A plan to help your teen write the college application essay

It’s your new nightly routine: your teen sits down to write their college application essay, stares at the blinking cursor, and waits for inspiration. You try not staring at your teen, but good luck with that. Frustrated sighs ensue. The screen remains blank. In the distance, you hear the admissions deadline creeping closer.

If this sounds familiar, take heart. Struggling to start is normal—even for professionals. During my many years writing for publications like The New York Times and The Atlantic and ghostwriting for CEOs, I’ve learned one invaluable lesson about getting started: inspiration is for amateurs.

Rather than waiting for that elusive bolt of brilliance, you’re better off “putting some clay on the table.” In other words, give yourself something—anything—to work with. And you do that by breaking things down into manageable steps.

Here’s a 48-hour plan you can use with your teen to help them move from stuck to started.

Step 1: Lower the Stakes (Tonight, 15 minutes)

Many students freeze because they think the essay has to be perfect from the first sentence. Remind your teen it doesn’t. Their only job tonight is to tell a story out loud, the way they’d tell a friend.

Instead of sitting down with a laptop, pretend the Wifi is busted and start a conversation.

“What’s one thing that happened this year you still think about?”
“If your best friend had to describe you with one story, which one would they tell?”

If they can talk for two minutes, they’ve broken the ice. Take some notes on what they’ve said, and get a good night’s sleep.

Step 2: Run a Quick Topic Exercise (Tomorrow, 30 minutes)

One of the most common issues I encounter when working with executives is their compulsion to cram every idea they’ve ever had into a single article. The result is cluttered, confusing, and useless at communicating anything. My advice is always: pick one thing and say it well.

This is especially true of the common app essay and its 650-word limit. To many high school students—especially those who aren’t confident in their topic—those 650 words may as well be an empty swimming pool they need to fill with tears. But believe me, once you have your topic and a proper structure, those 650 words will feel tighter than their freshman year sneakers (or, let’s be honest, Crocs).

Your teen can find that “one thing” with a simple three-list drill:

Moments: Write down five specific memories—random, meaningful, or otherwise—that you think about often.
Values: Write down five things you care about. People, objects, dates, whatever.
Changes: Name five ways you’ve grown or shifted perspective since you started high school.

When they’re done, look for overlap with last night’s notes. Maybe a memory reveals a value. Maybe a change underscores resilience. That’s the angle—the one clear story worth telling.

Step 3: Create a Simple Outline (Day 3, 20 Minutes)

Forget five-paragraph essays. A personal essay works best with three moves:

Hook: Open by dropping the reader into a moment (the bus broke down, the cake collapsed, my favorite Jibbitz fell off my Croc).
Turn: Explain why it mattered (what they realized, how they changed).
Echo: Circle back with an ending image or “aha!” thought that lingers.
Journalists rely on this kind of structure under deadline because it keeps the story moving. Students can use it to stay focused and avoid wandering off into “say everything” mode.

Step 4: Draft Without Preciousness (Within the Next 48 Hours)

One of the first lessons every journalist learns about writing on deadline is not to be precious. The article is running tomorrow whether you love it or not. Students should take the same approach.

Encourage your teen to write a “bad” draft—650 words that simply exist. Remind them: it’s clay, not marble. Start by putting it on the table. Shaping it can come later.

Bonus Step: Don’t Panic

If your teen is stuck, it doesn’t mean they’re lazy or unprepared. It means they’re human. Writing is hard, even for people who do it every day. But with a few clear steps and a little support, they can move from paralyzed to productive in just a couple of days.

That’s why I started The Essay Desk: to bring the skills I’ve honed in journalism into the admissions process, and to make this stage of the journey a little less overwhelming for families. Our goal is simple: help students find one story that feels true to them—and tell it well.

So however soon the deadline is, there’s never a need to panic. With a few prompts, a simple plan, and a little patience, that blinking cursor won’t stand a chance.