A warm-up is exactly what most would think a warm-up is, doing easier exercises to prepare the muscles for the more strenuous tasks that lay ahead. In this case, I believe writers should write something (that they don't necessarily care about) in order to limber up their brain. I got this idea from one of my writing professors.
The professor, first, writes 500 words in what they call a "junk novel." This is just a random project they don't expect to be published, but they use it to get in that writing mode (*side note: he has published two of his junk novels). After that, the professor writes 500 words on their real writing project.
Everyone should develop a routine that warms up the mind before taking on their big project for the day. It does not even have to be as big as writing an entirely different novel (a "junk novel"). As a matter of fact, I have heard writers who do entire crossword puzzles before writing, or read their favorite selection of poems. Point is, you might find that warming up the brain before writing really helps get the best out of you.
What am I doing for a routine?
This is the beginning of a short story I started writing about a month ago. The thing is, it is the beginning and I have not worked on it for awhile. I have kind of lost interest in it. However, instead of throwing away the story and not finishing it, I will use it to warm up. I may not write 500 words to warm-up, but I will aim for 250 words, 1-page double-spaced. Here is what I have so far...
Mel’s Family Diner, a small metallic building, smelling of bacon grease and black coffee, was almost full at lunch time when Mrs. Rehberg’s third grade class entered. Ten eight-year-olds filed in one-by-one, each chattering amongst themselves, led by Mrs. Rehberg, a fair skinned lady, wearing a blue jean dress with apples, school houses, and rulers stitched sporadically on the denim. Like a shepherd leading a flock of sheep, she walked tall and knew exactly where she was leading her class, they just had to follow. When one of her students, Billy Matthews, strayed from the flock, Mrs. Rehberg stopped, addressed him as Mr. Matthews, and told him to get back in line. He did.
All the regulars, eating at the counter, twisted their necks around or swiveled on their stool to see what all the new commotion was. One man, with the wrinkly face of a pug, murmured something under his breath about those damn kids, and went back to eating his scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. Another man, wearing a green trucker’s cap and a red plaid shirt and sitting next to the pug-face man, grumbled in agreement, raising his coffee mug before taking a sip. The other customers, sitting in the red vinyl booths along the diner windows, kept eating, minding their business.
Mrs. Rehberg led her class to two empty booth seats, in the far right corner of the diner. She stood at the middle of both booths as she expected her kids to file into the seats, one-by-one, and they did.
“I want to you all to remember your manners,” Mrs. Rehberg said once her class was all settled into the booth seats. “That means using your pleases and thank-yous.” She turned around from the waist scanning the diner, searching for her class’s potential waiter. As she looked around the room she stopped for a brief second with her gaze fixed on the far back corner, diagonally across the diner from her class. Mrs. Rehberg’s eyes grew and her face drained of color, and then she quickly snapped back, facing her class again, and standing straighter.
Suzy Landers, a small girl with brown hair styled into two pigtails, cupped her hands around her mouth, whispering to her friend, Jenny Sparks, directly next to her in the corner. Jenny wore a big smile, scrunching up her cheeks, making her eyes to slits, as she listened to what Suzy had to say. Then she whispered back to her friend and giggled.
“Suzy. Jenny.” Mrs. Rehberg’s voice quivered, missing the strength she usually speaks with. She cleared her throat, fixed her dress, and said again, “Miss Landers and Miss Sparks, sit up and face the table properly. It’s rude. And it’s especially rude to whisper at the table.”
Both students stiffened and folded their hands, sitting properly at the table.
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