5 Writing Exercises to Turn Up Your Inner Kid Lit Voice
Can you remember the silliness, the wild abandon, the magic of childhood? That sheer curiosity, mixed with a little bit of confusion, rich for inner story telling?
Tip:
Scroll straight on down to the subhead “5 Writing Prompts to Enter a Child’s State of Mind” if want to get straight to the exercises and skip my silly stories about my own childhood story telling mix-ups.
I probably shouldn’t admit to what I’m about to share with you, but as a child — and let’s be honest, even as an adult — I didn’t very much like to ask questions about things that I didn’t understand.
To this day, I hear women joke about men who won’t ask for directions and giggle a little inside at my inner voice shouting out, “Hey! Hey! That’s me too! … Oh wait, is that supposed to be a bad thing?” Call me crazy, but I find a special satisfaction in finding my own way. And the adventures that ensue when I get lost are always unexpected and fascinating. I’ve discovered many interesting things in life simply by taking a wrong turn. (I will note that I do love maps, and have grown fond of GPS.)
So, absent the appropriate questions courtesy of my aversion to asking for clarification, and present a very literal but seemingly logical mind, I made it through first sixteen-or-so years of my life believing two completely untrue things.
Please, don’t laugh too heartily at my expense.
I Believed…
- Artichokes were small furry mammals, raised and butchered only for humans to put their tiny little hearts on pizzas.
How utterly disturbing that the people sharing my dinner table could be so callous as to order them in my presence. Didn’t they know these animals deserved better? (When my parents and younger sister finally discovered — out of the mouth of a licensed teenager nonetheless — why I was so adamantly against artichoke hearts, I have no doubt the neighbors five blocks away could hear their howling laughter.)
2. “Do Not Pass” road signs were hideously misleading rectangular white signs absent-mindedly installed by well-meaning, but ultimately errant historians and government workers.
Growing up in Oregon, I knew: 1) the mountain passes were quite dangerous for pioneers along the Oregon Trail in the 1800s, and 2) the “Do Not Pass” signs generally appeared on mountain roads. (Of course, the signs looked awfully modern, too modern to be real relics from the days of horse-drawn carriages, and of course there had been no road in the days of the Oregon Trail, which must have made forging ahead even more dangerous.) Thus, apparently, the state had installed the signs all along the highways as historical markers, a nod to our Western-bound heritage, a memory of a time when carriages were stopped at various points to wait out the dangers of falling rocks, ice, wild beasts, and the like.
This, of course, was utterly confusing and maddening to me. I would cringe every time we drove past one of the signs, not understanding how the government could put up a rule (“Do Not Pass”) that wasn’t really a rule anymore. It looked so official, and yet it couldn’t be relevant anymore.
This intersection of history and road rules had to stop!
I knew that my parents weren’t breaking any laws, but still, I feared a cop car was lurking just around every corner, waiting to pull them over and accuse them of driving past the sign that clearly stated, “Do Not Pass.”
I believe it was studying the signs for my learner’s permit at age fifteen that I finally figure out my fallacy and understood that it actually meant: don’t pass another car here — it’s not safe. It did not mean, as I had believed: stop at this sign and never move forward again.
Yes, Silly Me
Why would I admit such ridiculous beliefs? Well, I’m actually questioning my own sanity in sharing them with you right about now, but … I admit them because they weren’t ridiculous for a long time. In my child self’s brain, they were as real and true as anything could be. And that is what you need to tap into when you write for children.
What matters isn’t that the children’s story that you write makes adult sense; it matters that the story makes child sense. And child sense is filled with magic and faulty logic, blind loyalty and budding curiosity.
The following five exercises will help you tap into that children’s voice. A bit of rhyme, a bit of laughter, and a lot of fun.
5 Writing Prompts to Enter a Child’s State of Mind
- Write your own tongue twister. Because what gets more giggles than saying, “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers…” ten times fast? Bonus points for memorizing it and sharing with someone.
- Write a new knock knock joke. It’s the only thing that might actually get more giggles than a tongue twister. (No fair reusing those poor oranges and bananas. Think outside the standard knock knock box.)
- Tap into your inner leprechaun and write a limerick. It’s poetry, story-telling, laughter, rhythm and rhyme, all in a teensy little five-line package. This could very well be the origin of the Irish gift of gab.
- Invent your own special super power. Write down what it is, and how you might get yourself in or out of a bit of a bind by using it. Try to be creative, and see if you can invent a power that no one’s ever thought of before. Harness the magic and imagination!
- Create a city that is made entirely of something unexpected. Marshmallow skyscrapers? Check. Pudding ponds? Yep, got those too. Sparkly rainbow-throwing crystalline flowers? Sure, why not? Your city could be anything you want it to be — futuristic, post-apocalyptic, cartoonish, fantastical. Bonus points for doodling a small sketch alongside your description.
So go on. Grab a pen, and write!
Bonus: These exercises are also great for kids on summer break! So parents, don’t keep them to yourselves. Get your kids their own summer notebooks, and encourage them to write along with you. Their teachers will appreciate it come September!
Want to Know More?
Visit us online at cbw-la.org, like our Facebook page, or chat with us on Twitter.
For teachers, students, literary lovers and aspiring writers: We also publish the Story Sprouts series, a writer’s-resource-meets-creative-writing-anthology, fiction-meets-nonfiction, genre-mash-up gem of a book, complete with even more writing prompts, lessons and exercises and a bevy of new authors’ work. Grab Volume I or Volume II: Voice on Amazon. Volume III: Setting will be released in October 2015.
Even better? If you’re in the L.A. area, join us for a workshop or critique session! In this digital age, we still believe there’s nothing quite like connecting with a real person in real life. Heck, we’ll even let you tease us and call us old-fashioned.
About the Author
Alana Garrigues is the Publications Director for CBW–LA and a freelance writer and editor.
