Imagine yourself hiking along an outdoor trail. Your path leads you alongside a peaceful lake. As you walk, you notice the sunlight glint off the water while tiny fish dart through the rippling shallows. Paddling ducks quack to their ducklings. The pine tree-scented breeze is light on your face, and it ruffles your hair. You reach into your knapsack for a handful of GORP (that’s “Good Old Raisins and Peanuts,” a.k.a. trail mix) to chew on as you walk along this scenic trail. Your GORP contains M&M’s (you lucky thing, you!) and you eat them first because, contrary to what we’ve all been taught, they actually can melt in your hand.
There you are, walking, munching, enjoying the view without a care in the world, when suddenly something wet, slimy, and irresistibly strong coils itself around your bare calf muscle and yanks you off your feet. Your GORP falls to the ground, but raisins and M&Ms scarcely matter as you dangle over the surface, staring into the gigantic eyeball of the murky creature just beneath the water that saw you hiking and snacking and decided you would make a nice afternoon snack.
You’ve been hooked. You’ve been snatched. You’re about to be sucked in.
[Have you noticed I have a thing for sea monsters (See Secondhand Charm) and squids (see The Trouble with Squids)? I love slimy squooshy things with tentacles. I never get tired of them. When you get to know an author well, you’ll learn they keep on using their favorite things over and over again, much as cooks do with their favorite ingredients. My mom puts celery in everything.]
This is why I love starting a new writing project. The story starts out light and breezy, all “tra-la-la,” like a walk by the lake, and then suddenly some part of it grabs you. A new idea flashes like lightning. A crazy character takes over the show. The situation changes, and wham, you’re eye to eye with a creepy monster with a ravenous appetite.
But I have to tell you, CFG, sometimes it doesn’t happen. Sometimes I get started with an idea that I think will be *brilliant,* and you know what? The sea monster never appears. The story idea fizzles flat. It doesn’t lead to an amazing adventure. That’s a bummer, but it doesn’t mean I’m no good as a writer. It just means the squid was busy that day. Maybe he’s off on a squid playdate or at a squid doctor’s appointment. You never know.
How are you coming along, CFG, at writing your own stories? Has the sea monster grabbed you by the ankle and dragged you down into its underwater lair of excitement and danger? If so, good for you! Keep writing your way to survival. But if not, I hereby grant you permission to set that idea aside, grab a fresh piece of paper, and try something new. Maybe you’ve got an idea buzzing around in your head like a mosquito. Maybe you don’t; so then you’ll want to repeat the process of brainstorming we practiced when I visited last November to come up with an exciting new idea. All you need is a pencil, paper, and your limitless imagination. To refresh your memories, check out this little video clip:
The moral of the story, my CFG friends, is this: keep on writing, and the squid will find you.
Experienced writers learn to tempt the squid to appear. They do this by plunging their characters into dangerous situations right off the bat. This is like wading into the water, dangling a raw fish right and calling, “Here, Squiddy Squiddy!”
Now, I want you to notice something. Look back at the first paragraph of this post. I was being sneaky when I wrote it. I had an ulterior motive. I wanted to show you some important tricks to make your scenes come alive. I placed you in a fictional scene, hiking along a lake. To make it feel real to you, I filled the scene with sensory details. What do I mean by that? “Sensory” means “relating to the senses.” And what are your five senses? Sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch.
I used all five senses in my scene. Sight: sunlight glinting off the water, fishies darting in the shallows. Hearing: ducks quacking at their ducklings. Smell: pine-tree scented breeze. Taste: raisins, peanuts, and M&Ms melting on your tongue. Touch: a breeze in your face, M&Ms melting in your hand, and, eeew! Slimy tentacles wrapping around your ankles!
I hope those details helped you imagine yourself beside that lake. To suck your readers into your story – wait, you mean you get to be squids, too, CFG? You betcha! – use sensory details. They make your scenes vivid. They help your reader imagine themselves inside your story.
So keep on writing, CFG. Keep on packing your knapsack with snacks and setting off down new trails. Keep hoping the squid will appear, but don’t take it personally when he doesn’t. And when you write, write with all five senses alert, looking, listening, tasting, sensing, and sniffing. (In the interests of your dental health I must advise you to pack celery instead of M&Ms.)
Writing prompts:
1. Just for fun, take a walk around the lake today. Develop a new idea, whether that’s one you’ve been thinking about or one you develop by brainstorming, and start writing.
2. Tempt the squid to appear by making sure to add exciting action and danger to your story early on. “Here, Squiddy Squiddy!”
3. Look at a part of your story you’ve already written. Go through a scene and look for places where you can add sensory details to make moments come alive. Add them!
4. Draw a picture of a squid snatching a character from your story and pulling them under the water.
5. Develop a story idea by combining squids, ducklings, and celery. Please don’t let the squids eat the duckies!
PS – I don’t want anyone to be afraid of squids in lakes really. They’re only found in the ocean, so don’t worry. When I was your age, my older brother told me that Great White sharks could actually swim through the 12-inch deep creek that ran through our backyard, by coming up the Hudson River through Lake Champlain to the St. Lawrence River to the Great Lakes, and I believed him. He owes me big time for all those nightmares.