When I’m stuck, I take my dog for a walk. I let my mind wander. It’s unfocused thought, giving my brain a bit more space to experiment without a goal. Writing, then, is like learning to be a sponge that never gets wrung out, always observing, absorbing, thinking.
And when the rough blob of an idea flits into my mind, I capture it—not with paper and quill, like the more romantic figures of the past, but with a note on my phone or an email to myself. Sometimes the idea turns out to be a dud. Other times, it takes some time to mature, then collides with another rough blob of an idea months later.
It works. And I swear by it, because I’ve learned the hard way that a forced idea, willed into existence while glowering at a blank page, will almost always end up being a dead rabbit that never had a chance.
This strikes me as something AI can't do--it can force ideas, but as Brian says, you'll end up with a dead rabbit?
I occasionally will "cop out" by writing a "three random things" post--three short subjects on things that caught my attention and that I feel I could write a few grafs about, but not expound on.
Except that, so far, 3 times out of 5, I start writing what's intended to be the first random thing, and find that once I've started I wind up with a complete article just about that subject, after all. Of the remaining 2 in 5, 1 in 5, it's the second "random thing" that turns long, and bumps out the first and third. Only that last chance in 5 actually winds up being a Three Random Things post.
In my day job as a software engineer, I allow myself a lot of fallow time. When I worked in an office, this was perilous, because it often looked like I was not actually working. If you're not actually typing code, you're not working, right? I was fortunate in that some bosses believed in and understood me when I told them my brain needs to set problems into the background and do other things sometimes, mainly because they saw that I not only produced good results but did so on time. Becoming a full-time remote worker (which I did long before the pandemic) broke me free from caring about who was looking over my shoulder and made this process more powerful.
It does mean that I spend a chunk of my day doomscrolling, but the work gets done, well, and on time. That's all that should matter.
I especially have ideas come to me just before falling asleep and when I first wake up. Sometimes they come in droves and I need to either jot them down on my phone or record a voice memo.
Then comes the task of leafing through these ideas at a later date. This is the weak link in the chain, because often these revised snippets make far less sense and/or have less of an impact on me than when they first came to me.
But every once in awhile they do connect and I the basics for a new song or writing of some kind.
The key for me is to always challenge myself, “How can I improve on conveying this thought or idea to someone else? How will this serve them?”
I believe we’re all here to serve each other in one way or another. We’re often paid to do it through our careers and vocations or we serve each other through voluntary tasks. But we really do need each other.
These ideas are an extension of this need; the need to serve.
Do I do things for myself? All the time! But they rarely satisfy or result in an overwhelming sense of fulfillment.
When Stars Fill Half the Sky is one of my must ambitious bodies of work, because it’s a story (a novel) of a personal journey in discovering this truth.
I don’t know who will appreciate or who my audience will be, but it is first and foremost a journey for me.
And I am so glad I’ve come across writers like you who understand this process. Blessings to you.
Brian, the kind of creativity you describe is taking seemingly disparate ideas and concepts and finding linkages between them that have otherwise been missed or are not readily apparent. Stating it in this way sounds too formulaic, but that is the path. The real question that you address is how does that happen? I completely agree that is comes from being exposed to and having interests in other subject fields beyond one’s expertise. Be it history, psychology, political science, math, physics, literature it all can come together in ways that shape how we think and make connections. These connections of happen at strange moments when I am not trying to look for those connections. Could be in a long ride, listening to music, or reading something completely different. No matter the how, I have made a career out of it blending history, economics, engineering, and even elements of psychology.
When I’m stuck, I take my dog for a walk. I let my mind wander. It’s unfocused thought, giving my brain a bit more space to experiment without a goal. Writing, then, is like learning to be a sponge that never gets wrung out, always observing, absorbing, thinking.
And when the rough blob of an idea flits into my mind, I capture it—not with paper and quill, like the more romantic figures of the past, but with a note on my phone or an email to myself. Sometimes the idea turns out to be a dud. Other times, it takes some time to mature, then collides with another rough blob of an idea months later.
It works. And I swear by it, because I’ve learned the hard way that a forced idea, willed into existence while glowering at a blank page, will almost always end up being a dead rabbit that never had a chance.
This strikes me as something AI can't do--it can force ideas, but as Brian says, you'll end up with a dead rabbit?
I occasionally will "cop out" by writing a "three random things" post--three short subjects on things that caught my attention and that I feel I could write a few grafs about, but not expound on.
Except that, so far, 3 times out of 5, I start writing what's intended to be the first random thing, and find that once I've started I wind up with a complete article just about that subject, after all. Of the remaining 2 in 5, 1 in 5, it's the second "random thing" that turns long, and bumps out the first and third. Only that last chance in 5 actually winds up being a Three Random Things post.
In my day job as a software engineer, I allow myself a lot of fallow time. When I worked in an office, this was perilous, because it often looked like I was not actually working. If you're not actually typing code, you're not working, right? I was fortunate in that some bosses believed in and understood me when I told them my brain needs to set problems into the background and do other things sometimes, mainly because they saw that I not only produced good results but did so on time. Becoming a full-time remote worker (which I did long before the pandemic) broke me free from caring about who was looking over my shoulder and made this process more powerful.
It does mean that I spend a chunk of my day doomscrolling, but the work gets done, well, and on time. That's all that should matter.
I especially have ideas come to me just before falling asleep and when I first wake up. Sometimes they come in droves and I need to either jot them down on my phone or record a voice memo.
Then comes the task of leafing through these ideas at a later date. This is the weak link in the chain, because often these revised snippets make far less sense and/or have less of an impact on me than when they first came to me.
But every once in awhile they do connect and I the basics for a new song or writing of some kind.
The key for me is to always challenge myself, “How can I improve on conveying this thought or idea to someone else? How will this serve them?”
I believe we’re all here to serve each other in one way or another. We’re often paid to do it through our careers and vocations or we serve each other through voluntary tasks. But we really do need each other.
These ideas are an extension of this need; the need to serve.
Do I do things for myself? All the time! But they rarely satisfy or result in an overwhelming sense of fulfillment.
When Stars Fill Half the Sky is one of my must ambitious bodies of work, because it’s a story (a novel) of a personal journey in discovering this truth.
I don’t know who will appreciate or who my audience will be, but it is first and foremost a journey for me.
And I am so glad I’ve come across writers like you who understand this process. Blessings to you.
Pete
Brian, the kind of creativity you describe is taking seemingly disparate ideas and concepts and finding linkages between them that have otherwise been missed or are not readily apparent. Stating it in this way sounds too formulaic, but that is the path. The real question that you address is how does that happen? I completely agree that is comes from being exposed to and having interests in other subject fields beyond one’s expertise. Be it history, psychology, political science, math, physics, literature it all can come together in ways that shape how we think and make connections. These connections of happen at strange moments when I am not trying to look for those connections. Could be in a long ride, listening to music, or reading something completely different. No matter the how, I have made a career out of it blending history, economics, engineering, and even elements of psychology.