How Can You Start A Story
So, you want to write a story. Awesome! But where do you even begin? It's like staring at a blank canvas. A giant, intimidating blank canvas.
Most people tell you to start with a bang. You know, a dramatic scene. A car chase. A dragon attacking. Or maybe a heartfelt confession.
But let's be honest. That's a lot of pressure. What if you're not feeling the dragon vibe today? What if your characters are just, like, deciding what to have for breakfast?
I have a slightly unpopular opinion. A secret weapon, if you will. You can start a story with the most mundane thing imaginable. Seriously.
Think about it. What do people do all day? They wake up. They drink coffee. They stare at their phones. They trip over things.
And those seemingly boring things? They can be the perfect launching pad for an epic tale. It’s all about how you frame it.
Let’s take the humble act of making toast. Sounds dull, right? But what if your character, let’s call her Agnes, burns her toast?
Now, this isn't just burnt toast. This is the toast that symbolizes everything going wrong. The toast that makes Agnes question her life choices. The toast that, maybe, leads her to discover a hidden talent for arson. (Just kidding… mostly.)
Or consider the dreaded alarm clock. That jarring noise that rips you from your dreams. What if your alarm clock, instead of ringing, played a secret message? A message from a long-lost relative. Or a spy organization.
Suddenly, your morning routine isn't so routine anymore. It’s the start of a grand adventure. All thanks to a slightly faulty alarm clock.
My personal favorite is starting with a really specific, slightly weird observation. Like, "The dust bunnies under the sofa were forming a tiny, organized society." Or, "He noticed that all the squirrels in his neighborhood were wearing tiny hats."
Why is this so good? Because it immediately makes the reader think, "Wait, what?" It sparks curiosity. It’s unexpected. It’s memorable.
It’s like dropping a tiny, intriguing puzzle piece. The reader wants to know how it fits into the bigger picture. They’re already invested.
You don't need a dead body on page one. You don't need a prophecy whispered by an ancient wizard. You just need something that makes people lean in.
Think about the feeling of forgetting where you put your keys. That little jolt of panic. What if that forgotten key wasn't just misplaced? What if it was stolen by a mischievous gnome?
Or what about that awkward conversation you had at the grocery store? The one where you accidentally complimented someone’s questionable fashion sense? That could be the catalyst for a lifelong friendship. Or a bitter rivalry.
The beauty of these "boring" beginnings is that they’re relatable. We’ve all been there. We’ve all had those moments that feel insignificant but somehow stick with us.
So, when you’re staring at that blank page, don’t feel obligated to unleash the literary kraken. Just start somewhere. Anywhere.
Maybe your character is trying to fold a fitted sheet. That, my friends, is a universal struggle. And a perfect place to explore themes of frustration, determination, and the sheer absurdity of fabric.
Or perhaps your character is attempting to assemble IKEA furniture. The instructions are in a foreign language. The parts don't seem to match. This is a recipe for chaos, comedy, and existential dread.
The point is, stories aren't just about the big, dramatic stuff. They're also about the small, everyday moments that shape us. The quiet observations. The slightly irritating noises.
So, next time you’re stuck, try this. Forget the dragons for a minute. Focus on the drip, drip, drip of a leaky faucet.
What is that faucet trying to tell us? Is it a secret code? A rhythmic poem? Or is it just a leaky faucet that needs fixing? The choice, my friend, is yours.
You can start a story with a sigh. A yawn. A sudden craving for pickles.
The world is full of potential story starters. You just have to be willing to see them. To embrace the ordinary. To find the extraordinary in the everyday.
So go forth, my aspiring storytellers! Start with the toast. Start with the keys. Start with the dust bunnies. Just start. Your readers will thank you for it. And who knows, maybe they’ll start noticing the tiny, organized societies under their own sofas.
The most important thing is to get writing. Don't overthink it. Just put words on the page. Even if those words are about burnt toast.
Seriously, though. Burnt toast is a classic. It speaks to the human condition. The imperfect nature of our endeavors.
Think of all the great characters who have dealt with minor inconveniences. Homer Simpson and his donuts. Lucy Ricardo and her elaborate schemes. They didn't start with world-ending threats. They started with relatable problems.
So, when you’re feeling that blank page terror, remember this. The most exciting journey can begin with the simplest step. Even if that step involves accidentally stepping on a rogue Lego brick. Ouch.
And that, my friends, is a story waiting to happen. The universal pain of the Lego brick. The hero’s journey to find the offending toy. The triumph of retrieval.
Don't be afraid to be silly. Don't be afraid to be simple. The most profound stories often have the humblest beginnings.
So, go ahead. Start with the way the light falls through your window. Start with the taste of your morning tea. Start with the peculiar twitch of your neighbor's cat.
The world is your oyster. And sometimes, that oyster just needs a little nudge. A gentle start. A quiet hum. A burnt piece of toast.
Happy writing! Now, if you'll excuse me, I think my coffee is getting cold. That, too, could be the beginning of something.