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For example, I wrote a story about my stepson Austin. I wanted to talk about what a great kid he is, but it was hard to find a starting point. So I started my first draft at beginning: "I was born at St. Francis Hospital in Beech Grove, Indiana on May 12, 1962 to Dorothy and Max Carr."
Well, okay, I didn't actually start at that particular beginning. But wanting to educate my readers, I gave all kinds of background information so that they would know where I'm coming from. My chronological list was a boring recitation of facts because I was afraid reader wouldn't "get it" otherwise. All history and little action, no emotion, no dialogue -- if I would have sent manuscript to magazine that way, no readers.
But going through this process always snaps me to my senses when I begin second draft. This time, I let my internal editor out and read through my manuscript and, TA DA, a beginning always arises from it, usually somewhere in middle. So I do a click, block text, right click, cut and get rid of all of text I wrote before my TA DA moment. And ensuing sigh is a sigh of relief and not one of frustration. I don't need all that history to tell story, but writing history helps jog my memory about when, what, where, how and who I do want to write.
If you're having trouble getting started, just sit down and write. When you get to action, dialogue, humor, tears, you've found your great beginning.
As for me, I'm keeping my eye on refrigerator box under overpass at Market Street ramp to downtown Indianapolis. If I ever see it's occupants, I might have to stop and ask my burning question, "were you a writer before you moved here?" But that's another story, and my column on great beginnings is now at end. Happy writing!
Barbara Carr Phillips, journal instructor, believes dreams come true when you learn to journal your way to success. Visit http://journalworkshops.net to order your one-on-one journaling session or to sign up for her free e-zine.