Think of a story. Don’t write about how you’re feeling right now. Think of an event in your life that made you ponder, fret or worry. No, not this event; sitting in front of a computer is not an event. Think of something unsettled and unsettling that you can bring to a resolution right now. It’s not like writing a to-do list, it’s gotta be more about ta-daa-done.
Good. Then write.
I was thinking about …
No, stop, not like that. Make it more like the start of a movie where you are the star. Think of the opening scene.
Good. Now let me just check: you don’t mean this library you’re sitting in right now, do you?
Okay, off you go then.
I was sitting in the library …
No, no, no. Stop, already! You need to hook your reader. You must tie pretty thread, jewels and tiny, coloured feathers around a razor-sharp piece of barbed steel. Your bait must smell delicious and be attached to a claw that snatches and holds on against all force. You must tempt, tease, tantalise and then SNAP!
Go ahead. No time to dilly-dally.
The library was …
The library had Jerimiah by his balls!
Think of the gin traps your great-great-gramps use to set on the spoor paths back in the day for thinning down the wolf pack that’d be taking down his sheep and leaving them, best parts taken and the rest strewn about the field, in clots and bloody strings that were only good for the birds that’d already taken their worm-worth long before dawn and way before the shepherd blinked and yawned having heard nothing but muffled rustlings in the night.
Nice image. I’m licking my lips; tell me more!
Well, imagine one of those razor-barbed traps set and sat, quiet as a coffin on a chair.
A library chair.
No, no, don’t make me read this! But tell me more!!
The chair that Jerimiah was about to slide out from under the desk, mind elsewhere, eyes on that pretty girl across the way, head in his daydreams. And then …
“The library is now closed. Please make your way to the nearest exit immediately!”