then of course I would feel guilty when that didn’t happen.
This time, I’m not working at all during my two weeks in California.
Because I decided that ahead of time and intentionally, I will resolutely not feel guilty about it.
Here’s Michelle’s prompt:
I’d just opened my laptop when my niece floated in and flopped down on the couch.
She’d been sleeping in my office for a week, which meant I’d been working from my bedroom floor, hunched over my laptop.
This was my first chance to write in an upright position, so I put my hands on the keyboard and hoped she would hear my silent plea: please, please, please don’t start talking to me.
She starts talking to me. “Heyguesswhatyouwannaknowwhatjusthappenedtome?”
I am just about to say that in fact, I don’t, when I actually take in what’s happening: my husband’s at work.
My sister-in-law is running errands.
And I have my 17-year-old, off-to-college-in-a-year niece all to myself.
A private conversation with her—one unmediated by social media or technology—is more precious to me than a few hundred words.
So I close my laptop while she chatters away, zipping from topic to topic like a hummingbird.
When she flounces out the door an hour later, she’s got tiny pieces of my heart in one hand, and all my writing time in the other.
And frankly, I was happy to give her both.
That’s because I’ve clearly defined when It’s OK Not to Write—and this was one of them.
There aren’t many situations like this, and they don’t happen often.
But knowing when it’s OK to break from our writing routine is crucial to a writer’s ability to maintain their discipline overall.
Once we’ve defined when It’s OK Not to Write, we feel less guilty about letting writing go when those instances arise.
Because we’ve already defined our own internal standards, we don’t need as much discussion with ourselves when the moment comes to apply them.
It’s also easier to recognize those sneaky moments that seem like a good reason not to write (email, grading, meetings), but really aren’t.
To be most effective, it helps if your Not Writing criteria follow a couple of guidelines.
First, they have to be right for you.
For example, I’m an insomiac, so it’s OK Not to write When I Haven’t Slept. But if you’re a parent, that likely won’t work for you.
Another thing about Not-Writing criteria? They tend to vary over time (sorry).
So it helps to rethink them every so often.
The beginning of each term is a good time; or when you’re starting / stopping sabbatical.
At those moments it helps to ask yourself: Under what circumstances do I feel It’s OK Not to Write?
Not in general, or for my colleague — but for me, given my priorities, circumstances, and values.
Many scholars mistakenly believe that a strong writing practice requires being rigidly, robotically beholden to a writing routine.
I’m the first to agree that a strong practice requires us to prioritize writing over other parts of life.
But the flip side of that discipline is a shining clarity about its limits—and an ability to walk the thin line between discipline and flexibility.
A scholar with a healthy, productive practice knows how to give themselves to writing.
And they also know how to give it up.
Summing Everything Up
So let’s sum everything up.
I’ve given you 5 very different writing prompts that will hopefully fan the flames of your desire to get back into your work.
There are practical strategies, mindset work, as well as a reminder to be intentional about when it’s important NOT to work.
My best advice is to keep your own expectations of yourself very low and to take pride in doing so.
We always overestimate the amount we’ll be able to achieve over a break.
So give yourself a real, true break and know that the work will always be there.
It’s better for you not to return to it until you’re feeling better on all fronts.
Take care, and happy holidays!