That silly, minimalist story I published yesterday was a proof of concept and writing exercise to show myself that I can, in fact, writer a linear story with a beginning, middle, and end. I am a bit embarrassed by the largess of this revelation, but the most basic mechanics of storytelling clicked into place in my head during that exercise, and I find myself eyeing the plastic tub of old notebooks and abandoned projects through new eyes and an understanding of how to make all those ideas work
I feel like I just bit into an apple from the Tree of Knowledge, and I want more. I want the skill that this understanding leads to.
Next I intend to throw myself into Ray Bradbury’s most important advice to writers:
“Write a short story every week. It’s not possible to write 52 bad short stories in a row.”
I do believe that in art, repetition is key to developing skill. Skill is what one needs to transmute the conceptual lumps floating about in our minds into real pieces of art, into stories we can give to other people so they can take those concepts into themselves.
I’m going to post the weekly story here, good or bad. I’ll only give myself three rounds of edits. One year of free stories from someone learning to be a writer.