What happened after I assigned practice writing to Lewis, as an “end run” around his declaration that he could never write as well as Dickens? For several weeks, not much occurred.
But now, after a few months of practice writing just twice a week, he has completed a 2,500-word essay and an entertaining short story about a ghost in a culvert.
Of the latter he commented, “I just kept seeing what to write next, and then I could see all the way to the end, and wrote it all in one sitting.”
I’m so glad I didn’t let his stated reluctance to write annoy me or halt me to the point where I didn’t see what to do. Now, he knows he can get flow and make up a good story. Therefore, despite his built-in perfectionism, he’s back on track again.