On Writing Live Caught
The novel-writing prompt was plucked from an elderly craft guide on my bookshelf, and it went something like this: Don’t think! As quickly as possible, write three opening sentences. Choose the one you like best, then just keep writing!
I couldn’t have pinpointed a more uncreative, uninspiring writing prompt.
But the “Don’t think!” part appealed to me. Why? Because it gave me latitude to fail. Not my fault! I wasn’t even thinking!
If I’ve figured out nothing else, I’ve figured out this: Writers need a safe place to fail.
So I followed the prompt, rapid-fire typing out my three sentences (enjoying every minute!).
Here’s the sentence I chose: Beyond the light of the farm, a coyote skirts the fence line, heads north under the moon’s halo, then circles back.
I rode that sentence for 250+ pages.
Then—no shocker to most writers—I dropped it from the novel.
However, that sentence had done its job. Lenny, my protagonist (failing awkwardly but hopefully toward success), skirts many metaphorical fence lines, only to circle back, time and time again, to figure out what he originally missed.
Just like the coyote, just like Lenny, that’s what I’m trying too.
Love your work, Cathey!