Every work of literature, and much nonfiction narrative, is based on at least one of the following conflicts. When you write a story or a biography, or relate a true event or series of events, you need not focus on such themes, and there’s no reason to state them explicitly (except in passing, perhaps, to provide insight about a biographical subject), but you’re wise to identify the conflicts inherent in your composition and apply them as you write.

1. Person vs. Fate/God This category could be considered part of conflict with self or with society (many people count only four types of conflict, including those two and conflict with another person or with nature). That’s a valid argument, as one confronts fate as part of an internal struggle and religion is a construct of society, but explicitly naming fate (Oedipus Rex) or God — or the gods (The Odyssey) — as the antagonist is a useful distinction.

2. Person vs. Self A person’s struggle with his or her own prejudices or doubts or character flaws constitutes this type of conflict (Hamlet).

3. Person vs. Person Any story featuring a hero and a villain or villains (The Count of Monte Cristo) represents this type of conflict, though the villain(s) is/are often representative of another antagonist in this list, whether a villain is in essence an alter ego of the protagonist (thus representing the conflict of person versus self) or stands in for society.

4. Person vs. Society When the protagonist’s conflict extends to confronting institutions, traditions, or laws of his or her culture, he or she struggles to overcome them, either triumphing over a corrupt society (I draw a blank here), rejecting it (Fahrenheit 451), or succumbing to it (1984).

5. Person vs. Nature In this conflict, the protagonist is pitted against nature (Robinson Crusoe) or a representation of it, often in the form of an animal (Moby Dick).

6. Person vs. Supernatural Superficially, conflict with the supernatural may seem equivalent to conflict with fate or God, or representative of a struggle with an evocation of self (Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde) or nature (The Birds). But this category stands on its own feet as well.

Many of us want to write fiction but rarely manage to get round to it. We struggle to find a free hour to write in – or the energy to write. Doing writing bursts is a great way to get going when time is short and motivation flagging.

What is a writing burst?

I came across the concept in Robert Graham’s How to Write Fiction (And Think About It). Mini-exercises are scattered throughout the book, and Graham explains:

Every class I teach begins with a 10 minute writing exercise which I call a writing burst. I give a stimulus and ask the class to start writing, keep writing for 10 minutes and not to worry for one second about the quality of the work appearing on the paper.

When the thought of sitting down and writing a whole short story is daunting, it’s much easier to find 10 minutes. Open your notebook or word-processing program of choice, write the burst at the top, then set a timer – and write without stopping or looking back.

How do writing bursts help?

I use writing bursts when I have very little time in the day to write, but wanted to feel I’ve achieved something. They’re also great for establishing a creative mood at the beginning of a longer writing session.

You can use the material you produce as a starting point for longer pieces. One of mine became a thousand-word “twist in the tale” short story that I’ve submitted to a woman’s fiction magazine.

The bursts help you to generate new or unusual ideas – I come up with more creative and interesting concepts than usual, because I don’t stop to self-edit.

Where do you find them?

There are plenty of sources for writing burst prompts.

The Writers’ Book of Matches, by Writers’ Digest Books, is a collection of “1,001 prompts to ignite your fiction”.

The Pocket Muse: Ideas and Inspirations for Writing has some similar exercises, as well as photo prompts to help spark your writing.

Competitions which give a first line can be used as writing bursts.

Famous quotes can work well, so long as they’re short.

Phrases or lines from a story you’ve read that inspire you are also good starting points.

What variations are there?

If you’ve tried a few writing bursts and you’re starting to get bored, the concept is open to any number of tweaks.

When ten minutes starts to seem too rushed, you could lengthen the burst to fifteen or twenty minutes.

If your ideas seem stale or trite, try writing with a friend: use the same prompt and swap the pieces that emerge. Alternatively, use multiple prompts – pick two prompts at random and figure out how to use them both.

If you’re writing a novel or extended piece of fiction and have ground to a halt, use a prompt to get going again. You can always cut the scene out later – but it just may give your story the new life it needs.

Some writing prompts

After completing a solo camping trip, a woman gets her film developed and discovers that several photos are of her … sleeping. (From 1,001 Prompts)

“That was the moment I wished I could remember what we’d been taught.” (from How to Write Fiction)

“She’s been told.” (from How to Write Fiction)

“When a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates his mind wonderfully.” (Samuel Johnson)

A man sneezes painfully. He looks into his handkerchief and finds something that looks like a microchip. (From 1,001 Prompts)

“The place is very well and quiet and the children scream only in a low voice.” (Byron)

As with all activities, writing fiction involves getting to grips with professional jargon. The following are some of the more common terms you may come across as you learn your craft and market your writing.

They often seem disreputable, like sullen idlers loitering in a public thoroughfare, but they actually do a lot of hard work and are usually persnickety about the tasks to which they are put. They are interjections — one class of them, anyway: those lacking etymological origins but packed with meaning.

But how do you know how to distinguish similar ones — or spell them, for that matter? Here’s an incomplete inventory of interjections (not including variations of actual words such as yeah for yes or onomatopoeic echoes of externally produced sounds like boom):

Working on my next book in the midst of enjoying another fantastic American Players Theater season started me thinking. Acting and writing are both, after all, forms of storytelling. When I write a book I start by building characters. I use a “voice journal” and write in the 1st person voice of my characters. Whether my final writing is in 1st or 3rd person, I find it invaluable to begin with my characters speaking to me directly. As their voices become familiar, their attitudes bubble to the surface and mannerisms form. Before I know it, I’m walking around the house talking in different voices. I even have arguments between characters where I talk both sides. Hey, why not act crazy? I’m a writer and being eccentric is one of the perks. In the middle of one of these “crazy” moments, I wondered about the actor’s process.

As a novelist, I’ve found studying other forms of the written word (screenwriting, poetry, non-fiction essays, playwriting, songwriting) strengthens my novel writing. Why not branch beyond and see what acting had to teach me? I was already walking around, talking in strange voices. I picked up Stella Adler’s book, The Art of Acting. I flipped to the table of contents. Various chapters called to the writer within me: Developing the Imagination, Building a Vocabulary of Actions, Character Elements, and Learning a Character’s Rhythm. As I read, I found when I opened my mind just a bit (ouch! That always hurts, doesn’t it?) acting concepts do cross over to writing. Quite nicely, in fact.

As a writer, it’s natural to borrow acting techniques. Whether an audience hears a character speak or a reader hears dialogue in his head as he reads, voice defines characters and makes them real. Voice grabs our interest and draws us in to truly experience the story. It is well worth your time to develop the voice of your characters and narrative.

Jessica Lowndes & Terrance Zdunich - "In All My Dreams I Drown"

Unlike Adverbs, which often seem capable of popping up almost anywhere in a sentence, adjectives nearly always appear immediately before the noun or noun phrase that they modify. Sometimes they appear in a string of adjectives, and when they do, they appear in a set order according to category. (See Below.) When indefinite pronouns — such as something, someone, anybody — are modified by an adjective, the adjective comes after the pronoun:

Anyone capable of doing something horrible to someone nice should be punished. Something wicked this way comes.

And there are certain adjectives that, in combination with certain words, are always "postpositive" (coming after the thing they modify):

Adjectives are words that describe or modify another person or thing in the sentence. The Articles — a, an, and the — are adjectives.

the tall professor

the lugubrious lieutenant

a solid commitment

a month's pay

a six-year-old child

the unhappiest, richest man

If a group of words containing a subject and verb acts as an adjective, it is called an Adjective Clause. My sister, who is much older than I am, is an engineer. If an adjective clause is stripped of its subject and verb, the resulting modifier becomes an Adjective Phrase: He is the man who is keeping my family in the poorhouse.