A Tiny Prompt That Opens Worlds
My go-to writing exercise when I have writer's block
Two springs ago I sat in a doctor’s office, waiting. I looked out the window where a tree bent in the beginnings of bloom; it felt like a metaphor. As I noticed its melancholy beauty, I heard a child scream down the hall, and this little piece stirred up in me.
I wrote it down in my phone and published it on Instagram, letting it be what it was—a tiny piece of art in the form of a five things essay.
What is a Five Things Essay?
A five things essay is comprised of five sections, standing each on their own, yet connected by a common theme. These pieces talk to each other, but not always overtly. They don’t say anything too loudly; they respect the reader enough not to spell it out for them. They might be vignettes, lines of thought, explorations of truths, etc.
When I sit down to write a five things essay, I sit down not as an expert but as an explorer. At the top of my page I write the number one, and I put down one sentence, and then another. I put down words and images that seem to fit and flow. I let the writing lead me. I do this five times.
And then I let it rest.
It’s not often that I write one of these essays and immediately publish it. (In fact, I think this essay might be the only one of its kind I’ve ever put out into the world.) You need to let the ideas soak in a little bit and then come back to it with fresh eyes. Maybe those five things make a whole. Maybe one of them in particular speaks to you, and you pluck it out from amongst its brothers to take it in a new direction.
The purpose of a five things essay is to serve you. It’s a delightful little exercise because there’s no pressure for it to be anything other than what it is. Because of this, it’s a wonderful practice when you feeling writer’s block looming.
I’m sharing mine here today as just one example. Each of my five sections are pretty short; most of the five things essays I see in the wild are much longer than this, as are most of mine. But, like I said, you need to let it be what it is. Let it take up space, or let it be succinct. Just write it.
A five things essay from spring 2023
One
The tree outside the window leans low, offering its budding berries to the earth. There is a pile of them in the grass, dropped by breezes and the heavy work of hanging on.
Inside the hospital window, the room reeks of sterilization.
Down the hall, a child screams.
Two
My younger brother used the word “why” like Americans use salt. He knows everything now.
I was never curious about the way engines worked or why the leaves changed color. I could write poetry about autumn without understanding its science.
Three
At a picnic table in the spring she asks why God allows things that aren’t good for us. A gust of wind sends a tree's popcorn buds spiraling down on our heads, a pool of pale grief on the ground. A theological summary sits on my tongue like bitter herbs as I look into her brimming eyes.
Mourn with those who mourn.1
Four
Most days it is enough for me to know that God allows suffering (for now) because of free will and his glory and my good, and reasons we can't comprehend. For as heaven is higher than earth, so my ways are higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.2 I've seen the flowering fruit of sanctification he's grown in my soul. It is richer than any day without this disease.
A day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere.3
But some days I sit on the bathroom floor, my body quivering in neurological horror, and for the thousandth time I ask him to heal me. "Can I be done now, God? Your will be done now, God."
A pool of grief. My popcorn brain exploding.
Five
My Savior's back was bent as he carried a tree up a hill to die. Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.4 But he came from death to life, firstborn in the resurrection. The New Creation is coming, ushered in by the sacrifice of a misunderstood, despised middle eastern man who laid the foundations of the world. God with us.5
Down the hall, a mother bends to comfort her screaming child.
Outside the window, the tree feeds the birds and bows to honor God.
Every moment, God bends near to me. He catches my tears in a bottle—and adds his own.
Cultivating Community
Since writing is a mostly solitary activity, let’s create some connections. Join me in the comments and tell us:
Have you ever written a five things essay? What do you like about this form?
Are there any other exercises, prompts, or practices that help you get your words flowing again?
From where have you drawn unlikely inspiration for past pieces?
Where are you finding inspiration this week?
Do you have questions for me? Ask away in the comments! Do you want to request a topic for this newsletter? Tell me in the comments!
This Week’s Writing Prompt
Write a five things essay! If you share it publicly, I want to read it. Tag me on Substack or on Instagram @alicialynnhamilton. And feel free to drop the links in the comments on this post to share with our community!
Other places to connect:
My book! Eternity in Our Hearts: How the Wisdom of Ecclesiastes Frees Us to a Richer Reality
My other Substack: A Creative Connection
Romans 12:15
Isaiah 55:9
Psalm 84:10
Isaiah 53:4
Matthew 1:23
This is such a lovely prompt idea -- thank you for sharing Alica! I also want to note that this line you wrote, "My younger brother used the word “why” like Americans use salt. He knows everything now." is LOVELY. I am obsessed with it. Beautiful words as usual!!!!!
That last line hits so hard. I’ll have to explore this idea further when I’m not trapped under a blanket listening to nursery rhymes as my toddler falls asleep.