Challenge Yourself to Be More Observant
31-Day Ninja Writer Challenge 2019: Day Six
Here’s an excerpt from my 2018 notebook:
I’m writing this sitting in an Air BnB house in Boise. It’s small and quaint, filled with antiques. But, you know, thrift store antiques not precious antiques. Like someone’s grandma should live in it, or maybe a hipster couple with a baby named Flannery. The next door neighbor has a pride flag waving and a sign on their front lawn declaring that they are supportive of every liberal cause there is. I want to be their neighbor for real.
The house smells fresh, like the cleaning lady was just here. And she probably was. The way it worked out, my husband and I are sharing the bedroom with the twin beds. I feel like I’m in an episode of The Dick Van Dyke Show. The backyard is impossibly green and there’s a shed that, if this was my house, would be my office.
Someday, that little house in Boise will end up in one of my stories. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to live in a quaint little house like that. My family is too big and boisterous — we’d overflow it in minutes. And I am too inclined to want room — for myself, for other people.
But I can imagine what it would be like. And I can tell a story.
It’s my job to be aware of the world, so I can tell its stories.
Being a Ninja Writer means being observant.
Pay attention to the people around you. Listen to them speak, watch their body language.
I know that might sound creepy. I’m not advocating being a stalker here. I’m just saying — start to train yourself to be aware of the stuff that fades into the background for most people.
This afternoon my husband and I went to our daughter’s soccer game. There was one girl sitting on the other team’s bench who didn’t play at all. And as the game went on, two things happened.
She closed in on herself. Her shoulders hunched. She sat more apart from her teammates. And her dad, who was sitting near us, got angrier and angrier.
Finally, he walked down onto the field. He patted his daughter on the back and whispered something to her. She stood up and moved to the place on the sideline where girls go when they’re going to be subbed into the game.
Her coach saw her and sent her back to the bench. He had an exchange with the dad was was visually tense, but quiet enough that I couldn’t hear it. The dad finally walked back toward the bleachers — then turned back and called his daughter. She picked up her backpack and they left the field.
I was riveted by that whole scene. There’s a whole story in there. It made it’s way to my notebook. I had questions — which, of course, are reason why it would make a good story.
Was the girl angry at her dad and embarrassed that he’d made a scene? Was she happy that her dad took a stand? Will she play soccer again? The girl was biracial, her father was black — was racism involved? How will the coach handle it?
Train yourself to pay attention to the world around you.
Big things. Little things. All the things.
The way a perfectly worn in arm chair feels at the end of a long day.
The way that one bite that puts you over to too-full feels.
The smell of your daughter’s hair when she gives you a hug after she’s been playing hard.
The way you feel when you stand in a room full of people you don’t know.
Use all five senses during your observation. Think about how things smell, taste, feel, sound, and look.
Keep a notebook — a writer’s notebook — where you can note your observations. I love doing this, because it’s a great opportunity to use language and stretch my creativity, without worrying about anyone reading it.
Like Yogi Berra said: You can observe a lot by just watching!
ASSIGNMENT SIX
Keep your notebook with you today. Make a conscious effort to be observant. Write down at least three things you notice. Use your senses. Use great language. Have fun!
Come on over to Facebook and share your favorite observation of the day.
Go read Zach’s people-watching post.
Don’t forget to read and write for ten minutes each today. I bet the writing is starting to add up!
See all the posts in this series here.






