Metropolitan Diary Challenge Day 2: How to Write Your N.Y. Story

Welcome to Day 2 of the Metropolitan Diary challenge, part of our celebration of the column’s 50th anniversary. On Day 1, we gave you tips for identifying your New York City story. Today, we’ll help you write it. (Missed Day 1? It’s not too late to start.)

What makes for a good Diary? It’s simply a good story that happens to be set in, and capture, the essential New York-ness of the city. While this isn’t a full writing course, we do have guidance on the kinds of elements that the submissions we publish include. They typically have: a beginning, middle and end; sharp details; catchy dialogue; a bit of surprise; some humor, warmth or emotion. But there is no formula, so flouting these loose rules can be worthwhile.

Don’t worry if you don’t think of yourself as a “writer.” Focus on being a “storyteller.” Pretend you are telling your story to the person who’d most appreciate it, using whatever conversational language or pacing that would hold their attention. Do it out loud if you want, maybe give that person a call and tell them your story (or tell it to them again). Then write it down.

That’s the big picture. For more tips, read on.

Here is an example of a published Diary that we (and readers) really liked, and a few thoughts on why that may help crystallize yours.

Unacceptable

Dear Diary:

I went to a new bagel store in Brooklyn Heights1 with my son.

When it was my turn to order, I asked for a cinnamon raisin bagel with whitefish salad and a slice of red onion.2

The man behind the counter looked up at me.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t do that.”3

— Richie Powers

One of this item’s best qualities is that it is short and snappy. Only 53 words! Although we will use stories of up to 300 words, many don’t need to be that long and the column doesn’t work if we don’t have a mix of long, medium and short, so we are always looking for stuff like this. Here’s another one!

At Attention

Dear Diary:

It was December 1967. I had just finished basic training at Fort Dix in New Jersey and was traveling to Boston in uniform. For reasons I no longer recall, I stopped in New York City on the way.1

Walking on the Upper East Side2 in a snowstorm, I spied another man in a uniform. He was older, and his cap bore the familiar gold band that identified him as an officer.

I rendered a snappy salute. It was not returned. 3The uniform was unfamiliar, so I guessed he was a foreign officer. Military courtesy still required me to salute.

A little farther down the street, I encountered another officer and offered another salute that went unacknowledged.4 His uniform was strange to me as well.

The third time it happened, the man I saluted ignored me while holding the door for a couple 5on their way into a large apartment building.

I realized I had been saluting doormen.6

— Stephen Salisbury

To get your storytelling muscles going, think through or jot down the answers to some of these questions.

Let’s start with setting the scene.

Now, let’s move to the middle, the meat of the story.

And now, the end.

That’s it. Keep your story simple and use the kind of plain language you use in conversation. You are sketching a moment in time. The details are important. Let them move the story along. Have fun and good luck.

Once you’re done, read through what you’ve got. What details are less important and can be left out? (Remember, there is a strict 300-word limit.)

Write your Metropolitan Diary however you like, on paper, on your phone or wherever! When you’re happy with what you’ve written, put your diary entry into the box below, fill out your information and submit it. You might just hear from me about including it in a future column.