Do you have cool story ideas in your head that you can never seem to bring to the page?
Chances are you’re not lazy, it’s something else.
Let’s go over some tips and tricks to beat it, then try them ourselves!
During the last stream, a subscribers requested that we go over how to write a story if you’re a lazy motherf*cker.
Watch what we did here, or scroll down for highlights.
How to Write a Story When You’re a Lazy Ass Motherf*cker
- There are a lot of people out there who have ideas for stories, but find it difficult to actually write them
- Quite often they think they’re lazy, but I don’t think that’s the case: I think most simply have writing anxiety
- They might think their writing is awful, their stories are boring, or fear what other people will think, before the first draft of the story is even complete
- So today let’s discuss some strategies for dealing with that writing anxiety, many of which I use myself, such as…
…Tricking Yourself into Writing a Story!
- If you’ve tried writing strategies before like cutting off the internet, rewarding yourself with snacks, or screaming “just write!” until you cry into your keyboard, but they didn’t work, then this might be worth a try
- Essentially you avoid the idea of “writing a story” altogether: no outlines, no character arcs, no judgment — just you, your story idea, and some tips/tricks
- -Let’s go over 3 ways to trick yourself into writing
#1. The “I’ll Just…” Method
- For this method, tell yourself “I’ll just try…” plus something SPECIFIC and SMALL, like “I’ll just try writing a sentence” or “I’ll just type a paragraph for fun”
- Then try doing it… and that’s it!
- If you finish and feel like doing more, then tell yourself “I’ll try writing a sentence/paragraph” again
- If you don’t finish or don’t feel like doing more, then do something else
- Feel free to load up on distractions! When you finish writing the sentence/paragraph, watch some YouTube videos, play some games, then come back and “just try writing” another sentence/paragraph and see what happens
- Repeat until you’ve written as much as you want. Before you know it, you’ll have a page or more written down
* I use this method ALL the time, especially when writing these stream outlines. I tell myself “I’ll just brainstorm a bit” and then suddenly I have two pages done.
* I like it because it sucks away stress and pressure like a vacuum, it turns something big/overwhelming into something small and fun
#2. The Journal Method
- Essentially you write down whatever writing problems you’re having: writer’s block, ideas for later, story issues, etc.
- It might sound stupid, but it has big benefits:
- Quite often typing out whatever problem you’re having can make the solution appear right away
- It can also make the problem easier to visualize and solve
- It also makes it easier for your subconscious to keep working on that problem while you plow ahead
- Just like how programmers leave comments in their code, which are super important in figuring things out, you can leave comments to yourself in your writing!
* I use this method all the time when writing novels.
#3. The Font Method
- Just change the font you’re typing with to something silly:
- Papyrus, Ransom Note, Curlz
- Or the king of them all, Comic Sans
- Windings can be a GREAT font to use if you have trouble suppressing your inner editor, since you won’t be able to read what you’ve already written
- Again, it might sound stupid, but putting your writing into a less serious font can help you take it less seriously yourself, and significantly reduce anxiety
* I don’t personally use this method, but I think it’s awesome.
Of course you can mix all 3 methods together!
I Wrote Some Pages, Now What?
- The most important thing is to keep going until you’ve reached the end of the story, resist the urge to go back and edit until then
- Writing in something physical like a notebook can help with this, since it makes it much harder to go back and edit, and it forces a 2nd draft from the notebook to the computer
- When you do edit, use the same methods: tell yourself “I’ll just edit a paragraph,” write down some notes to yourself about how it’s going, and use a silly font, it will all help
- There’s no rush! Whether it takes a week a month or a year, eventually you’ll reach the end, all the notes will be taken care of, and you can turn it into a super serious font like Arial
In Summary!
- These methods to trick yourself might seem stupid or not what “proper” writers do, but there IS no proper way of writing
- Here’s a few real examples from popular authors: Dan Brown likes to hang upside down while writing to concentrate, Dr. Seuss wore silly hats when he wrote, Maya Angelou wrote in hotel rooms with all décor taken away, Lewis Carroll wrote in purple ink, Victor Hugo wrote while naked, and many more
- Having a weird method to trick yourself into writing isn’t weird at all, it puts you in the company of some of the best writers who have ever lived!
After that chat voted on some stories ideas and we used the three methods to trick ourselves into writing a story about it.
Chat voted for these prompts: a dog washes out to sea AND someone finds a box of demonic kittens in an alleyway.
Here’s what we came up with (AFTER using the three methods and editing):
When my dog washed out to sea and it was the worst day of my life. I ran up to the ocean, but the lifeguard blew his whistle and stopped me, saying the current was too strong and dangerous. My vision blurred with tears as I watched Skipper, my best friend of over seven years, who stayed with me through my nasty divorce and the death of my parents, disappear.
The next weeks of my life were a blur. I was just a blob going to work, eating whatever was in the fridge, and crying every time I saw Skipper’s bags of food in the pantry. I didn’t have the heart to throw them out.
As I descended into my darkest personal hell, I found, in the hopeless depths, a box of kittens.
It was just lying there in the alleyway on my walk home from work. There were six of them, mewing and scratching at the box’s walls. I looked around to see where the heartless monster was who had abandoned them, but there was no one in sight. I crouched down to get a better look, and that’s when I first saw something was wrong.
Their eyes were red. Not cute and pink like some albino kittens, but a deep blood red. Then there was their skin. They weren’t quite hairless, they had patches of mismatched fur all over their small bodies as if sewn on there haphazardly.
All six kittens hissed in unison when I touched one of them, batting my finger away with their surprisingly sharp claws.
The poor things. They’d obviously been abused. They had to be a gift from above, a way for the world to show that life goes on even when your dog gets sucked out into the sea. I snatched up the box and brought them home.
As soon as I placed the box on the floor of my apartment living room, the kittens eagerly climbed out and started exploring. Meanwhile, I prepared some food for them, and swung open the pantry door.
For the first time since Skipper’s death, seeing his old kibble bags didn’t make me tear up. I plucked out a package of dried fish, plus some roast chicken and milk from the fridge. I didn’t know if the kittens were old enough for solid food yet, but I figured I could try them all to see which they liked best.
When I set down the plates though, the kittens were missing. I called for them and clicked my tongue, but my apartment looked as cat-less as ever. I started looking around for them, under chairs and behind curtains, places where they might be trying to sharpen their growing claws, but I couldn’t find them.
Until I heard the screech, coming from my bedroom. I ran down the hall to see what had happened.
It wasn’t a cat. It was my printer, screeching and beeping like mad. Two of the kittens were somehow inside of it, chewing on cables, making them spark and smoke.
I yelled and ran over to scoop them out, but then a crash came from the other side of the room. My TV had fallen off my night stand, and behind it were two kittens, standing with their paws out, staring at me with their blood-red eyes as if daring me to question what they’d done.
I was about to scream and throw all the kittens out of my home, until a sharp pain came from my ankle. I reached down, expecting to see one of those other bastard kittens by my feet scratching me, but I was only half right.
The kitten was there, with a steak knife in its mouth, the sharp tip now dripping with my ankle blood. The little monster had shanked me!
Something fell hard onto my head and clamped on. It was the sixth and final kitten, jumping down from the top of my bookshelf, now clasping onto my scalp so hard it felt like its claws were digging into my brain.
“Get the hell off me!” I screamed at it.
“Sorry, Michelle,” the cat spoke, its voice deep and resonant, as if cooked on unholy embers. “But the fun has only just begun.”
I struggled to pull the kitten off my head but it was like trying to tear my own hair out. The other five kittens slowly walked around my feet in unison, painting a pentagram on the carpet with their crimson covered paws. The circle and star began to glow and a burning, rumbling sound came from beneath, steaming up acidic, pungent sulfur.
I tried to escape, but the glow of the seal kept my feet in place. The cats howled and an inhuman roar came from beneath me. These demon cats were sucking me down to hell!
Then came a flash, heat like being pressed against the surface of the sun. I yelled, but nothing came out except silence into the hot void around me. I collapsed to my knees, and everything began to fade away.
It was then that I realized I couldn’t feel the cat digging into my scalp anymore. I reached up to touch, but nothing was there except my hair. Had I died, now condemned to an eternal limbo?
A sound came from nowhere. The last sound I’d ever expected to hear. A bark.
Skipper’s bark.
From the horizon of the void, Skipper came running toward me, and bounded into my arms with his big, fluffy body. He licked me all over, and the whiteness around us sizzled away back to my apartment bedroom, with Skipper still in my arms.
This had to be a dream. I looked around for any sign of being asleep, but stopped when I saw the six kittens sitting on the bed in a row, staring at me.
I shot up to my feet to throw them out, and Skipper started barking at them too. But the kittens just smiled, and one of them spoke.
“We wanted to thank you for your kindness,” it said in its deep, demonic voice.
“Your dog was taken too early, so we brought it back for you,” another said.
“Sorry about the broken machines and blood.”
“But you have to sacrifice something to gain something.”
“And we figured you wouldn’t mind this trade.”
“Enjoy your time together.”
The six kittens vanished in a hiss of smoke, and I had no idea what to think. I turned to Skipper, who was sitting there panting and staring derpily. He was obviously in the same boat of confusion as me.
Although there was one difference. His eyes were deep, blood red.
Be sure to check out the video to see how we used the three methods to trick ourselves into writing this story!
If you want to join us and help write a story by trolling in chat, or share your own writing for feedback, then we’d love to have you join us on Twitch.
And you missed the stream, you can still watch them on the YouTube channel or watch the full stream reruns.
Hope to see you next time, friend!
Featured image: Pakutaso