Incantations are prayerful, because they quieten the chatter of the rational mind—and that’s the goal of Imaginative Storm writing. When you quieten the rational mind, you free your imaginative intelligence.

Therapeutic writing doesn’t have to be all angst and drama. When you play with words using the Imaginative Storm method, they can lead you more lightly to insight, without the self-blame or guilt.

As long as your reader trusts you in the texture of what you’re writing, you can trust that your reader will follow where you lead them. You don’t have to spell things out; you can just let your scene unfurl and your reader will enjoy the feeling of understanding falling into place.

You might think you need an MFA to be considered a “serious” writer. You don’t! If you simply want to make your writing more powerful and memorable, try Imaginative Storm first!

Do you find it hard to believe that something written in just 10 minutes could be published? Yes it can! In the last week, Louis Faber has had two poems published which were written in 10 minutes in our Saturday writing group. In both cases, Lou didn’t even change a word!

“The 5-day workshop with Allegra was a fantastic, life-affirming experience. This workshop works for any level of writer, one getting a taste of what it is like to begin the life of a writer or for the accomplished practitioner …”

Just as you can play the piano or guitar for your own pleasure, you can write for your own pleasure. Hear your words the way you’d hear the notes you play. Even if they go no further, they have enriched your life and nourished your spirit.

In our five-day memoir workshop, yesterday, I set a prompt: to describe someone starting with their hands. Nine extraordinary, powerful, and varied pieces of writing were read out after the 10 minutes of writing.

These two pieces demonstrate the range of Imaginative Storm writing: from a closely observed, intense meditation on a memory, to a hop-skip-jump through puns and non sequiturs as a way of quieting an “octopus mind” …

So, when you get an idea for an arresting metaphor—an unexpected but somehow apt comparison—don’t stay on the threshold. Follow the metaphor as it illuminates and reveals perceptions that would otherwise be hidden. Head on down into the underworld, trusting that Virgil—let’s give the imagination that name, as Dante did—will guide you.

It hardly seems logical that a photograph of a strongman lifting a heavy weight, under a heavy sky, could lead to a poem about last love.

Setting a timer might seem like putting pressure on yourself, but in fact it’s the opposite! A 10-minute timer removes the pressure to write well, because how can you possibly write anything good in 10 minutes? …

Write by hand if you possibly can. First, because it unplugs you from the digital space. Second, because there’s some kind of hot-wire that happens between the imagination and the page …

The lovely thing about writing with a 10-minute timer is that you know you can’t paint a big picture, so you don’t worry about trying to get everything in. You have the luxury of focusing in on just one thought…

Danny was a treasured member of the Imaginative Storm Writing Group. In honor of his rich life, we’re sharing with you pieces written by other members of our group, as well as this poignant interview for Twice 5 Miles Radio recorded a few years back at a poetry festival in Asheville. It took place in James Navé’s car, nestled beneath an oak tree at the historic Riverside Cemetery, where literary icons Thomas Wolfe and O. Henry rest.

The words “I don’t remember” are like an incantation, an invitation for another trove of “what you don’t know” to flow through your writing hand onto the page.

See if you feel differently writing in a small notebook or a large one, on a blank sheet or lined page or graph paper. Try different pens, different colors. Green ink might release your inner hippie. Purple ink might release your inner psychic!

You might get a wild idea like this—a dating website offering nonhuman matches—and dismiss it as ridiculous. Diana just went with it and created this fabulous offering out of thin air.

Could it become a fantasy story? Could it be the fantasy of a person in a “real-life” story? Imaginative gifts like these hold myriad possibilities.

When you allow your imagination to play with a prompt, rather than trying to understand rationally what the image is or “figure out” what you ought to write, the possibilities are infinite. Playful or somber, personal or communal, sensory or philosophical.

Sometimes it’s just one detail of a prompt that sends you on a far-flung imaginative excursion.