January Writing Prompts 2024 Novels & Stories

January arrived without asking anyone's permission. Elena had been told about January in London. Multiple people, at multiple points before she left home, had mentioned January in London with the specific emphasis of people trying to prepare someone for something that couldn't really be prepared for. It's dark, they said. It's cold in a way that gets inside things. One woman at a party the week before Elena left had said, with great seriousness, January in London will test your commitment to everything you thought you believed.

*** THE YEAR 1991 *** Jane was still writing down on the paper she had been holding since last night. Paul gave it to her as a gift and she wondered what she will write on that clean piece of paper. Her father was still on the farm, weeding some seeds from the ground, and Jane was looking farther than she thought. She sat down on the stool beside the bed she had been lying down earlier and wrote down the first sentence that came through her mind. "When the first time I saw you, I thought I saw something strange."

Through every scream, every cry, every tear, every compliant, every one of my words, every fight with myself, I kept quiet. November 30th · I hate myself. December 25th · I hate Christmas. It's the time of the year that is a reminder, I'm lonely. December 31st · Lonely, but not alone. I flipped a bunch of other empty pages- remembering I wrote my entries on random pages. January 1st, the new year. · I thought I'd be okay by now. Even though I've proven time and time again, I'd be the same ol' same.

Febuary comes with it's amusingly jumpy weather. And in Stonebay, this means it gets unexpectantly rainy, only to flip to sunny and even windy inbetween, too. With the vibes of New Year have pretty much faded, most of them upbeat mood-ers charge out to find new things to do. Whether it's finding somebody or something to cling to, or just setting out to actually start knocking the goals of their New Year's Resolutions. There's gotta always be a thing going on! While in my case, it's usually a watchful countdown. When might a terrible problem hits? Or, if this year is gonna take it easy on us.

Which was always the right time. The only time. Forward. Always forward. Even in January. Especially in January. When the days were short and the cold was real and the growing happened quietly against sheltered walls in the incremental returning light. Forward. One small green thing at a time.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"Uhm, you can still work on it, right? I mean it's okay but it's a little bit too plain if you'd ask me." "I still have time, the competition still has a year to prepare." It would be easier to write something based on real-life events since the contest's theme is about Real Life Story. "Why don't you just write something that's happening in your life? It would be easier that way." She's right but my story's a little too chaotic that I can't even put it in the right outline. "What's with your title? Why do I hate being in love?" Janine asked. That was my title because when I started crafting that, it was my bitterness era. I planned that one when I broke up with Ezicx, that was years ago and

Looking at the line he had written, Winter had to admit she hadn’t expected Roy’s handwriting to be this beautiful. Still, she remembered that the line came from an old love poem, one about devotion between husband and wife. And Roy had always been alone. But it was only a New Year’s wish. She decided not to read too much into it. Even between friends, the words could still mean something. “Okay. Let’s set it out together.” Winter rose to her feet. Roy held the lantern steady, and Winter placed both hands lightly against its sides. They walked it to the edge of the water and lowered it carefully onto the waves. As they watched it drift farther and farther out into the dark, Winter let out a

“What do you think about planning a winter adventure? We could explore the woods and maybe even build a snow fort!” Mia’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I love that idea! We could create a winter story inspired by our adventure, just like we did in the fall.” Elara nodded, brushing snow off her sketchbook. “And I can illustrate the magic of the winter woods. The snow-covered trees and the animals in their winter coats will be beautiful!” Leo grinned, his breath visible in the cold air. “Let’s make it a day of exploration and storytelling. We can gather materials for a winter-themed mural and celebrate the beauty of the season.”

On New Year’s Eve, Kian Newman never came home. Instead, he had someone deliver a container of frozen ravioli and sent me a single message: "Stay safe this year." I had barely locked the screen when a photo popped up in the company group chat. Isabel Wilkinson, Kian's assistant, had posted it. It was a lavish holiday dinner spread across the table, every dish clearly homemade. The caption read: "Someone spent all day cooking so I could have a taste of home. Love you."