My Writing Brain
I recently wrote the article, My 30+1 Writing Resources. In the first draft, I listed my most crucial resource, my brain. This marvelous tool allows me to write, edit, and publish stories, but I did not include it because the single entry became too involved. Instead, I am dedicating an entire article to the topic.
Let’s begin at the beginning. Like everybody, I was conceived and then grew into a baby. My brain formed, and thoughts occurred. Soon, I did something for the first time. I fell asleep and had a dream. It was probably not impressive. I certainly do not remember. As I evolved, my eyes formed, and my dreams became more complex. Soon, I developed an imagination.
I remember creating many stories as a child and still think about those early concepts. They revolved around me doing exciting activities such as climbing trees, exploring trails, being on television shows, and playing with friends. Saturday morning cartoons typically inspired the basic plots.
Over time, my stories became longer and more complex. Later, I added more characters and introduced romance. I did not write any of these stories until a ninth-grade class assignment. It was about a boy and a cheetah living separate lives. I was proud of my creation and wish I had a copy, but a computer crash deleted all my high school efforts.
In college, I took a creative writing course and developed interesting content, but this was where my formal creative efforts ended. While writing fiction was fun, my life path was learning everything about electronics.
Now, I must take a step back and consider other writers. I assume their paths followed my beginning. The future authors, as kids, also enjoyed creating stories, but they wrote more. When others read their creations, they said, “Wow, that’s pretty good. You should try selling them.” The kids were inspired, and this devotion challenged their imagination. One day, the kid became an adult and showed their story to somebody, leading to a publication.
Instead, I used my ability to lull myself asleep and relieve boredom. I knew my story creation ability and felt using it for anything beyond amusement was suitable. Over the years, I developed four well-thought-out plots and would probably be doing this today, except for a healthy bout of unemployment that allowed me to become an author in 2017.
For this article, I wanted to document my story’s invention process. It begins with a single thought. This might include something I see or a topic I want to explore. It might have been something like making and driving a race car at a young age. Still, now my topics are more complex, like complex relationships, alien societies, unusual situations, or a unique character. For example, “What if there was a planet only inhabited by robots?” “A quiet history teacher who used to be a secret agent.” “What would happen if I went back in time and met my grandfather as a kid?” “How would an underwater society function?” It is important to note that these are single concepts instead of a plot. “The hero flies to a distant planet and saves the princess.”
Once I have a base for something, I take one small step forward. “The history teacher worked for the CIA.” Then, I relive the story from the beginning and alter the concept to make it more interesting. This is an iterative process, where I add and subtract elements until a plot forms. To explain, let’s examine one thoroughly vetted story I developed 20 years ago.
One day, my boss told me I was laid off. What a blow! I immediately left work and walked on the beach to calm my angry/sad thoughts. (Yes, this was during work hours, and I was wearing nice work clothes.) As I walked, I kicked the sand, muttered foul words about my company, and threw rocks at the waves. Along my path of misery, I wondered if anybody else was in the same situation. Not seeing anybody with a sign that read, “I was laid off. Ask me how.” I was inspired to invent a story.
A man was walking down the same beach while thinking about losing his job. Now what? Two angry women were also walking along the same beach. He saw their expressions, and they saw his.
He glared at them and pointed to a rock. Curious, the woman sat. He vented, and they vented. This was followed by silence and no eye contact. They walked to his car together, and the man apologized for venting. “What are you going to do now?” one woman asked. “Be here tomorrow.”
That evening, I thought about my little creation and relived the plot. In the process, I added details, changed dialog, and thought about what would happen next. This process continued for months.
It turns out that one woman was a banker and the other a biologist. They met in a yoga class. More plot. They had an idea to make money by starting a Hong Kong bank. More plot. The man, a computer programmer, wanted to help. More plot. They moved to Hong Kong and started a currency exchange bank, which was wildly successful. More plot. Umm? I guess they parted ways? Umm, I got nothing else. My story had a (in my humble opinion) great beginning and part of the middle. The ending was utterly worthless.
This is the fundamental flaw in my ability. I begin at the beginning and then build. Thus, the middle and ending never get enough attention. Eventually, I got bored and started working on a new concept.
To fill the story gaps, I rely on a different creative process. I ride my bike or hike while thinking about a specific story aspect. This might include motivation deficiency, a logic problem, or a weak character. “Why did Mitch want to rob a bank?” “What’s Sally going to do next?” “What would make Dan more interesting?” In these focused moments, I have found the memo recording function on my phone to be super helpful.
What I lack is the ability to initiate the spark. For example, I would be at a loss if you asked me to write a basic story about a boy and a unicorn. I doubt I could invent a D-grade story even with a year of focused effort. I know some people have this ability, but it is far beyond what I can conceive.
I read many articles about the creative writing process to improve my ability. Some writers begin with a strong character and wrap a plot around it. Others focus on the setting or historical time and then create a plot that fits. I imagine that is how Western and period romance authors begin their projects. Still, others write on the fly and then edit their creation down to something usable. Learning about other techniques was interesting, but my mind does not work that way.
One big lesson I learned is not to force writing. If I am not in the mood, I immediately stop. To me, writing is not like lifting weights. “Work through the pain, and you will get stronger.” I visualize it like taking a pleasure walk. The more leisurely walks I take, my body slowly improves, allowing longer walks.
Why spend effort on defining my creative mind? Anyone desiring to improve an aspect of their lives must understand their tools. For example, I spent years understanding the mathematics behind electronics. The same could be said of an auto mechanic learning about combustion chemistry or a portrait painter understanding perspective.
A writer only has their brain, and I have spent many hours thinking about thinking. Why did I do X? Why did that person do Y? What motivated Z? How do I develop ideas? What mistakes did my last story have? How can I improve my writing process?
Why did I write this article? Explaining how my chaotic mind works will not help anybody, but that was not the point. I wanted to provide a baseline of how I create, with the idea that my method would inspire others to think about their creative process. At the very least, I made you think.
You’re the best -Bill
January 22, 2025
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