Practice your craft with throw-away work
It’s liberating. It’s easy. It’s going to pay dividends.
You don’t have to care.
Let me say that again. You don’t actually have to care about what you’re working on. So many times I am debilitated by caring far too much about what I’m writing, how it will be received, who it may offend, and so on. This is particularly true when I’m writing fiction; I don’t know why. The truth is, none of that matters until you publish.
Production does not equal publication.
Some of my favorite writing is careless and whimsical.
“I’m going to write a scene wherein a girl goes to a bar hunting for a one-night-stand. Her external goal is sex. Her internal motivation is filling a void left by a recent divorce, or maybe she plans to kill the partner, who cares!” he told himself, feeling the onset of his latent, maniacal god complex.
Take that idea. For real, I want you to steal it.
Establish her decision to go out (beginning). Illustrate the awkward greeting. Show the other character’s surprise at finding such a willing partner (middle). Paint the aftermath. The walk of shame the next morning or the mess of bloody sheets where she slept soundly all night beside her victim (end).
