Sometimes inspiration jumps out at you from everywhere. (Especially at 2:00 in the morning when you’re just trying to sleep, am I right?) But sometimes the inspo well runs frustratingly dry. Storytelling exercises can help you get your mojo back.
The three storytelling exercises I’m about to share are all you need to generate some fascinating stories, or at least spark some ideas. And you can repeat them any time you feel stuck.
3 storytelling exercises to inspire creativity
If you can, I recommend writing the first draft of your story immediately after you finish an exercise. (Sometimes the exercise will be the first draft.) If you finish the exercise without writing, you’re going to lose momentum. It will be much harder to get into the flow again later.
Fortunately, these exercises are evocative enough that you’ll often feel inspired to write immediately. So go get ’em!
1. Adopt a character in the wild
Grab a notebook and pen. Go someplace public, especially someplace eclectic and funky where interesting things are bound to happen. (There’s a coffee place near me called Burial Grounds where the lattes are topped with skull art foam and the drinks have names like F*ck This Sh*t. That works!)
As you sip your drink (or eat your scone, or do whatever), make notes about the “characters” you encounter. Go beyond what they look like and what they’re wearing. Describe their mannerisms, the sound of their voice, and even their drink order.
Now, speculate about who the people you encountered might be. Is the guy in the gabardine suit a spy whose bowtie is really a camera? (Maybe don’t use that one. Simon and Garfunkel already did.) A defense attorney on the way to a big murder trial? A businessman who’s desperate to hide the fact that his business is on the verge of bankruptcy? Or maybe he’s picking up a cup of his lover’s favorite orange spice tea before heading to her funeral.
What stories can you invent based on the characters you were inspired to create?
2. Eavesdrop (in a totally non-creepy way)
When you’re a writer, a little harmless eavesdropping is probably OK, even if it’s not entirely socially acceptable. Quietly listening to other people’s conversations can not only provide story ideas, but this storytelling exercise will also help you get better at writing dialogue.
Quietly listening to other people’s conversations can not only provide story ideas, but this storytelling exercise will also help you get better at writing dialogue.
Again, go someplace public where you can sit quietly with a notebook. A cafe or coffee shop where it’s not at all odd to linger for an hour over a single macchiato is best. (I like coffee, hence the strong coffee theme. Please indulge me.) Once you’re seated with your drink, take out your notebook and start jotting down tidbits of conversation you hear. They don’t even have to be interesting tidbits; you’ll make them interesting later.
When you’re back at your desk (or wherever you write), comb through the snippets of dialogue you captured and find a line that sparks your imagination. Now, write an entire conversation in nothing but dialogue. Don’t add description or dialogue tags — no he said, she said. See if you can tell a complete story using dialogue alone.
This isn’t as easy as it sounds. Your story needs a beginning, middle, and end. Your characters need to feel real. And you’ll have to convey the story through the natural flow of a conversation. When we chat with our friends, they have context. Your reader won’t. How can you use subtle conversation clues to help your reader understand what’s going on without getting into exposition or monologuing?
Although this story does contain more than just dialogue, Hemingway’s short story, “Hills Like White Elephants,” is a masterful example of using dialogue to tell a story without using exposition to fill in the missing context. We learn as we listen in.
3. Explore a “what if”
You don’t have to leave home for this storytelling exercise. Instead, you’ll be exploring the landscape of your inner life through the lens of “what if.”
We’ve all come to a crossroads in our lives. We all make big decisions — some we don’t even recognize as big decisions in the moment — that fundamentally shape our lives. We pick this college major over that one. We date the fascinating and complicated person we have a crush on instead of the steady, uncomplicated person who has a crush on us. We choose to stay close to home instead of taking that exhilarating but terrifying opportunity abroad.
Approach this storytelling exercise from a place of curiosity rather than fear or a need to correct a “mistake.” There are no mistakes, only choices.
Think of a time when you chose one option over another. Consider all of the things that the decision impacted downstream. There will be some huge, easy-to-spot things (like not having the children you have if you’d decided not to marry the person you did) and some that are more subtle but equally impactful (like the theory that you’d have more confidence now if you’d had the courage to strike out on your own.)
Write about what might have happened if you’d gone in another direction. How would you be a different person today? Would you be living in the same place? Doing the same job? It’s impossible to know, but it’s fascinating to speculate.
TIP: Try to avoid the rose-colored glasses perspective. If you made a decision that ultimately feels ill-fated, consider that making the opposite decision might not have worked out any better. All decisions have consequences, and those consequences are never universally positive. So dig in deep and explore every angle to see what you find. Approach the exercise from a place of curiosity rather than fear or a need to correct a “mistake.” There are no mistakes, only choices.
Why do we love stories?
Humans love stories for so many reasons. They entertain us, naturally. But to me, the most significant reason for loving stories is that they reveal who we are.
I remember the day I realized that stories could do more than simply keep me amused. When I was about 12 years old, I read Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time. Huddled under my covers with a flashlight, I found that protagonist Meg Murry was just like me. She was awkward and not popular with her peers. Smart, but not a fan of school. Fiercely loving and rational, but also impatient and sometimes short-tempered.
We love stories that are relatable and revelatory. We love when we see ourselves, or at least parts of ourselves, in the narrative. We love the what-ifs because we can speculate about our own what-ifs.
Stories help us make sense of the world in a way that science, technology, spirituality, and philosophy alone can’t. Stories make us human.
Now, go tell a good one.
