How To Find Powerful Stories In Your Ordinary Tuesday

Why "nothing happens to me" is the biggest lie you tell yourself as a writer

Photgraph by author

Ever said to yourself, “But I don’t have any good stories…”?

Yeah. Me too.

But I’m calling that out.

As did someone at my recent writing workshop when she started recognising the stories in her life.

Because I’d guess you’ve had a moment today that’s the seed for a powerful, funny, moving, or thought-provoking story.

And I bet you didn’t value, let alone catch it (which is not your fault).

The problem is that we don’t understand storytelling.

We think stories have to be big, dramatic, perfectly wrapped in meaning like a TED Talk.

But the truth is that the best stories start small. They whisper rather than shout.

• They’re in the way the barista looked harried, but still had energy for a smile.

• In your neighbour’s Bengal cat, who escaped from her cage and came flying into your yard.

• In the protest you went to today, where the politician didn’t show (in case of protest).

The seeds of good stories are everywhere. You just need to start noticing them.

You are a storyteller. You’ve just been out of practice.

Maybe you haven’t written anything since high school. Maybe you’re used to writing memos and reports, not reflections. Maybe you’ve been taught your life has to be impressive to be shared.

Nope.

That’s the myth that shuts people up. It says: “Unless it’s huge and emotional and life-changing, don’t bother, we’re not interested.”

Let’s flip that.

A story isn’t a novel. It’s a short scene.

Pay attention as you watch a good sitcom. You’ll see how a writer creates small stories from very ordinary moments.

The everyday is the material.

If you can tell a friend about the man curled up on the train seat, who’d stayed over to mind the grandchildren, and how it turned into a lovely moment with strangers smiling at each other… you’ve already told a story.

You don’t need perfect prose. You need presence. Curiosity.

And a simple system to catch the gold when it appears.

That’s what you need to build.

Here are the three simple steps to start.

Step 1: Switch on your ‘Noticer’ mode

Writers are observers. Noticers. Eavesdroppers (the generous kind).

Here’s how to start spotting story sparks in your day:

• Pay attention to sensory micro-moments. A glance, a phrase, a smell, a sudden burst of laughter or tears.

• Tune into conflict or contrast. Did someone react in a way you didn’t expect? Did something go right after going very wrong?

• Watch for strong feelings. If something made you smile, cringe, ache, or rage, it’s a story trigger.

• Look for tiny transformations. Did you see something differently after a short interaction or reflection?

Your story muscles grow with practice.

The world becomes more vivid when you’re open to that moment that’ll breathe life into a post.

Step 2: Keep a ‘Story Seeds’ stash

Don’t trust your memory. It’s a slippery thing, right?

Instead, catch story ideas the moment they show up.

Try one of these:

• Use the Notes app on your phone. Make a folder called “Story Seeds.”

• Carry a tiny notebook in your bag or pocket. Old-school and magical.

• Voice record a quick thought while walking your dog or doing the dishes.

Write down the thing exactly as you noticed it, not how you think you should write it. “Lady at health food store dropped her kefir and swore like a pirate—everyone laughed.” Perfect.

You don’t need to write the full story yet. Just plant the seed.

Step 3: Shape it into a short post

You’ve spotted a story. You’ve jotted a note.

Now what?

Here’s a ridiculously simple structure to turn it into a short Substack post (or Note or journal entry):

1. Start with the scene
Open in the middle of the action. What did you see/hear/feel?

“The magpie was waiting for me. Same spot as yesterday. Same glare. Same bird.”

2. Add meaning or a twist
Why did this moment stay with you? What thought or memory did it spark?

“It made me think about how we underestimate the power of routine. This bird shows up more consistently than most people. Apparently they recognize who belongs in their territory too.”

3. End with a nudge or reflection
Turn it toward your reader. Make them feel something. Ask a question.

“What if we stopped chasing ‘more interesting’ lives and started appreciating the steady, small ones we already live?”

Done.

Real examples from my week (yes, just this week):

• New to South Australia, I’ve mostly taken trips during the brown, dry summer, but this week I saw the brilliant, green growth on red soil that comes after rain. Nature keeps surprising me.

• Seaside breakfast with friends and an Antarctic wind blowing. She had brought an extra beanie, plus the cafe offered blankets. Thoughtful humans.

• A neighbour told me about a nearby mudslide where a friend slipped at night and another neighbour carried her to the ambulance. Good people surround me.

Nothing epic. But when written with care, these moments connect us.

That’s the essence of storytelling. Noticing, capturing, sharing.

Here’s your challenge:

For the next three days, jot down three story seeds per day.
You don’t even have to turn them into posts yet.

Just practice noticing. And create a habit of capturing and reflecting.

Because you don’t need to invent drama. You don’t need to train as a professional writer.

You don’t need to wait until you “have something to say.”

You and your life are the story.

Now share it.