An exploration and one for you, this week and going forward
The first time I heard someone use another term for ‘writing prompt’ I felt my body sort of straighten up, curious.
What’s this? I thought.
The truth is I’ve never liked the word ‘prompt’ used in the context of writing
First of all, there’s how it sounds. Prompt. The weight of its single syllable. The heavy ‘mpt’ at the end, and the harshness of those two p’s. You have to almost press the word out of your mouth.
It’s a push. A prod. A poke.
And that’s not how I want to feel when I’m writing.
And then there’s the energy of its definitions.
According to readings from the Cambridge and Merriam Webster dictionaries, prompt can mean ‘to make something happen.’ As in to cause or incite. The latest act of wanton lawlessness from the president prompted protests and calls for impeachment. The suspicious nature of the fire at the local bakery prompted an inquiry from the state Fire Marshall.
Here it feels both simplistic (straightforward cause and effect) and newspaperish.
Another definition of prompt is ‘to help someone remember what they were going to say or do.’ As in cue or remind. Here the word has an element of negligence (The actor, despite having just won the Tony had to be prompted for his line) or reticence (The young child, now sitting down in the principal’s office, had to be prompted to retell the story.)
And then there are these definitions of prompt: ‘give an instruction to artificial intelligence using natural language rather than computer language.’ ChatGPT can be prompted to suggest harmful or illegal activities with astonishing ease. Or as a noun: ‘a sign from the computer that shows it is ready to receive your instructions.’ As in waiting for input. Type your password in when you see the prompt.
Here prompt feels cold and formulaic, and it also points to the increasingly problematic association with creative writing and artificial intelligence.
Prompt also means ‘done quickly and without delay.’ She arrived at the office at 8:00 a.m. prompt. The agency sent another insincere yet prompt reply to my request.
Fast or instantaneous. Prescribed or programmed. Careless or reluctant. Oversimplified or journalistic.
Not the energies I want in creative writing, at all.
Evidently others agree with me
A few years ago, the wonderfully creative team at Corporeal Writing introduced their version of writing prompts, calling them portals.
Oooh, I loved it! Portals have all kinds of magic associated with them. Stepping through a gateway into another world. I imagined fields both surreal and sorcerous. I pictured time travel and transformation.
When you engage with your writing in this way, you have the potential to be transported into another realm of being – with yourself, with the page, with your story. All kinds of unique bewitching words and ways of expressing yourself become possible.
So, I experimented with using that word for a while.
And although their portals are enchanting to write with, when I tried using the word myself, it didn’t quite fit. Like putting on a gorgeous gown, with an elaborate head piece, it felt captivating and full of promise, and it just wasn’t me.
I went back to using prompts for a while, and then tried out a few other terms, but nothing quite captured what I was looking for, until I found and settled on another term—invitation. I may’ve encountered it before on my writing journey, but I no longer remember exactly where or in what context.
Writing invitations
I like the sound, the meaning, and the possibility that this invokes. Writing invitations as possible ways for you to write your way into memory and imagination.
The word itself skips lightly over four syllables, the openness of the v and the softening of the t’s. It has an element of unknown. Invitations can be casual (a quick text join us for drinks) or formal (we request the pleasure of your attendance scripted on cardstock) and everything in between. A party, a dinner, an outing…all can lead to so many different outcomes.
And an invitation is just that – it’s a beckoning, an encouragement. It’s a welcoming. It’s an including.
It’s a call, and it’s an ask. And it’s always up to you to answer or not. Yes or no. Or maybe. Or not today, and in a while. Oh gosh, yes!
I love that the invitation in writing invitation begins with “in,” which is exactly where I hope the writing takes you.
All this to say, I’m going to start sharing a writing invitation with you each week along with my blog posts. You’ll find this week’s (and future ones) below. I hope you read this week’s invitation and that you find a few minutes to sit down (even 10 minutes) and answer the invite.
I think you might be surprised, but even if you aren’t, I know you’ll enjoy a few minutes alone with your pen, the page, and possibility. I few minutes – you and your writing.
What invitation do you want to say yes to this week?
If you’re interested in receiving more writing invitations and having a place to write on a more consistent basis, you can find a new one every day and the space to see where it takes you in my daily co-writing sessions, which are just one part of the Online Writers’ Studio for women.
Otherwise, come back next week, and I’ll share another one.
Writing Invitation
I invite you to open your notebook and answer this week's writing invitation with whatever wants to come through.
