28 x 20: Here's Everything You Need To Know
FAQs | Daily prompts for writing 28 super-short personal essays in 20 minutes
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We’ve survived the 1200 days of January.
Forgive typos and grammatical wrongs, not only because I always make them, but because I haven’t slept since March. What’s important is February is upon us and 28 x 20 starts tomorrow. Here’s everything you may or may not be wondering about.
Remind me what this is.
28 x 20 gets you purpose-driven prompts for writing tiny creative nonfiction. 28 days. 28 prompts. 28 flash essays. 20 minutes.
What’s a flash essay?
A brief but fully lived personal story that unfolds in a small amount of real estate.
How does 28 x 20 work?
One prompt delivered to your inbox once a day. Most days also include a published piece, craft tips, resources, advice, or thoughts on the creative life. Set a timer for 20 minutes (or 10 and 10) and at the end of February, you’ve written 28 tiny true essays. Little things are big.
What if I’m not a writer?
Who cares? You can be anything. Just show up and write. Here’s a note about why you should do it.
I want to join, but it’s after February 1st.
That’s fine. Paid subscribers have complete access to the 28 x 20 archive, so you won’t miss out on a single prompt. What is time, anyway?
How long should the stories be?
150 words minimum, and, to keep it flashy, about 800 maximum. But mostly, it’s wherever 20 minutes takes you.
Do I have to share my writing?
No.
Can I share my writing?
Yes. Drop up to 300 words in the comments section on any given day. Keep in mind: comments for 28 x 20 are not public, but they are accessible to all paid subscribers, even if they’re not participating.
Do I need to sign up or pay an extra fee?
28 x 20 is a perk of being a paid subscriber. If you have a paid subscription to HOW I LEARNED, you’re good to go.
I’m not getting the emails.
Check your spam, trash, and tabs. Search “28 x 20”. Still don’t see them? Visit 28 x 20 on the website. It’s all in there.
Is there feedback?
Not formally, but you can reply in the comments and hit that “like” button.
Can I invite other people?
Please invite 10,000 people using any of these convenient options:
(1) Send people a direct referral (and get a 1-6 month comp); (2) send this link to the 28 x 20 main page; (3) this link to the HOW I LEARNED subscription page; (4) gift someone a subscription for the month or for the year. I guess it would depend on how much you like them.
Besides 28 x 20, what do I get as a paid subscriber?
Full access to paywalled posts, archives, comments — the whole HOW I LEARNED universe. Your monetary support also helps sustain free access for readers with limited resources; makes a crucial goal possible — PAYING WRITERS; keeps Featured Essays, Last Thing I’ll Say, My Next Ghost, and DREADLINE alive; paves the way for 28 x 20 to happen every February from now until the end of time (which is probably soon). BONUS: a mention in the Acknowledgements page of my book (I haven’t finished the book, because I’ve been working on the Acknowledgements for a while now).
Concerns? Complaints? Drop them in the comments.
Until tomorrow.
Let’s f***ing go.
xo Blaise
I did it you guys 🫢
“When I saw the word ritual, instinctually, I want to write about chanting. It feels too easy, but I guess that’s a benefit for me. I also feel like a fraud to write about a ritual, when the only action I take that is consistent with every single day is waking up to pee first thing in the morning, and snoozing my alarm. That I do without hesitation. Every. Single. Morning. Even on the weekends when the only reason for the alarm is to remind myself to give my son his daily drop of vitamin D. There are many mornings I wake before the first alarm sounds, but I grant myself permission to close my eyes again until it’s time to start the show.
When the 7am alarm hits, I will gently sit up not to stir my son awake. I hit the giant snooze button. With my phone’s most recent update the snooze and off button have finally been made more distinguishable. Unlike a few months again when both buttons used to be virtually the same size and on several occasions I woke up late. Once snoozed, I find myself back into bed.
In my subconscious I know the alarm will alert me in nine minutes to rise once again. Fortunately, my conscious state at the time only relishes in shutting my eyes once more and resting for as long as I please. I will continue to hit the snooze button a few more rounds. Because it’s so easy to peacefully sleep once again, both my future and past self know that I require several extra nudges.
My back-up alarm sounds at 7:45am. Now I know this is truly my moment, the house lights have dimmed to indicate the show is about to begin. I reluctantly wiggle my way out of bed and grab my phone.”
This is best thing to happen in 2026 thus far!!!