IWSG Day, Revisiting How I Started Writing, and 500-word Short Story

es, it's Insecure Writer's Support Group Day again!

I'm not feeling too insecure about my writing at the moment, but I do feel weird for blogging into a void lately. I have simply not had time for real visits and comments, and at this point, I probably won't until I've graduated (maybe next summer!).

I love this month's IWSG Day Question: What was an early experience where you learned that language had power?

I've blogged about my first story before, and my use of the acronym TP, and Tolkien's great, green dragon. I'll repost it below. Actually, that old post (from 2008!) about how I started writing, is quite interesting. I've written so many novels and short stories since then and, as I noted in the post, have "gone all the way" on quite a few of them. Meaning I've edited them fully and sent them out on queries (and even had one published!).

On days when I feel slow, or lazy, or as if the current novel will never be whipped into shape, it's nice to be able to look back on a solid body of work. A good argument for doing even a little each day!

***repost: How I Started Writing***

This is part of a reply I wrote to a new member of the Compuserve Books and Writers Community. I was a Forum newbie only two years ago [2006] - time flies when you're having fun :-)

I've been writing since I was in the first grade. My first stories were about a kid named Aldo and another kid who was friends with a cow who went to the moon. Later on, I wrote short stories that had stickers in place of some strategic words, and a story about a birth in the family, told from the point of view of the kettle on the stove.

I tried writing my first novel when I was in the fourth grade, about a new girl at school. My sister still remembers it and asks whether I've kept it. Kind of like J.R.R. Tolkien's memory of reading a story to one's parents and having them criticise a miniscule aspect of it (his mother had told him he couldn't say "green great dragon" but had to say "great green dragon"), my mother, when she read my story, asked why I was using the acronym TP, and told me that one should try to explain anything that the reader might find confusing (in this case, TP was toilet paper, and the kids were TPing the new girl's house).

So for all intents and purposes I've been writing my whole life and have learned how to do it by: reading; writing; reading some more; and letting others read my writing. I've taken a few creative writing courses here and there, but found they did nothing for my self-esteem and hardly anything for my writing. That being said, I think the type of course one takes is important; learning and sharing on the Compuserve Forum is stimulating and rewarding, whereas the courses I took were geared towards either grades or people who treated writing like an average hobby and weren't serious about it. I'm not sure how to describe the latter without insulting anyone... It was a course I took at the local community centre. It was a group of women - no men - in their fifties (I was about 15 at the time), who kept writing sappy emotional stories for every assignment. I, of course, had very little style at the time, and everything I wrote sounded juvenile by comparison to their long-winded dialogues and purple prose.

Still, any experience can teach you something about writing, though there's no substitute for reading a lot. A few people have a natural gift that doesn't require constant exposure to other books; they can whip up their own tale in no time, with voice and character development intact. The rest of us need to keep reading, to discover new styles, learn about different methods, pick up vocabulary, etc.

Right now, I'm editing my seventh novel, The Face of A Lion. I started it last March or so, and finished it around December - yay!

BUT, and this is thanks to the Forum, this is the first time I'm Going All The Way. All of my other novels, wtih the exception of one, are barely worth salvaging, and this is the first book that I'm taking through the editing ringer, in the hope that I will soon be querying for agents with it...

***end***

10 years on, the latest bit of writing, all wrapped up, is the 500 word short story I wrote as part of the forum exercise for this month, based on the prompt words we were issued each week. It's a very condensed version (perhaps I could use it as a blurb?) of The Handful of Time:

Week 1: Intro of setting/characters/inciting incident
Week 1 prompts: amber, doctor, evacuation, killjoy, daisy, proof (used all but killjoy)
Note: 110 words. This leaves me 90 for next week.
***
Christianne came out of her doctor’s office to find Rory waiting. The place had a sad assortment of mismatched furniture, amber leather and blue plastic; he was perched on a red stool, scanning the proof copy of a medical journal.
"Let's get out of here," she muttered the instant he caught her eye.
They fled down the corridors as quickly as though given an evacuation order.
The exit was covered in fundraising posters. She slapped a hand on a stylised daisy and flung the door open, but wasn't shot of the hospital yet. She had to be back through those doors and past those hideous chairs in just two days.

***
Week 2: Act I - Rising action, development of conflict
Week 2 prompts: constant, movement, captive, infinite, common, flaming (used all)
Note: 100 words. Still owe myself 10.
***
The desire was a constant; not even infinite movement kept it at bay.
Over lunch, she reviewed all the evidence that would turn her suspect into a captive. When her chief ordered drinks, it was easy to acquiesce. An entire week without a drop. What did a glass of wine -- or two -- matter with the operation looming?
"This cancer is common," her doctor'd said. As if sharing her plight with countless others gave better odds on survival.
Her phone lit up. Rory's photo on screen was a flaming brand. Accusing. He'd no right.
She poured a third glass.

***
Week 3: Act II - Twists and reversals
Week 3 prompts: weird, blonde, amazement, elbow, gritty, diplomacy (used all)
Note: 99 words. Still owe myself 9.
***
She staggered outside. Weird, it'd been daylight when she'd entered the pub.
One last clue to find. The Chief'd stare in amazement.
Here came the tram. Slowing down.
She wove around a blonde-haired woman. Her elbow hit the tram, and down she crumpled.
The sidewalk was gritty. Blood on her palm. The blonde helped her up, panicky.
She exuded diplomacy, thanked her, stumbled off before a crowd could gather.
Deja-vu. She’d been this far gone before. Too often.
The tram clanged its bell, moved on. An ad for croissants on its side. Homey. Safe.
It was time to stop.

***
Week 4: Act III - Climax and resolution
Week 4 prompts: invitation, lantern, twisted, grainy, falls, greedy (used all)
Note: 99 words. Still owe myself 8.
***
She called Rory. He left work, and tried to coax her home, but she must get that clue.
She'd just gained access to the storage locker, when her suspect entered.
He was too greedy. She trapped him with words, and he sang. When he realised his mistake, he assaulted her. Backup arrived in the nick of time.
'Til today, she would've recovered with a drink, grainy
and strong -- but enough with falls and twisted excuses.
Now she had Rory. Instead of drowning solo, she celebrated as a twosome. A lantern-lit table, laughter, and brief touches -- each one an invitation.

***
Week 5: Denouement
Week 5 prompts: sabotage, even, cryptic, blow, imprint, project (used all)
Note: 91 words; all caught up (with 1 spare)!
***
133 days, and she'd managed not to sabotage her sobriety.
Good news helped.
"I'll project it on-screen." Her oncologist pointed. "The area remains clear. Follow-ups can now be annual."
She'd expected a blow, but it'd been deflected.
After fighting so long, reprieve put her off-kilter. "Do I even deserve this?" she asked Rory that night. "And don't be cryptic."
His fingertips grazed her arm, feather-light, leaving no imprint, save for the thrills coursing in their wake. "Of course you deserve hope, lovey. But maybe I can better prove it without words..."

Being me, I made a playlist for the exercise:

Do you enjoy writing from prompts?

What's the shortest complete story you've written?