7 Ways to Write Your Own Wild Story

Creative writing prompts, upcoming classes, and a reminder that you're alive.

1. Go for a walk. I’m serious. Leave your phone at home. Let the sleet drip down your jacket. Notice the bright green buds, the crocuses pushing through, the robins taking up residence in the eaves. Press two fingers against your neck, feel your heart. Being a body in the world is all there’s ever been to make art about. 

2. Listen. To yourself, I mean. What secret are you keeping from yourself that you most need to hear? Say the hard thing, the honest thing, quietly at first if you need to, but say it. Write it on a napkin. Write it on your hand. Whisper it to your dog. Ask yourself, what if this is only a big deal in my head? Ask, how can I let this be easy? And then let it. Or don’t. Some things aren’t supposed to be easy. But hey, you’ve already said it. No take-backsies. 

3. When was the last time you did something that scared you? 

4. Pick one that feels hot and finish the sentence:

   
   My hands have…

   Sometimes I dream about…

   I knew I was in trouble when…

   When I look back, I want to remember…

   Ghosts are…

5. Feed your curiosity. For the writers out there, I'm teaching two classes this spring, beginning on April 18: an advanced nonfiction character intensive with Hugo House that addresses the complex problem of bringing nonfiction characters to life; and a personal essay class with Maine Media Workshops in which you’ll turn a personal story into an artful essay for publication. I also offer one-on-one creative coaching sessions (students who sign up for either class between now and April 10th get a free 30-minute session!). More information is available on my website.

6. Read poetry. (Happy poetry month!) Here’s one by Ada Limón, from The Hurting Kind:

Give Me This

I thought it was the neighbor’s cat back
to clean the clock of the fledgling robins low
in their nest stuck in the dense hedge by the house
but what came was much stranger, a liquidity
moving all muscle and bristle. A groundhog
slippery and waddle thieving my tomatoes still
green in the morning’s shade. I watched her
munch and stand on her haunches taking such
pleasure in the watery bites. Why am I not allowed
delight? A stranger writes to request my thoughts
on suffering. Barbed wire pulled out of the mouth,
as if demanding that I kneel to the trap of coiled
spikes used in warfare and fencing. Instead,
I watch the groundhog closer and a sound escapes
me, a small spasm of joy I did not imagine
when I woke. She is a funny creature and earnest,
and she is doing what she can to survive.

7. Accountability. We all need a creative community who will hold our dreams tenderly. How are you living your own wild story? Drop a comment below and tell us! Share what you’re working on, big themes and burning questions, hopes, challenges, links to your work. Name something you’ve been wanting to name. Any medium, any passion. We want to hear about it.

   

   Maine’s 100 Mile Wilderness

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It’s been four months of Wild Story! Four months of finger-painting on the line between creative writing and the outdoors, of showing up with no map and creating something off-the-cuff and real for you, every time. It’s been a thrill and a joy.

Last month, I made the decision to turn off paid subscriptions for the time being, while I watch to see how/if Substack will get its act together around moderating hateful rhetoric. I believe in this, and it also means taking a financial hit.

I am asking this of you: help me take that value and give it back to Wild Story in a different way. One of my hopes on the edge of submitting my adventure memoir to publishers is to prove to literary gatekeepers that there are a whole lot of wildhearted people out there who believe in the importance of nurturing wild places inside and out, in the radical act of deepening into a creative life, in living life like you’re alive. If you’ve felt moved by what you’ve read, it would be the biggest gift to me if you’d link to Wild Story on social media, send it to your friends, share it. My plan (though it feels like a misguided one, at times, in this weird world) is to keep shooting from the heart and trust my words will find their way to the right people. Help me find the wildhearted ones.

Here are a few highlights from Wild Story’s first four months in the world:

The Crowd Favorite: Alpine Start
The Strangest Life Advice: Keeping Time
The Scariest One to Write: Voice Lessons

Thank you for walking with me.