Many people I meet who want to write are stymied by the idea that the writer must be someone who always knows where the story is, and how to get it out onto the keyboard or paper. Maybe this is true for some writers, but not always; and sometimes, for writers for whom it is true, it’s not always true.
Which means, there is hope.
So what can a person do when they want to tell a story, but don’t quite know how to bridge the gap between the blank page and a finished story?
Well, it’s like they say about how to get to Carnegie Hall: practice.
That’s all well and good, but “they” never say what to practice. And therein lies the challenge.
I’m sure that if you’re reading this, and you want to write, you’ve already discovered websites, books, and other places that have lots of ideas on the writing side of things. I’m not going to rehash that. What I want to talk about, instead, is how to coax the muse that you already have, when she is hiding from you and laughing at your blank page. When all the other advice fails (use writing prompts, writing sprints, outline your idea, list things in the setting of your story to get the picture sharper in your mind, morning pages, journal exercises, etc.), what do you do?
When in doubt, knit.
Or, do some other repetitive but creative task. It could be any of a hundred things: weed the garden, wash the dishes, mend your pants hem or put buttons back on your shirts, paint something, do cross-stitch, straighten a junk drawer, play some music. What happens is that you lull your left-brain sequential mind by doing something on autopilot. Have you ever set out from home to drive somewhere near your office and accidentally take the turns that lead you right to work? Or, when taking a shower, have you ever had an idea pop into your head?
That principle works here just as well. When you let your back-brain noodle on a story idea, while focusing your fore-brain on whatever non-stressful, repetitive task you have, you are engaging your subconscious mind on solving your problem for you.
Okay, so you’ve knit for an hour, and still no story. What then?
I’d suggest either keep knitting, if you’re really into it, and see where it takes you. Alternatively, if that’s not working, then sit down at the keyboard or notebook (DO NOT GO ONLINE), and just stare at the page. Wait for at least a minute, preferably up to five.
What you are waiting for is the still, small voice inside you that is where story comes from. You might see a shade of hair color, an eye, a voice speaking, or an idea for where the action takes place. If you’re lucky, you’ll see an entire scene (Night, cathedral sacristy, organ music so loud it makes your teeth vibrate, old woman, shawl, in pew two to the front of you, sobbing quietly…). Whatever it is, no matter how small it is, type or write it down. Then write the next thing.
You are NOT after an organized, left-brain sequential story at all here. You are simply writing down what you see of the story you are telling, that’s all. The outline, the order, the editing – all of these are tasks for the left brain, and they have their place and time. This, though, is not either.
I suggest doing this sit-and-listen for at least fifteen minutes, up to about thirty. I use a digital kitchen timer, myself, but you could use anything that works – the only thing I don’t suggest is your eye on the clock, because that will remind you of the minutes passing. Right-brain time is unbounded, fluid. You don’t want to interfere with your process by worrying about when it will be done, when will you have the words, wow this is taking so long, holy cow that was fast, etc. You want to be listening and watching for the story in your mind.
If, after all of that, you still don’t “feel” the story, then set it aside for the day. Go do something else. If you have chores or work to do, even better – something that does engage the left brain, that you can analyze and focus on. Then, the next day, try the process over again. Knit, or crochet, or paint, or organize a second junk drawer, etc.
Establish a routine of this, and the muse won’t laugh at you anymore. She’ll stride out of wherever she strides from, grab you by the throat, and yell at you, “Write this, you!”
And what else do you do? You write.
Carnegie Hall, here we come.
Lol! Definitely good to do something else for a while. Jess Dee teases me that I keep my plots under the couch because every time I go clean the house I figure out my plot issues.
LOL, Viv! That makes perfect sense to me, actually. When we do repetitive tasks it lets our subconscious mind work on stuff and voila! Plot holes are plugged.
Hi, Kym! Yeah, I know what you mean – I write notes sometimes when I’m driving. I don’t have to look at my handwriting, but that doesn’t mean the notes are particularly neat. It’s a good way to figure out things, though.
I usually manage to sort things out as I’m falling asleep or while driving. I have hundreds of cryptic little notes saying things like “calls her goddess” and “back to motel.” If anyone ever stole my car or came across the notes I’ve shoved in whatever book I’m reading, they’d think I was a loon.
Of course, they’d be right, but that’s beside the point.
Oops. I put your response under Viv’s comment. Sorry!
But thanks for commenting on my post; I sure appreciate it!
The shower is one that works for me, otherwise it is house cleaning so I feel like something useful is being done. I think we are the ones that heap on the pressure and need to remember to step back every so often.
Great reminder!
The shower worked for my mom, too. She would shout for a paper and pen and scribble down advertising jingles that way. It made it weird to hear her on the radio because I’d have this flash of her in the shower, yet there she was on a public station… She said showers were great for getting ideas.
I crochet instead of knit, but I totally agree! Maybe I need to go find my hook…
I love crochet! I’m not nearly as good at it (my last scarf was… freeform), but it’s a lot of fun. I hope to get better as I do it more!