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Whether you're halfway through a novel or haven’t written in a while, short stories can be such a refreshing way to get back into the flow. They’re quick, creative, and honestly brilliant for warming up your writing muscles—especially if you’re in need of a nudge.

Maybe you’re thinking of entering a competition, or just want to shake things up with something totally different from what you’re working on. Either way, short stories are a brilliant space to experiment— with voice, structure, characters, all of it—without the pressure of a huge project. And the best part? Writing more short stories really does make you a better writer.

If you’re looking for a spark of inspiration, we’ve put together some writing prompts to help you get started. Who knows—one of these might just turn into your next favourite piece.

Short story writing prompts

Let’s start broad. These creative writing prompts can be adapted to any genre, and they’re perfect for sparking those first few sentences when you’re staring at a blank page.

• A character finds a letter in an old book—addressed to them, but written 100 years ago.
• Someone makes the exact same wish every year on their birthday. This year, it comes true—but not in the way they imagined.
• A shop that only appears at night opens its doors to one unsuspecting visitor.
• A character decides to disappear for a day without telling their family. What happens when they return?

These short story prompts are especially handy for short story writers entering competitions—judges often look for originality, a strong hook, and a satisfying ending, all of which can grow from a well-formed idea.

Romance short story prompts

For those who love a dash of longing and connection, these romance-themed ideas are ideal:

• Two rival street performers keep trying to outdo each other at the same spot. Their acts get more elaborate... and more flirtatious.
• A character agrees to be someone's fake date for a wedding—only to realise too late it's their ex’s wedding.
• Someone receives a text from an unknown number. They start replying. It becomes the highlight of their day.
• A florist keeps receiving anonymous deliveries of rare flowers. Each one comes with a clue.

Romantic short stories are a great way to test chemistry and tension between characters in just a few pages—and who doesn’t love a heartwarming twist?

Funny short story prompts

Want to make your reader laugh (or at least raise an eyebrow)? Here are some humorous creative writing prompts to play with:

• A ridiculous item gets posted to the wrong address.
• A character joins a cult by mistake after trying to sign up for a free yoga class.
• A character joins a protest thinking it’s about climate change—turns out it’s to save a beloved local sandwich.
• A character tries a new mindfulness app, only to find it starts commenting on their life choices. Loudly. In public.

Funny short stories are a brilliant way to experiment with voice and timing, and they’re often memorable in competition entries for all the right reasons.

Fantasy short story prompts

Need something a little more magical? These short story ideas are great for fans of speculative fiction:

• A character sells spells for other people, but why won’t their own spells work for them?
• A secret guild of mapmakers redraws the world every night, but one accidentally erases their hometown. Now they have to fix it before midnight.
• A witch gives a character the ability to read minds for one day only.
• A character decides to bottle and sell dreams. One buyer wants a refund.

Fantasy is where short stories get to play big. You don’t need a thousand pages to whisk a reader off to a world with dragon-crawling forests, talking crows, or secret societies in the sea. In just a few scenes, you can explore magic, power, good vs evil—or just what happens when someone opens the wrong door. Its imagination turned up at the highest volume, and the best part? You make the rules. Then you break them.

Scary short story prompts

Ready to chill your readers’ bones? Try these scary short story prompts for a darker twist:

• A character moves into a new house and finds the exact same furniture they left in their old one—right down to the scratches.
• Every time someone looks in the mirror, the reflection smiles just a second too late.
• A voice on the baby monitor starts giving warnings.
• A child draws the same faceless figure every day, saying it visits them at night.

Short horror stories are brilliant for bumping up tension and mood—and they make deliciously scary entries for seasonal contests (hello, Halloween looking at you) or eerie little anthologies.

Psychological thriller prompts

What happens when your character can’t trust what they see—or themselves? Try these psychological thriller prompts and see just how deep the rabbit hole goes:

• A man wakes up every day to a voice recording he doesn’t remember making. Each day, the message gets more disturbing.
• Someone starts to suspect they’re being followed. But when they finally confront the stalker, the person insists they’re the one being followed.
• A therapist realises all of their clients are dreaming about the same person—but none of them know each other.
• A woman’s new housemate is perfect. Too perfect. And she’s starting to mirror the woman’s habits… exactly.

Short stories are a perfect match for psychological thrillers—tense, twisty, and packed with just enough uncertainty to leave readers checking over their shoulders. These stories thrive on doubt, shifting perspectives, and the slow unravelling of what we think we know. Whether it’s obsession, memory, or a truth hiding in plain sight, it’s all about playing with the mind.

Historical fiction prompts

What might your characters uncover—or risk—when the past refuses to stay buried? Try these historical fiction prompts to dig into secrets, scandals, and moments that still echo through time:

• During WWII, a woman running a bookshop starts slipping coded messages between the pages for the resistance.
• A photographer in the 1920s captures something shocking on film—and must decide whether to share it.
• In 1950s Soho, a jazz singer becomes the target of surveillance after befriending someone with political ties.
• A lighthouse keeper in the 1800s battles loneliness and the strange lights that appear offshore every foggy night.

Short stories are a brilliant way to zoom in on a single moment, a hidden voice, or a tiny rebellion that never made it into the textbooks. All you need is a sliver of time, a strong sense of place, and someone with something to lose.

Take a break, try a prompt

Whether you're deep into your novel or juggling a few too many writing plates, stepping away to write a short story can feel like a creative exhale. Prompts are brilliant for breaking through blocks, playing with new characters, or sparking an idea that surprises you and takes on a life of its own!

And who knows—your next short story might just turn into something bigger than you expected.

Want more inspiration?

Check out these other blogs on short story writing...

Short Story Structure: The Art of Writing a Great Short Story

How To Write A Short Story In 10 Steps

10 Great Examples of How to Begin a Short Story

That’s right: eight months. Less than a year.  

If you’re like I once was – that is, if you’ve spent years thinking about writing a novel but rarely putting pen to paper or fingers to keyboard – this timeframe might sound mad. But, as I discovered when I finally gave writing a proper go, showing up to your manuscript consistently can yield far quicker results than you might think.  

Now, having published four books, I’d say a good quality draft (90,000 words or so) takes me around six months to pull together. So, what took me from dreaming about writing to actually doing it? I didn’t undergo an overnight personality transplant or discover a magical wellspring of motivation. (Unfortunate, as that would still be super useful). In fact, I did that most cliched yet crucial of things. I gave myself permission to try.  

As if to signal to myself that having a bash at writing a book was 100% allowed, I signed up for a creative writing course. Ultimately, this made all the difference to my craft, discipline and self-belief – but in the short-term, following a structured programme felt far more comfortable than simply winging it in the hope I’d one day reach ‘the end’.  

If you think you’d benefit from a similar experience, our eight-month Novel Writing Course might be exactly what you need. It’s designed for writers who have great ideas but feel they’re flying blind when it comes to plot-planning, character development, worldbuilding and so on. 

Not ready to commit to a course? With a little planning, plus positivity and persistence, you can still get your book written (or at least well underway) in less than a year.  

Feeling fired up? Here’s what to do next… 

Eight steps to writing your novel in eight months

1. Plan your story upfront

George RR Martin could have written about the bitter divide between House Planner and House Pantser. For the uninitiated, the debate comes down to the difference between people who simply must have an outline before they begin drafting and those with the brass neck to sit down at a blank screen and just… see what happens.  

I joke, of course: there’s no real argument. We writers are a peaceful people, and most accept there’s no right or wrong way to work. Personally, though, I need a proper plan before I get going – and if your ambition is to write a book within eight months, I don’t think risking ‘dead time’ (where you produce thousands of words that may serve no clear purpose) makes much sense.  

If you’re a Premium Member, you can access our Build Your Book Month content for free. This includes a very helpful plot-planning spreadsheet and a bunch of fantastic video lessons on the three-act story structure. (Not a PM? You can buy the content as a standalone course for £99, or join us to get this, plus plenty more writing resources).  

Alternatively, you might want to consider the Save The Cat approach, the five-act story structure or the snowflake method, all of which will allow you to create an overall ‘shape’ for your story before you start writing. However you choose to plan, doing so will effectively stress-test your novel idea, helping you work out whether it will extend into a narrative that’s tens of thousands of words long.  

On the Novel Writing Course, students spend their first month focused on planning their novels, and I’d suggest devoting a similar chunk of time – weeks, rather than days – to interrogating your story arc independently. Imagine the events, twists and turns you’ll include in your plot and work out how they’ll affect the journey your characters go on. Rushing through this stage tends to be a false economy: fail to answer key questions now, and they’ll come back to bite you later.  

2. Consider your novel's characters, point of view and setting

Who are you writing about? What problems do they have, and how does your protagonist – or their situation – need to change in order for your story to be satisfying? Remember, a novel isn’t really about what happens: it’s about how what happens affects characters readers care about.  

Are you going to write in first person, third person, past or present tense? (You might have to experiment a bit with points of view in order to find out what’s most effective.)  

Where will the action of your story take place? Is there research you need to do, or worldbuilding you need to undertake, before you can start drafting in earnest?  

These questions need consideration both before you begin writing, but also as your story unfolds. Again, the Novel Writing Course offers tutorials and one-to-one support with all this. Meanwhile, if you’re a Premium Member, you’ll find there are multiple masterclasses available to help you.

3. Develop a novel writing routine

If you want to draft a novel in eight months, you’ll need to commit to writing regularly. Establishing a routine you can stick to (at least most of the time) is key, so ask yourself: when do you work best? How many hours per day, or per week, do you think you can spend on your manuscript?  

You might want to think in terms of word count milestones, rather than time spent at your desk – though this can be demotivating on days when the sentences won’t flow! That said, you’ll definitely need to set an overall wordcount goal that makes sense for the genre you’re writing in. If your book is commercial fiction, for example, you shouldn’t be aiming to write a 1000-page tome.  

You might want to put together a novel writing timeline that takes your final goal, plus any holidays or days off writing you’re going to need, into account. This will ensure you stay on track, but also that you keep your workload realistic. 

Whichever way you do it, create a plan that will make showing up to your work-in-progress something that feels natural: automatic. Being enrolled on a course did this job for me. I didn’t want to be the classmate who hadn’t done her homework, so I made sure to show up with fresh words every time I was supposed to! 

Finally, why not incentivise yourself a little? If you’re planning to write first thing in the morning, pair your early start with an extra-swish coffee. Alternatively, if your book work needs to wait until after the kids are in bed, make settling down with it feel like a treat: grab a cuppa, light a candle and settle in.  

4. Don't be afraid to deviate...

Having a plot plan shouldn’t stifle your creativity. See it as a roadmap for your adventure in story-telling – not a tunnel that offers only one way through.  

It’s not unusual for events to play out slightly differently on the page than they did in your head, or for a minor character’s voice to end up louder than you’d anticipated. Exploring opportunities when they arise – indulging these moments of inspiration – is where much of the true joy of writing is found.  

So, allow for deviations on the road to finishing your story – so long as they don’t take you to a completely random destination! 

5. Push perfectionism aside

If you’re writing to a deadline, you can’t afford to edit every single sentence as you go.  

Resist the urge to perfect each paragraph you produce in favour of pushing forward with your plot. If you must, highlight chunks of text you’re not convinced about so you don’t forget to examine them later – but focus on finishing your book before you worry about making every word beautiful.  

6. Write with authenticity

‘Sticky patches’ in writing often occur because getting the words out feels like pulling teeth. In those moments, I ask myself: am I trying to write something that doesn’t feel true, or in a style that’s not natural to me? 

Finding your own voice is a process, and it’s something we cover in detail on the Novel Writing Course.  

If you’re feeling blocked, try stepping back. Approach the plot point or scene you’re working on afresh. Write it honestly, with no spin – in the way you might if your only aim was entertaining a good friend. See what happens.  

7. Think about sharing your story

Different people choose to use buddies or beta readers at different stages of their writing journey – but constructive criticism can be helpful during, as well as after, drafting.  

As I worked on my first book, I found my friends’ and mentor’s feedback helped me avoid making mistakes that might have tripped me up – but their encouragement also kept me going when writing felt too hard and I lost confidence in myself.  

One of the best things about the Novel Writing Course is the incredible level of one-to-one support every student gets from their personal tutor: more individual guidance than is offered on any alternative out there.  

8. Power through your novel - then pause

The difference between people who write whole novels and those who don’t is almost always that the first group simply refused to give up. There are plenty of talented writers out there who’ll never complete a full manuscript – not because they lack the ability, but because they aren’t tenacious enough.  

With a plan and a writing routine in place, your job is actually pretty simple: keep showing up.  

If you do, in eight months (or within a realistic timeframe that works for you), you’ll have a full draft – a truly incredible achievement.  

When you get there, have a rest. Give yourself a little distance from your draft before diving back in to edit it.  

If they feel ready, students on our Novel Writing Course have the option to upgrade to the Ultimate Novel Writing Programme after spending eight months on their drafts. This involves extra tutoring on self-editing, the different routes into publishing and how to get a literary agent. For Premium Members, there’s Debi Alper’s fantastic Introduction to Self-Editing Your Novel course: the perfect, self-guided route into refining your own work.  

Whatever kind of support you seek with your writing – whether it’s through a course, Premium Membership or engagement with our Townhouse community – I wish you all the best with getting your novel written.  

You really can do it – and in eight months, too!

Hello again! Welcome back to my series of blogs on what it’s really like to be a student on the Ultimate Novel Writing Programme.  

Month three focuses in on the topic of Setting. So, place and time, essentially. We’re talking descriptions of the immediate environment, descriptions of fashion, technology and social norms relevant to the point(s) in time when the story unfolds. It means descriptions of weather too, of the creatures, plants and other people who inhabit the same environment. But the most enjoyable aspect of Setting is the symbolism it enables. This feels really important. Delivering layers of symbolism feels like constructing a secret language between the reader and I. Huge fun. 

My stories are limited only by the stretch of my imagination. My characters can be put anywhere in space and time within the known universe, and if I was writing fantasy or science-fiction, even beyond these. So, it stands to reason that, out of the infinite possibilities, the setting I plump for must have significance. I chose it – I must have reasons. Why select it, otherwise? That’s true of the macro decisions on setting, and the micro. Why 2001 as the time-setting for the story? Why July? Why 6 o'clock in the evening? Why that rainbow in the sky? Why that country and county? Why that town? Why that café? Why that seat?  

This is how I get to perform magic. Via linguistic sleight of hand, the setting can make things apparent in flashy or subtle moments as the story requires. I can lay down a new and unexpected symbolism, with a ‘Did you see that?’ ambition for how the reader will experience it. Obviously (because I am writing books, not performing card-tricks in front of a live-audience) I have to hope the symbolism works in the way I intend – like seeds intended to flower in the imagination. For me, the fun is the idea that one day someone will smile whilst making a connection to their humanity, and murmur: ‘Yes, that’s right. I get that.’ 

In the story that I’m writing while studying on the Ultimate Novel Writing Programme, the main setting is a Suffolk village commune in a grand manor house. The house has been both a Nunnery and Friar Monks Seminary before it was purchased by the commune. It’s inspired by a real-life commune I often go past on long dog walks. The buildings alone are fascinating. But the real reason it is the main setting for my two main characters is that I can play with its meaning - how that relates to and foreshadows the emotional arcs my characters will experience. How they both hide from certain aspects of themselves, shutting themselves off from emotions, but also their definition of what family is, relative to community, relative to society. 

My previous manuscript (currently out querying literary agents – nine rejections so far, thanks for asking) features a woman held unknowingly between life and death. So, I placed her on a Suffolk beach next to the sea-ruined wreck of her ancestral farmhouse, also inspired by real-life events. What metaphor could be better than to sit between land and sea, between life and death, between the choice to carry on or give up? A liminal setting for a liminal story. I had a lot of fun stitching in descriptions of the beach, choosing specific colloquial plant names – Dead Man’s Bells is a real plant name, for instance. I used the rhythm of waves and how they move the land, and worked in the unknowable depths and power of sea and storm. Uncontrollable forces extinguished a whole village practically overnight, so I linked that to the choices my character made – and the emotional storms which had the capacity to ruin her life.  

Is it clear how much I love wielding the craft skill of setting in my writing? I hope so. When I began writing seriously again, it was setting I began with – big, wide-angled shots of the environment my characters moved through. Long passages with all the words! Yes! As tutor Anna Vaught says, I wanted *all* the words! Creating setting is how I came back to writing. I have a theory many new writers begin in this way, describing the world of their story before considering depth of character or even plot. 

I’ve learnt to be more judicious in my deployment of setting. The Ultimate Novel Writing Programme is helping me understand how it grounds the reader, how swiftly the description of a highly-specific setting can connect the reader’s imagination to the story.  

I now know how being selective in what I highlight, using vivid nouns and active verbs, can more effectively deliver meaning, conjuring the how and what the character does and experiences more successfully in the reader’s mind. Setting was a foundational stone of my writing, and this month is definitely underpinning why I still love it so.  

Happy writing, until next time!  
 
Rachel 

Rachel Davidson is a long-term Premium Member of Jericho Writers prior to joining our Writer Support Team, Rachel loves helping hopeful writers, such as herself, to solve their problems and take a step or two closer to achieving their writing dreams. Rachel has previously self-published a trilogy, the first of which achieved bestseller status in fourteen Amazon categories in the UK, US, Australia and Canada and is now seeking her traditional publishing debut with her latest manuscript. You can find out more about Rachel via her Instagram @RachelDavidsonAuthor.

As thrilling as it is to share what I’ve learned in my 20+ years as an editor, one of my favorite experiences as an instructor on Jericho’s Novel Writing Course and Ultimate Novel Writing Programme is watching students learn from each other. 

As the course progresses, and as they get to know and trust each other, they go from suggesting what an author could do to improve their project to what they should do to fiercely protect whatever it is that sparked a story to begin with. Over time, they begin enthusiastically coaxing one another to fan those sparks into something astonishing. 

Whether you’ve written a chapter or a complete draft of a novel, chances are, at some stage, you’re going to feel like you’ve gone as far as you can go on your own. When that moment arrives, it’s time to get some feedback. 

For some writers, it comes when they’ve been over (and over, and over…) a draft and have hit the point where it’s all trees, no forest. It’s time to get some perspective, see what’s resonating with readers, and find out what still needs improvement. Other writers find themselves at a crossroads with their project: a story could go this way or that way, and the implications of choosing either route are huge. In this scenario, an outside reader is a brainstorming partner to help them think through the options.

In either case, sharing your work with others can be a little scary. It’s a vulnerable moment, and having a plan for how to request, receive, and implement feedback can help you make the most of it.

1. Choose wisely

Many writers reach out to those closest to them—friends and family—for feedback, and while that can yield constructive criticism, don’t be surprised if you get a resounding “I love it! It’s perfect! Don’t change a thing!” from dear Aunt Bernice. While that’s lovely to hear, it’s not especially helpful. 

Cherish those champions—that note from your aunt will help you power through your umpteenth revision—but choose readers who are ready to help you improve, too. 

2. Give your readers some direction

Don’t be afraid to guide your readers about what kind of feedback you’re looking for, and avoid asking them yes or no questions. “Do you think the novel is working?” is going to yield less helpful feedback than “What can I do to improve the pacing in the last thirty pages?” 

A list of 5-10 questions can help ensure readers give you feedback you can actually use – and invite them to share anything else they want to with you, too. Whatever you do, please don’t instruct your readers, “Just tell me if I should never write again!” 

Everyone — yes, you included — can improve.

Before I wrote Flat 401, I worked for over a decade as a clinical psychologist. I spent years learning to understand the human mind and people’s experiences, and training to be able to help people overcome emotional challenges. At the time, I didn’t think of it as ‘preparation for novel-writing,’ but it turned out to come in handy!

Below are five ways my clinical background has informed how I write; I hope you might use these ideas too.

1. Tension: threat, not just action

In Compassion-Focused Therapy, we talk about the threat system - the part of the brain that activates when something feels dangerous. Importantly, it doesn’t distinguish between actual threat and perceived threat. The same group of physiological responses can be triggered by a near car crash or by a passive-aggressive text from your partner.

In fiction, this means tension doesn’t require a gun or a chase scene. It can be built on what a character believes might happen: being found out, losing face, hurting someone they love. If your character feels threatened - socially, emotionally, psychologically - the reader will too.

Tip: Identify what your character is afraid of losing (status, safety, love, control), put it in jeopardy – and make sure the reader can see and understand this.

2. Complex characters often don’t act in their own best interests

In the therapy room, people rarely show up with clear motivations. Or, they might express a motivation (‘I don’t want to be depressed or anxious’) but have understandable difficulty getting on board with the path towards that goal – because it’s hard.

Characters don’t need to be likeable (it’s often said), but the more memorable ones do need to be layered. Often, the richest characters are the ones whose behaviour is coherent, but not always free of contradictions.

Tip: Ask yourself, what does this character do that inadvertently sabotages themself? Put some of that into action by showing the unintended negative consequences of them pursuing (or avoiding pursuing) their goals.

Let’s face it - there’s nothing like a good plot twist. That delicious moment when your jaw drops, your brain short-circuits, and you immediately flip back a few pages muttering, “Wait, WHAT?”

Contrary to popular belief, plot twists are NOT just for crime writers. Whether you're working on a thriller, a romance, a fantasy epic, or even a literary darling, the plot twist is the literary version of a mic drop - and readers absolutely eat it up.

But why do we love plot twists so much? And more importantly, how do you pull one off without making readers roll their eyes so hard they sprain something?

Let’s twist again, like we did last chapter... (Ba du dum.) 

Why plot twists are so addictive

Plot twists are the espresso shot in your story cappuccino. They jolt readers awake. They make people text their friends at 2 a.m. with “YOU NEED TO READ THIS BOOK.” They’re proof that the author is five steps ahead, cackling behind the scenes, and we love being fooled like that.  

A good twist does three things: 

• Surprises the reader

• Makes sense in hindsight

• Changes the direction or emotional tone of the story. 

When done well, twists make readers feel smart for spotting the clues - or wonderfully blindsided if they didn’t. Either way, it’s a win. 

Plot twists across genres

You don’t have to write a psychological thriller to serve up a killer twist (though, let’s be real, they practically require one).

Here's how to tailor twists to different genres: 

Crime / Thriller / Mystery 

The plot twist is your bread and butter here. 

Classic moves: The killer was the narrator. The victim faked their death. The detective was the criminal. 

Pro tip: Leave breadcrumbs, but scatter them wide enough that readers miss the loaf. For more advice on pulling this off perfectly, be sure to check out our Crime Writing For Beginners video course with Graham Bartlett. Alternatively, if you’re after that extra level of support, consider our tutored Writing Crime and Thriller Novels course (starting 1 September)...