I am not a fan of New Year’s resolutions. I cannot think of a single time that my life changed significantly because of me following through on a resolution, and in fact, it seems that most of my attempts at resolutions have sent me backward on my goals. 
 
What has worked for me is to decide on a small goal, meet it, then commit to another small goal and meet that. When I have followed the path of tiny goals, I have been much more successful than I ever was with resolutions.

Now, I understand that setting a small goal might feel like the same thing as making a resolution, but I would argue otherwise. When I set a resolution, it’s usually because some part of my personality, habits, or behaviors is driving me crazy and I want to overcome that by changing several patterns at once. Overnight, I’m supposed to eat better, exercise more, wake up earlier, and be more productive. But the reality is that I never do that because it’s too much all at once. I can’t focus on battling my middle-aged body and try to figure out how to get to the gym six days a week (in the snow no less) with kids, the house, the job, and so many life complications. 
 
What works for me is to attempt a teeny-tiny goal, meet it, and then set another one. One example of when this worked well was the Inktober activity. In October of this year, I joined Inktober, where writers and artists create a single piece each day based on a one-word prompt. For the first week, I wrote a haiku poem (a haiku is a poem with three lines with syllables of 5-7-5). This activity only took me three to five minutes a day. The goal was tiny and I felt successful quickly. 

After writing a haiku poem for the first week, my confidence was up. So, I wrote a 50-word short story for the next two weeks. Each day, I would sit down and write a short story, which was usually closer to 100 words. I’d cut it down to 50 words, post it on Instagram, and move on with my day. 
 
For the last week in October, I created a series story. Each day, I used the daily prompt and continued the story that I wrote the day before. The process was interesting, because I couldn’t go with a totally new idea because I needed to string several prompts together. 

Inktober forced me to write every day for a month. Although I would love to say that I write every day all the time, I don’t. I write a few times a week and usually set aside one morning to write for a couple of hours straight. The problem isn’t that I lack the discipline to write every day; I lack the opportunity. Between work, kids, family, pets, and taking care of myself, I can’t make daily writing work. Yet, incredibly, I wrote every day in October for the Inktober project. 
 
When I set a tiny goal (write a haiku poem, write a 50-word story), I was able to do what usually feels impossible. I was able to write for 31 days in a row. The outcome was exhilarating and I kept writing every day through November. In fact, the momentum generated in October got me through the rough draft of my next book, which I expected would take another two months to accomplish. 

So, if you’re like me, skip the resolutions. If they don’t help you, then don’t bother with them. Instead, consider taking on a small goal, meeting it, and then another small goal.

Would you like some help doing this?

This January, I plan to write a small piece each day. The prompts I’m following are listed below.  If this sounds like fun, you’re certainly welcome to join me. 
​

January Daily Writing Prompts

Each day, write a haiku poem, a free verse poem, a 50-word story, a 100-word story, or one paragraph (description of character, setting, plot, or scene) based on the prompt. Feel free to interpret the prompts in any way you choose.

For the last few years, I’ve taught writing workshops to adults in memoir writing and short stories. Most of my students are new to creative writing and come in feeling intimidated about being judged or expected to achieve more than they feel capable of managing in a weekend workshop. As I listen to people’s concerns, I’ve heard consistently that writers have a hard time putting the first words on the page. 
 
It seems like those first words are particularly intimidating, but once they are down, the rest of the story flows pretty well. When teaching essay, article, and blog writing, I recommend that my students write the middle portion first, then the introduction. It lessens the expectation that writers put on themselves to be perfect the first time around. 

When first-time writers are breaking ground with their first stories, whether they are taking on a memoir story of childhood or a fictional short story, those first words can be the hardest. But one of the truisms of creativity--novices borrow but professionals steal—can help take care of that problem. Stealing words from another source is a tool we can use to get our stories started. If you are a first-time writer or if you need a bit of a booster, give this a try. We are going to steal stories from another genre to use in our stories.

Introducing the 6-Word Memoir
 
As the legend goes, a journalist asked Ernest Hemingway to write a story that could make a person cry with just six words. In true Hemingway fashion, he responded with a challenge accepted bravado and wrote the first 6-word memoir. Now, whether or not this story is historically accurate or not is unimportant to me, because it is such a great story. Hemingway's six-word story?
 
For sale: baby shoes, never worn. 
 
When you read that six-word memoir, you get a full sense of the story: it’s a missing childhood, shoes never used, an adult who missed out, or someone who never was a child because they were forced to mature at a young age.   

If we boil down what we want to say in just six words, we have achieved a significant accomplishment. We have communicated a full thought, a full story in a small amount of space. Communicating so precisely with few words is a powerful way to begin a story. Instead of explaining your setting or your character, begin your story with a six-word memoir and start with a bang. 
 
Here are a few more examples to get you thinking:

• Three great kids. One terrible accident. 
• Hard work. Low pay. Still nothing. 
• Who was counting the calories anyway?
• I didn’t think this would happen.

 
With each of these six-word memoirs, you can imagine the story that could unfold from them. From “Three great kids. One terrible accident,” the reader is instantly intrigued and wants to find out what happened. What was the accident? Was there an accident to one of the children? What happened? When you introduce a scenario that causes your reader to ask questions about what is going on, you have the reader hooked. 

How about the second example? “Hard work. Low pay. Still nothing.” After reading that line, the reader knows they will come across a story of struggle with little reward. Struggle is a classic theme in memoirs, so this kind of story can pull your reader into your story right away. The reader will hope for a happier ending and will be intrigued to know what happens in this unfolding tale. 
 
Another example is “Who was counting the calories anyway?” I imagine this as the first line of a chef’s memoir. After reading this six-word memoir, the reader will expect a story about the joy and pleasure of food, rather than the tedious monotony of counting calories.
 
Finally, the six-word memoir “I didn’t think this would happen” leaves the reader with questions. The reader wants to know what happened. What was the situation? Who was involved? How did things work out? Anytime that you get your reader asking questions about the story, you have them engaged and will keep them reading.

I have seen the six-word memoir used a couple of different ways, which may give writers more ideas for using this tool. You can use it as the first line of a story. Or you can use it as a transition between scenes, themes, or settings in a story. Another idea is to use it as the title of chapters in a book. If you need a way to start your story, try the six-word memoir.
​