Friday, June 25, 2010

The Creative Mind (Part Six) Or: I Never Asked to be John Grisham

We're continuing our series based on the work of psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihaly. Last time, we looked at one particular implication of the polarity Imagination/Fantasy and Rooted sense of reality. Here's a second:



Stop me if you've heard this one before, but I'd like to be a published writer someday. A Full Time published writer.

And, among those who like to scribble words, I'm pretty sure that puts me in the majority.

Singers and songwriters want recording contracts.

Actors and actresses want film deals.

Painters want their work displayed in galleries.

I don't know what Paris Hilton wants.....

But when we move on from the act of creating something, and start thinking about what to do with it, we have to balance this imagination/reality dichotomy.

Most creative types produce their work with at least the hope that other people may eventually see/hear/experience it.

And (come on, now....) you wouldn't mind getting paid.

Apart from crass materialism, the truth is: it takes money for the simple things in life.... like eating.

So we write our words, we paint or sculpt, we audition for American Idol, dreaming that someone will throw piles of cash at us, so we can do what we love Full Time.

I'd love to do that, wouldn't you?

Dreams vs Hard Reality.

In this act of creating, I think we need to favor the Imagination/Fantasy side. Once we've finished, and we're glowing with pride at what we've brought forth, a dash of Rooted Reality is in order.

Personally, I must be a closet masochist. I don't mean to be, but I do seem to have a knack for making things difficult on myself. Follow this logic, and see if you don't agree:

I write. That eliminates the percentage of the world's population who never pick up a book. And in today's video-saturated world, that percentage seems to be growing.

I write fiction. That eliminates the percentage of readers (a large one) who only read non-fiction.

I write fiction from a Christian worldview. Big drop off there, Bucko.....

I write Speculative Christian fiction.  For those unfamiliar, that's translated "weird." Christian fiction for those craving Fantasy, Sci Fi, horror, supernatural.... Which cuts the field down to approximately the size of Bluejacket, Oklahoma.

Oh. And just to add a bit of challenge, I tend to prefer stories that straddle the line between literary and commercial.

That leaves me with a core audience of roughly 5 people. (On the plus side, that does simplify my marketing plan--I can just call 'em up.....)

Think I should quit my day job?  Dreams vs Hard Realities.....  Creative people need both to survive (with sanity intact).

Where's your balance between Fantasy and Hard Truth?

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

The Creative Mind (Part Five)

The fourth polarity of the creative individual: Balancing imagination/fantasy with a rooted sense of reality.


There are several implications to this one. We'll look at one today, and one next time.

1) All fictional worlds depend, to greater or lesser degrees, on our real world. That is, reality is the station from which we depart, when we move into the realm of fiction.

It's impossible (I think...) to create a fictional world that draws on nothing from the world we know. If such a story could be constructed, could we understand it, having no frame of reference?

We connect with the rabbits of Watership Down, or with Ray Bradbury's Martians, because they display elements we can relate to.

Most creative ideas begin with what already is, and then move from there to what could be.


For all its dazzling imagination/fantasy, Harry Potter works because it is rooted in solid British reality--boarding schools in the country. London, and trains and double-decker buses. And the universally painful process of growing up.

The flip side is, while good stories are rooted in known reality--reality rarely makes a good story.

That's where imagination/fantasy come in.

You start with reality...then you play "what if" games with it.

Reality is: there are other galaxies in the universe.
What if: A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

Reality is: Property and inheritance  were vitally importance in the England of the 1800's
What if: Two young women...Elinor and Marianne, for instance...were suddenly left with no father and no inheritance?

Reality is: Racial discrimination.
What if: A young girl named Scout is forced to learn this hard truth?

Fiction is a dance between what is and what if.


More on this creative dance, next time...

Friday, June 18, 2010

The Creative Mind (Part Four)

We're looking at how creative individuals have complex personalities...the ability to be more than one thing.

The next polarity of Csikszentmihaly: Playfulness and Discipline.


Researchers in creativity note that the process involves a blend of sheer fun, and hard work. Highly creative types embrace both ends of the spectrum.

A playful spirit allows us to follow our whims. To explore a story thread and see where it goes...and to enjoy that process. To imagine, as children do, without fear of mistakes.

Ah, but if that's all we do.....

"I had this great idea for a novel, but I never did anything with it..."

"I've written a few chapters, but life is so busy..."

"I get enthusiastic about a new writing project, but after a week or so that energy fades and the project just sits."

Discipline...

Discipline means I will write today. And tomorrow. And tomorrow.

I'll set goals and stick with them.

I'll write, regardless of how I "feel."

I'll make time to read--study the work of others who excel at my craft.

I'll do the hard things, as well as the fun things.

Years ago, I read an interview with singer/songwriter Amy Grant. She relayed the story of a time early in her career when she complained to her manager that public appearances and time commitments and deadlines weren't "fun" anymore.

Her wise manager looked her straight in the eye, and told her to decide--right now--how serious she was about a music career. A professional, he said, does what needs to be done, regardless of how "fun" it may seem.

Children are playful and inventive. But when the game stops being fun, they quit and go on to something else. Mature adults get the work done, even when they don't feel like it.

Highly creative individuals find a way to tap into both.

How are you doing?

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

The Creative Mind (Part Three)

We're looking at psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihaly's thoughts on Creativity...and how creative individuals transcend the boundaries of personality...The importance of being both/and...

Csikszentmihaly's second polarity is: Naive and Smart.

Or, to put it in cognitive psychology parlance: Divergent and Convergent thinking.

Divergent thinking is fluid. Flexible. Wandering down rabbit trails and making connections where none existed before. "Naive" in the sense that you're blissfully unaware of The Rules....so you're free to color outside the lines. Exploration and Curiosity.

Convergent thinking is the kind measured by standard IQ tests, and correlates with how well you do in academic settings. It's about rational judgment, logic, and evaluating ideas.

In writerly terms: First drafts are Divergent thinking. Second (and subsequent) drafts are Convergent thinking.

You have to make space for the Artiste and the Editor living inside your head. And make sure neither one bullies the other.

How's your balance?

(Special Tip: No extra charge....

These concepts can help your credibility as a writer. The next time your significant other/child/relation/friend interrupts your creative groove--or catches you staring off into space--try this: "Not now, please. I'm engaged in Divergent Thinking." They may be awed by your Importance, whisper "sorry," and tiptoe backwards out of the room, closing the door quietly.)

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Just Because: Life Under the Glass

From time to time, I post something Just Because, which may or may not relate to our topic of Psychology and fiction. Today...one of my favorite authors gives eloquent voice to something in my heart that I lack words to express...





"Do you know why books like this are so important? Because they have quality. And what does the word quality mean? To me it means texture. This book has pores. It has features. This book can go under the microscope. You'd find life under the glass, streaming past in infinite profusion. The more pores, the more truthfully recorded details of life per square inch you can get on a sheet of paper, the more 'literary' you are. That's my definition, anyway. Telling detail.Fresh detail. The good writers touch life often. The mediocre ones run a quick hand over her. The bad ones rape her and leave her for the flies."

Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

Friday, June 11, 2010

The Creative Mind (Part Two)

So...

We know from studies of "creative types" that there is no single "creative personality." That's good news, because it doesn't exclude me...or you.

But psychologists who've examined the topic have found certain traits among persons of greater creative achievement.

The most important are Complexity and Flexibility, and for our purposes, those two are close cousins.

In essence, what researchers have found is that highly creative types are more skillful at moving freely, fluidly, along the full spectrum of human personality. Because of this ability to adapt, they are perhaps more complex than the average human being (and we know how complex humans tend to be!)

In his book, Creativity (1996) Mihaly Csikszentmihaly, who has spent his career as a psychologist studying various aspects of creativity, achievement, and high performance, expands on this concept.

Based on his years of study, he argues that highly creative persons present paradoxes of complexity: When it comes to their behavior, instead of being this OR that, they tend to be this AND that.

Csikszentmihaly discusses a number of these "personality paradoxes." Let's look at them, in series, and see what we can learn:

Great physical energy, and often at rest.

Creativity requires great effort (Profound, huh? I know, that's what you come here for....)

Mental effort, physical effort, emotional effort. Long hours, intense concentration. Lots and lots of what Flannery O'Connor called "get."

To put the cookies on the bottom shelf: Highly creative types can't be lazy.

Except, sometimes you need to be.

Csikszentmihaly's point about polarity requires a creative person to move between these two states, with some skill at knowing when each is required.

For a season, you may have to "give it all you've got." For a season, you may have nothing to give.

Sing with me now: To everything (turn, turn, turn)...

Einstein worked ferociously hard creating his theories (something to do with "time" and "relatives." You can look it up). He would even work at his desk while rocking his daughter's cradle with one foot.

Then he escaped for long weekends, sailboating on the lakes of Switzerland.

Some have noted that highly creative individuals are more likely to need afternoon naps (you're welcome for that piece of ammunition).

Intense energy and effort.....AND....rest and relaxation. If you're serious about your creativity, you'd better get serious about both.

How are you doing on this first polarity? Leaning to one side or the other? How do you boost your energy? What helps you unwind?

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

The Creative Mind (Part One)

Creativity--the ability to formulate something that has not previously existed--is a whole branch of psychological study unto itself. And the researchers who explore this attribute have something to say to any serious practitioner of creativity: Such as the Writer.

In this (long) series, we'll begin to unpack the topic. But, as with all aspects of psychology, there are points of contention and argument, and lots of blank spaces. We're a long way from a complete understanding.

First, let's clarify one foundational concept:

A single, definable, "creative personality" does not exist.

In their review of the research, Tardif and Sternberg (1988) noted that no single personality trait has emerged from studies as the key to creativity.


And Mihaly Csikszentmihaly (1996), a noted researcher in Positive Psychology topics, said this:

"The point is that you cannot assume the mantle of creativity just by assuming a certain personality style. One can be creative by living like a monk, or by burning the candle at both ends. Michelangelo was not overly fond of women, while Picasso couldn't get enough of them. Both changed the domain of Painting, even thought their personalities had little in common."

This is vitally important, I think, because we're prone to stereotypes (have you noticed?)

Maybe you've always thought of "artistic types" as a little offbeat? A little loopy? (Technical psych term, there...) Inconstant? Moody? Shy & Retiring? Haughty? Sensitive? Flamboyant?

Some creative people are these things...Just as some stockbrokers, or retail clerks, or librarians, or firemen, or Sunday School teachers may share those traits, too. But many creative people aren't these things. And being Sensitive, or Moody, or a little loopy does not give you Instant Creativity.

I hope this frees you up a bit to be yourself...whatever that may be.

Writers...and other creative-types, come in all flavors. Including Vanilla.

Saw a guy riding a bike the other day, in the city where I work. He was dressed in a red shirt, blue pants, and yellow sneakers. A walking Color Wheel. In my world, that's a tad showy.... but that doesn't mean I can draw any meaningful conclusions. "There's a another weird artist."

If anything, your personality wouldn't determine whether or not you are creative...but it might influence the particular style in which your creativity exhibits itself. Out-of-the-box personalities are liable to create something really "out there"....while more conservative types will express themselves within carefully drawn boundaries. Outgoing personalities may be more drawn to performing arts...acting, for instance. While introverted personalities may prefer something more reclusive...say, writing.

But note that we're not saying that all writers are introverted and reclusive. We're saying that introverted and reclusive-type personalities would be more likely to pick a form of creativity that doesn't put them on stage in the bright lights.

So--please--don't put on airs. Don't act the part of a Writer (whatever that means to you) in hopes that your Muse will sing louder. Don't adopt a "persona" just to give your PR/Marketing staff grist for the publicity mill.

Be who you are.....Even if it's Vanilla.  We'll understand.


references:  Creativity (1996) Mihaly Csikszentmihaly; Harper Collins Books

Tardif and Sternberg (1988) What do we know about creativity? In R.J. Sternberg (ed) The Nature of Creativity; 429-440 New York: Cambridge University Press

Friday, June 4, 2010

Grief and the Searching Phenomenon

Came across this the other day, and it struck me as something that would make for good dramatization.

A lot of research has been conducted on the grieving process. Most of it in the context of losing a person who is dear to us, but don't forget that we (and our characters) "grieve" other losses as well--pets, jobs, our youth, cherished dreams...

So, what's this Searching Phenomenon?

Bowlby (1961) was one of the early researchers in the field of Death and Dying, and he described the "urge to recover the lost object."

This desperate need to recover what was lost takes many forms, and as fiction writers these are helpful to explore, as they are methods of "showing" grief--as opposed to merely "telling."

In her book, Grief, Dying and Death, Therese Rando outlines some of the ways the searching phenomenon plays out:

1) Physical Restlessness.  It may be difficult for the griever to sit still. She may try to sit, but pop back up quickly, moving from place to place or room to room. While it may appear "aimless," there is an aim--she is "searching" for the one she will never find again. She may physically reach out and touch things, exploring her environment, looking for what is no longer there.

2) A draw towards objects and places.  "Searching" can cause the griever to gravitate towards environmental reminders of the deceased. If you (or your characters) associate a certain room, or a city park, a particular chair or a cherished object (a piece of jewelry, a football, a doll, etc) with the lost one, you will find yourself drawn towards that, "looking" for the person. We recently discussed scents in a series of posts. Clothing, especially clothing that still retains the scent of the departed, can be a powerful emotional magnet. In a heartbreaking sense, the griever is "searching" the empty clothes for the lost one who "should" be inside them, while gaining some sense of comfort from "finding" their scent.

3) The griever may experience the illusion of "seeing" the lost one. For instance, in a crowd, someone with their back turned may spark a reaction.... "It's her!"

4) Impulses to speak to, or do things for, the departed, as if they were still alive.  Examples include picking up the phone intending to call the loved one, or thinking "It's time for John's five o'clock medicine."

5) Calling.  The griever may cry out to the lost one, either vocally or silently. Wanting desperately for them to answer. Think about the way a parent might call out anxiously to a child who had wandered away...Calling a person's name is an instinctual part of searching.

Rondo describes this searching process as a necessary part of the grieving: "It is only by the repeated frustration of these intense longings for the deceased that the finality of death is made real."

Grief is a process of searching, not finding, feeling the emptiness of that failure....and repeating.

Important concepts to keep in mind when your fiction takes you into territories of loss.

references: Bowlby, J., Processes of mourning. International Journal of Psycho-Analysis. 1961, 42, 317-340

Grief, Dying, and Death: Clinical Interventions of Caregivers; Therese Rando, Research Press Company, Champaign, IL 1984. 

 

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

What's That Smell? (Part Four)

One last word on scents (for now), and it involves what we could call: Scent-prints.

Not to get All Technical on you, but I find this fascinating. This knowledge might even win you something on a game show. I don't write a lot of Sci-Fi, but if I did, I'd be all over this concept.

Every biological feature of your body has an unseen, genetic manifestation (the genotype), and an outward, physical manifestation (the phenotype).  If you have brown, curly hair, then you have the invisible code for it (genotype) and the visible manifestation of that code (the hair itself--the phenotype).

Our immune systems are no exception.

A string of over 50 genes, along a single chromosome, contains the programming for our immune systems, and this cluster is called the Major Histocompatibility Complex (MHC). The really cool thing is, MHC genes are the most unique biological code we know. Identical twins excepted, no one shares their MHC pattern with anyone else on the planet...now or ever.

So the MHC is the invisible set of instructions for your immune system (genotype). Guess what the outward manifestation (phenotype) is?

Your body scent.

Yep. True story. You have a body scent shared by no one. Ever. (Unless you have an identical twin hanging 'round someplace).

Your particular scent is unique to you. And it is the scent of your immune system. (Now that you know this, amaze your friends at your next party.  "Does my immune system smell off to you?")

Here's another interesting factoid: Opposites do attract. In studies, researchers have found that people are more attracted to potential romantic partners that display different MHC-prints from our own. The psychology of attraction is closely linked to the sense of smell, and we tend not to be drawn (romantically) towards close relatives. Biologically, it's because they don't smell differently enough from ourselves to activate attraction.

What families do share, based on similar MHC-prints, is comfort smelling. Mmm...you smell like one of my clan. You smell safe.

For writers:

a) If you write Sci-Fi, use this. It's a big concept, and in the future it will move beyond Science Fiction and become Science Fact. Since each MHC code is unique, it will play a role in detection, security procedures, genetic manipulation, etc. Lots of story ideas there.... Please send royalties.

b) Both men and women report being drawn to items (clothing, in particular) that have the scent-print of their beloveds on them. E.g., sleeping with a husband's shirt when he is away. A nice little detail you might be able to work into a story sometime.

What are your ideas for using personal scents in stories?

reference: The Scent of Desire, by Rachel Herz; 2007 (William Morrow)

Friday, May 28, 2010

What's That Smell? (Part Three)

How do I smell thee? Let me count the ways....

One fascinating area of perceptual research involves the ways in which human being communicate (often subliminally) through the olfactory sense.

That old adage about dogs being able to "smell fear" on us? True. But did you know that humans can also recognize the smell of fear? And of happiness.

A couple of researchers at Rice University in Texas conducted a neat study to prove this: (Chan and Haviland-Jones, 2000).

They asked a group of male and female college students to watch portions of happy and frightening movies, while wearing gauze pads under their armpits. This allowed the researchers to collect samples of Male Happy Sweat, Male Fear Sweat, Female Happy Sweat, and Female Fear Sweat.

When we experience emotions, it changes the biochemical composition of our sweat--when we're afraid, we emit different protein molecules than when we are happy.

Once they had their sweat samples, the researchers recruited a different group of students--male and female--to sniff each sample and try to identify it.

(You gotta love those college students...they'll try anything!)

The results? People were surprisingly good at being able to "sniff out" these differences.

1) The most easily identified scent was Male Fear Sweat. Both male and female "receivers" picked this one up right away.

2) Female "receivers" were equally skillful at identifying happy scents from both male and female donors.

3) Male "receivers" were better at recognizing happy females than frightened females.

Part of our "Intuition" of emotions...particularly female intuition, comes from our ability to a) detect and b) identify chemical differences in the composition of our sweat.

Females (in general) tend to test better on skills of olfactory perception. They're more sensitive and responsive to scents. (This could explain why my wife brought home a package of scented razors not long ago...Marketers are not dummies.) And when you consider how closely the olfaction system is tied to the emotions, this makes sense (scents?).

For Writers to consider:

1) You could show animals in your story identifying and responding to human emotions.
2) Since olfaction is typically secondary to vision in humans, it might be interesting to portray a character (or even a whole race, if you write Sci-Fi) who rely more on smells than the normal human.
3) Science is full of fun, quirky experiments. Consider involving one of your characters in an experiment as a minor/major part of the plot. Michael Gruber's novel The Forgery of Venus, is a good example. When the protagonist (a painter) takes an experimental drug to enhance his creativity, it has unexpected consequences.
4) When describing fear and terror, don't forget the sense of smell. One of Flannery O'Connor's short stories (Wildcat) makes great use of this. The protagonist is blind...and the tension builds as man and animal become aware of each others presence largely through smell.

references: Rachel Herz, 2007; The Scent of Desire (William Morrow)

Chan, D, and Haviland-Jones, J. (2000) Human Olfactory Communication of Emotion. Perception and Motor Skills, 91, 771-781 

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

What's That Smell? (Part Two)

Continuing with our discussion of how we perceive smells:

It's interesting to learn that smell preferences are not innate.

The easiest way to check this is to study babies--If our likes/dislikes for smells were hard-wired, then newborns and very young children would show the same patterns of preference that adults do, right from the start.

But they don't...

Herz (2007) explains how infants actually show a preference for the smell of feces, but they don't seem bothered by things adults would consider very unpleasant (rancid cheese); conversely, they don't show any particular favoritism for smells that most adults would identify as pleasant (banana).

Herz notes: "It is not until around age eight that children begin to match the responses of adults in their culture."

And even then, there is wide variability.

The U.S. Army has tried (and failed) to produce a universal "Stink Bomb"--something that could replace the more dangerous method of tear gas when it became necessary to disperse a crowd.

Unfortunately, there is no universally repugnant odor.

Really? Apparently so... A few examples:

Some tribal cultures put dung in their hair as a cosmetic.

In earlier times, before the advent of refrigeration, rotten meat and fish were often served. Accounts from that period suggest that the odor and flavor of rotten food could actually be preferred by some, as it was considered more intense. (I'll bet it was!)

And in her book The Natural History of the Senses, Diane Ackerman describes the smell of durian fruit as a cross between "a sewer and a grave." Yet people in Southeast Asia consider it a delicacy.

Smell preferences are learned, not inborn.

The key is first associations: What were you feeling when you first encountered a new smell? (Remember from Part One: Our sense of smell and our emotions are tightly linked.)

(It's interesting that the closest thing to a universally preferred smell is Vanilla--and the chemical components of vanilla are present in human breast milk, as well as many prepared baby formulas. First associations with comfort and nurturing.)

For Writers to consider:

1) Could one of your characters loooove a scent that many people find unpleasant?

2) Could two of your characters argue over whether a scent is pleasant or unpleasant?

3) Could one of your characters put dung in her hair? (Just kidding...unless you actually write tribal stories or prehistoric epics like Clan of the Cave Bear. Notions of cleanliness were different back then, before Head and Shoulders shampoo commercials.)

4) Particular smell preferences (and how intense those preferences are) can be another way of differentiating characters...and might even play a minor (or major) role in your plot.

What about you? Anything you love to smell that others generally avoid? Or scents you can't stand that others tend to enjoy?

reference: Rachel Herz, 2007; The Scent of Desire (William Morrow)

Friday, May 21, 2010

What's That Smell? (Part One)

It's a piece of Standard Writing Advice (SWA)--and a good one--not to ignore the sense of smell when describing the fictional world. Let's spend some time getting better acquainted with this underrated stepchild of the senses.

First, olfaction is not only given short shrift by writers--it tends to be held in lower regard by humans in general.

World languages, for instance, consistently have fewer words for smelling than for any other sensation.

And when people are asked to rank the five senses in terms of which they would prefer to lose (assuming they had to lose one), smell typically tops the charts as being most expendable.

(Try this experiment around the office, or at your next PTA meeting. If the five senses were Survivor contestants, Smell would get tossed off the island first.)

What many don't realize, however, is that when humans lose their sense of smell, it can have devastating effects on their well-being.

Anosmia (smell-blindness) is the term, and it can result from exposure to certain chemicals, the formation of nasal polyps, or head injuries (particularly hard blows to the face). It can also be genetic, present at birth. In addition, some individuals have this difficulty only with specific odors...but they can readily smell everything else.

While some persons are able to cope well with this limitation, for many it has profound impact on their emotions and sense of life-satisfaction. In the long term, depression and mood disorders are more common in those who have lost the sense of smell, than in those who have gone blind.

(Interesting note: Depression is commonly seen in Parkinson's patients, and the loss of smell can be one of the early symptoms of Parkinson's.)

The reason for this connection between smell and emotional well-being seems clear: Humans are hard-wired that way.

The same neural structure of the brain--the limbic system--is responsible for interpreting olfactory signals and for activating emotions. In fact, one of the names for this part of the brain is the Rhinencephalon (literally, the "Nose-Brain").

Within this limbic system, the hot-spot of olfaction and emotion is the almond-shaped amygdala. Using brain-imaging technology, we can see that when we experience a scent, the amygdala activates, helping us both to the identify the smell, and connect it with emotions.

Researcher Dr. Rachel Herz, in her book The Scent of Desire (William Morrow, 2007), says this: "No other sensory system has this kind of priviledged and direct access to the part of the brain that controls our emotions."

A few applications for writers to consider:

1) When describing scenes, characters, objects, etc... Don't neglect the sense of smell.


2) Sensitivity to smell (or not) is a character trait. Some persons have very keen noses, others (Anosmics) cannot smell at all. This ability (or lack) may be another element you can use to differentiate characters.

3) If want your characters (and therefore, your readers) to feel emotion, understand the power that fragrance has to impact this. Show your characters reacting emotionally to good/bad smells.

More on the psychology of how we perceive smells, next time...

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

This Is Not A Drill

I was reading a collection of Flannery O'Connor's letters last night (Collected Works, Library of America, 1988 p1013), and came across a reference to Writing Exercises.

Writing to a friend in December of 1956, she commented, "Experiment but for heaven's sake don't go writing excercises. You will never be interested in anything that is just an exercise and there is no reason you should."

She went on to suggest that anything you write should have the "promise of being whole."

Myself, I'm in Flannery's camp. Never had much luck creating isolated paragraphs or scenes, without the context of a story to give it meaning. But I can see both sides.

Some people may see it as a freeing experience: No pressure, no expectations of creating something worth saving. And that freedom from pressure may allow the necessary breathing space in which to improve a particular element (e.g., "write a scene in which two characters disagree, but neither wants to openly admit the conflict").


What do you think? Are writing exercises a necessary part of your craft, like a musician practicing scales? Or do they strike you as artificial?

Friday, May 14, 2010

Milton Erickson, Abused Children, and the "Always-a-Robin" Syndrome (Part Five)

We've been talking about using observant details, and last time we discussed two practical steps the writer can take to increase his or her skills in that area.

Today, let's finish out the series by tackling that last step:

3) Select carefully and thoughtfully, based on your audience and genre

This is pretty intuitive...Much of it is what I call Standard Writing Advice (SWA).....  That doesn't make it bad advice... it just means that it's frequently repeated by a host of writing teachers (I figure if I hear the same concept from 5 or more sources, it's SWA).

a) Pay attention to the needs of your audience. Tom Clancy's readers expect plenty of techno-detail (like the inner workings of an atomic bomb). Nora Roberts, not so much.

b) As a gross generalization, literary fiction demands more detailed description than series westerns, series romance, series anything.

c) Page count counts. In a epic-length excursion like Moby Dick, you can afford a chapter of detail into the life and times of Cetaceans (admit it, you skipped it anyway...). In a 175-page YA novel, feel free to leave that out.

d) Don't stop to worry about robins in your first draft. But later, substitute something less commonplace.

e) Get it right. (Soapbox Warning!) I cringe every time an author mixes up the professional roles of the psychiatrist and the psychologist. Or worse yet, (As I once found in a bad Christian novel) freely alternating between the two, as if they were synonymous. That sound you hear is your credibility falling. Because whether it's true or not, it looks like you didn't care enough to do your homework.

Read up on that particular kind of gun. Do some research into your character's chosen profession. What exactly does that bird's call sound like?

I doubt if it's humanly possible to get every detail right in a novel-length work, but I don't think it hurts to make that your goal...Because someone out there knows about the inner workings of a nuclear bomb, or how fast a Continuous-Extrusion Blow Molder can spit out molten plastic. And if we goof up, they'll call us on it.

What are your rules of thumb for choosing and using details?

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Milton Erickson, Abused Children, and the "Always-a-Robin" Syndrome (Part Four)

Vigilance: That's a term psychologists sometimes use when discussing these issues of perception, focus, and attention we've been talking about. The science of paying attention.

Last time, I suggested three practical steps, if you want to improve your capacity for observant detail in fiction:

1) Observe more of life around you.
2) Write it down, or you will forget.
3) Select carefully and thoughtfully, based on your audience and genre.

1) Observing more is a discipline. If you want to see the world around you--really see--you must make a conscious effort. Left on our own, we "see" enough to get by. And what we see is selective. It's generally established in the research, for instance, that females observe and decode non-verbal signals with greater skill than males. This helps account for that phenomenon we label "female intuition" (Which isn't as mysterious as it sounds...Intuition is based on observations/interpretations that seem to occur below the level of conscious awareness.)

So the first step is to decide to see more...and keep that decision in front of you on a regular basis, to guard against slipping back into the more comfortable mode. Write yourself a note. Carry it with you. Ink the world "see" on the back of your hand for one day. Put it on a stickie over your computer. However you do it, be more intentional about observing.

Another strategy to help you get started is to use that selectivity that we all seem to have...but use it to your advantage and play Observation Games. Pick a specific detail, and go on a hunt for examples. How many types of doors can you observe today? How many different ways are there for people to sit? (Posture, legs crossed, still or jittery, etc.) Have you ever studied the way people comb their hair? Let yourself become very still, right now, and identify all the sounds in your environment. The hum of fluorescents? Is your computer making subtle sounds? Wind, or street sounds from outside? Someone typing in the office down the hall? (Hey...What are you doing reading blogs at work, anyway??) You may find...probably will find...sounds you've never noticed before--because you weren't attending to them. How many color gradations of eyes can you find today? Count 'em.

(Hint: If you relied only on fiction, you'd get the idea that nine-tenths of the world walks around with eyes of piercing ice-blue.)

2) Human memory is demonstrably fickle. That's worth a post of its own sometime, but for now, trust me on this. (You didn't think it was just you, did you?) So if you don't write these little tidbits of detail down, later on, when you need them, they will be forgotten.

Many, many writers..those famous and those never-to-be...keep a writing journal. I keep one, and in it I jot down not only story ideas, but little observations I make along the way. Now, here's what I was thinking about the other day:

Wouldn't it be great if I could peek in your journal?

No, I don't want your story ideas...(Well, maybe I do)...but the point is, I'm only one lone writer. And I can only observe what happens in my little slice of the world.

What if we shared observation journals?

You could see my observation notes...and I could see yours...and maybe something that you see in mine would spark your imagination. Maybe the perfect detail you've been searching for is out there, only it's not in your journal.

It's in mine.

And if we had a dozen contributors...two dozen...a hundred?

Wow...think what a resource that could be.

Not that you have to use my journal notes verbatim. You'd be free to mix them up, change them around in accordance with your imagination. For instance, I might observe an interesting tattoo which incorporates the name "Betty."

If you like the tattoo I describe, but don't have a Betty in your story...use the tattoo's design, but change the name.

Here are some true examples of the kind of thing I'm talking about, from my journal:

8/31/09... a small bird chasing a car. Flitting along right behind the vehicle for at least a full block as it sped down the street (Think maybe it was enjoying the heat of the tailpipe?)

9/13/09...divining rods and "water witching"

11/20/09...a vast field of sunflowers, shriveled and spent with black, drooping heads.

3/11/10... Flagpole in a stiff wind. Arrythmic "ping" of the chain against the pole.

3/22/10... woman with arms crossed, who continuously plays with the hem of her short sleeve as she speaks.

3/24/10... sign outside business: "Ion foot detox = $25.  Ear candling."

Now, maybe I'm the last person in the world who's never heard of Ion foot detoxes, or ear candling...But those things caught my attention. Some day I may use that sign verbatim in a piece of fiction...or I may change it a bit...or I may never come up with a use for it.

But even if I never have reason to use that particular observation...You might.

So I'm adding an online Writer's Journal to this site...Probably over in the left sidebar. For now, if you're interested in participating in this experiment, just send me your observed detail in the Comments.

Along with your observation, give me the date, the general geographic location if it's important, and your name if you would like attribution.

And remember...details don't have to be bizarre to have impact. But they have to ring true, and, when possible, present a fresh perspective.

Ok...I observe that I'm running long, here...so I'll save the final thoughts for next time.

See something today...and write it down!

Monday, May 10, 2010

Just Because: Dirty Work

From time to time, I'll post an observation or question Just Because, which may or may not directly relate to the topic of Psychology and Fiction. Today, it does relate...

So, my family is not exactly famous for doing things normally.

Yesterday was Mother's Day in the United States and Canada (If you're keeping score, today is Mother's Day in Mexico). And while people across the land were buying flowers, taking their mothers (and wives) out for lunch, and pampering those fine ladies with chocolates, I drove my wife out to the barn to scoop poop.

Husbands, if you're seeking a unique experience for the mother of your children, you might want to jot this little gem down, and try it next year.

(You are--I trust--beginning to see why I don't write a blog on romance tips)

In my defense, we had a nice cookout beforehand, and I grilled her favorite steaks while she rested in the recliner and chatted with my mom. More importantly, there's no place my wife enjoys more than the barn. Horses are her thing. And right now, we're horse-sitting for some vacationing friends who own about forty of them.

So Mother's Day afternoon found my wife with a shovel and a pick, filling an enormous wheelbarrow with stall droppings, and wheeling it outside where Mount Poopius stands aloof, as forbidding and foul as Frodo's grim destination. Like that courageous hobbit, she trundles up the mountain with her burden--not once, but over twenty times.

When I finished filling all the water tanks, I asked for a new assignment, and got recruited to join in the "fun."

And as we're laboring at the task, somewhere around my fifth wheelbarrow I start thinking: "This is like writing."

Now, I love writing. My wife loves horses. But we both understand that in any endeavor of love, you have to muck out the stalls.

It's not glamorous. Not much fun. It's hot, and sweaty, and stinky.

But it's necessary.

What about you?

1) What part of the writing journey is like mucking out stalls, for you? (Feels like drudgery, but it's got to be done.) Or maybe you have to muck out the stalls of your life before you can even sit down to think about writing...

2) How do you motivate yourself to tackle the parts you don't relish? (Or maybe you haven't been doing them?)

Love to hear about it...

Friday, May 7, 2010

Milton Erickson, Abused Children, and the "Always-a-Robin" Syndrome (Part Three)

If you'd like to strengthen your skills in handling detail, where do you start?

Milton Erickson, as most students of psychology recognize, was a unique figure in the field of psychotherapy. Overcoming a life of hardship himself, he dedicated his career to finding direct, short-term solutions to people's problems, in an era when the prevailing notion was that therapy demanded an extended period of intense work.

(As a sidebar, if you're looking for inspiration for an offbeat, iconoclastic medical professional, you could do worse than to study this man's life. I guarantee you'll get ideas for a memorable character. Erickson was House before House was House.)

Part of what set Erickson apart were his legendary powers of observation. Stories abound, but one of my favorites involves the day he walked across campus and encountered the wife of a colleague. "You're pregnant," he said as soon as they met. The woman was stunned, and asked how Erickson could possibly know that, since she had just that moment come from her doctor's, where she had learned the news.

"The color of your forehead has changed," he explained.

This, despite the fact that Erickson was born color-blind.

(Tone deaf, as well--and he suffered two bouts of Polio, lived much of his life in significant pain, etc. It's a fascinating story.)

Erickson insisted that his students practice the discipline of intense observation, because he considered it essential to the helping professions.

Abused and neglected children, for different reasons, often develop hyper-sensitive powers of observation.

Having spent my entire career in the helping professions--(Ok, I also took a two-month excursion into the world of Plastic Bottle manufacturing. Did you know there was such a thing as a Continuous-Extrusion Blow Molder? Me, neither.)--I've seen first hand how young people with abusive backgrounds and severe emotional disturbance enlist the power of observation to stay alive. Hyper-vigilant, we call them, and these are kids who needed to know, the instant Mom's boyfriend walked in the door, whether it was safe to hang around, or whether it was time to hide (or crawl out the back window and sleep in an overturned garbage bin).

They are alive today, because of their acute powers of observation.

The point of application?

I'd like to convince you that every single writer--every single person--has the capacity to improve his/her skills at observation.

You just have to want to...

Most of us mortal-types, because we lack the motivation, wander through our days, seeing without really seeing. It's not a matter of life and death to us.

By typing this out, I'm hoping to inspire myself to see more than ever. Every day. And then, to incorporate some of that into my fiction.

I have a related idea, which I'll share in my next post.

Before I close for today, a word about robins. In his fantastic book Revision, David Michael Kaplan warns against the "Always-a-Robin" approach to details--commonplace details, in other words, where every spring morning brings robins hopping across the lawn, their sweet songs filling the air as fresh breezes drift in through gauze curtains.

Couldn't it be a blue jay squawking? Or a pair of squabbling starlings? Or--if you're really set on a peaceful mood--how about finches? Doves? Pigeons?

You know why we get so many fictional robins? Because we're not motivated to go out and search for fresh, unique details.

In A Scandal in Bohemia, Sherlock Holmes upbraided his faithful Watson, "You see, but you do not observe."

Steps to try:

1) Observe more of life around you.
2) Write it down, or you will forget.
3) Select carefully and thoughtfully, based on your audience & genre.

Next post, I'll flesh these out a bit, and talk about an experiment I'd like to try with your cooperation. Don't worry, it won't hurt... :)

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Milton Erickson, Abused Children, and the "Always-a-Robin" Syndrome (Part Two)

Another reason to pay attention to details in our fiction...

2 The "real world" is made of details.

We live in a world of concrete details--not abstraction.

For instance, I don't own a car.

I own a tan Bonneville with an overachieving check engine light, oil smoke emitting from the tail pipe when it shouldn't be, and a weird wobble in the front when I brake. As I write, the center cubby holds a black ink pen, a yellow packet of sweetener, and a discarded tissue.

Our brains are constantly recording sights, smells, tastes, touch sensations, and sounds--each of which comes to us in High Definition.

So, whether we are conscious of it or not, a work of fiction with the appropriate amount of concrete detail strikes us as more believable.

You see this in the world of Law: "Where were you on the night of August 14th, 2007?"

"Uh...I was...shopping. Yeah. Shopping."

"Can you tell the court where, specifically?"

"Uh...I...bookstore. I was at a bookstore."

"Which bookstore, please?"

"Uh..."

Do you believe this guy?

Parents: You've experienced this too, right? Your kids tell you a story, but it sounds a little vague, and the Parental Suspicion Meter pegs out. Crafty little sprogs learn to invent concrete details to bolster credibility.

Well chosen, vivid details help create the illusion of reality.

That's why a really good liar can fool us.

You've heard news stories about those master imposters, right? People who fake their way through a series of jobs, like airline pilot, lawyer, and even brain surgeon...and they accomplish this deception because they sound like they know what they're doing...By sprinkling their conversation with specific detail, they convince everyone around them.

Since the "real world" flows by us in High Definition detail, then a word, a sentence, a paragraph that lacks specificity may, by comparison, seem contrived. Flat or lifeless. Phony.

Obviously, balance is critical...I'm not suggesting you slap a Brand Name on every product a character touches...nor am I suggesting you take three paragraphs to describe the envelope your character receives. Rip it open and get on with your plot.

But look for small ways to convince your reader: This is a real world. This actually happened.

Next time, thoughts on how to apply this...


Friday, April 30, 2010

Milton Erickson, Abused Children, and the "Always-a-Robin" Syndrome (Part One)

As any number of writing gurus suggest, and rightly so, details are crucial in quality fiction. But why? What makes a "telling" detail telling? What makes an evocative detail evocative?

I think there are several reasons. Today, let's analyze one.

1) Concrete details serve as triggers.

The human brain is fearfully and wonderfully made...far more complex than our most sophisticated computers. It has an amazing capacity to record--in detail--the events and experiences that make up our lives. But, as time goes by, our unused memories are shifted...first, piled haphazardly on the table of our minds. Later, tucked in folders and filed away. Finally, crated up and shoved into the back row of the dusty warehouse. Beyond that? Some shadowy Goblin drags them off to The Deep Vaults.

Where they are...lost?

No, not lost.

Maybe you've heard of discoveries during the early days of brain surgery, when doctors touched certain portions of the cortex with a probe, and clear, detailed memories pop back to the surface from long-term storage: "Oh, yeah. I remember my first day of kindergarten. I had pancakes with blueberry syrup that morning. My teacher wore a red blouse and a ladybug pin. The room was hot, and the blond-haired boy next to me had a runny nose and B.O. And a girl named Stacy with buck teeth was crying so hard, she threw up, and it looked like cottage cheese until the janitor came in and put that sawdusty stuff on it."

All that from touching a spot in the brain.

Why can't you remember all that information on your own? For that matter, why can't you remember where you put your car keys? The problem with memory is not Storage...It's Retrieval.

When we include specific, concrete detail in fiction, we figuratively "touch" a spot in the reader's brain, and trigger a synaptic burst. "Wires" that haven't connected in years pass a message from neuron to neuron, and dredge up a response from the vaults.

You, as the writer, won't often know exactly what the response will be. For each person, the associations and memories attached to that detail will be unique. Sometimes, a detail that means little (emotionally) to you, sparks a strong reaction in another. Or vice versa.

Show you how it works:

If I say, "cereal," does that do anything for you? Get your juices flowing?

Probably not. Unless you're hungry. As a stimulus, it's not likely to evoke much--too vague, too abstract, and I doubt if it lights up your cortex like a Christmas tree.

But if I say, "Freakies cereal," some of you break into a broad smile. If you were a kid in the early seventies...or if you were a parent then...you may remember Boss Moss, Hamhose, Gargle, and the rest of that wacky gang that lived in a tree--and you will associate that detail (the name of a now-defunct cereal brand) with emotions/recollections from that period of your life. You may suddenly remember details about a kitchen, or a breakfast table, or something that happened at that breakfast table, you haven't thought of in thirty-five years.

I mostly remember eating twelve thousand boxes of it, in the effort to gain a complete set of the plastic figurines. Oh, and I also ordered a Gargle t-shirt.

Memories and emotions are triggered by specific detail. And reaching the emotions is one of the primary goals of fiction--getting your readers to feel something.

Sometimes, the response is dramatic--the "aha" experience of hearing a forgotten song and being flooded with memories from that time period, or revisiting the exact place where you first heard the news about 9/11. More often the response is subdued, sitting below the threshold of perception, and it impacts the reader "below the waterline" as a hint or suggestion of mood.

Thunderstorms would be a good example: Most of us associate thunderstorms with drama or danger. Why? Even if you wouldn't describe yourself as "afraid of thunderstorms," you've probably witnessed intense, even frightening, storm cells. A nearby lightening bolt that made you jump and put your heart in your throat. Or that angry green sky boiling overhead and the swish of damaging winds.

Those memories, of which you may have no specific recall, are still down there in the vaults. Thus, Snoopy...along with countless other writers of Thrillers and Chillers, take full advantage of "dark and stormy night" settings to evoke something in the reader.

"Light up" your reader's brains with fascinating detail...then next time, we'll dissect another reason why details count.

Welcome!

I'm glad you stopped by.

The focus of this blog is the intersection between Psychology and Fiction...two interests that have played a central role in my life journey.

At root, the disciplines of both Psychology and Fiction share a common concern: To better understand the human condition.

As such, the discipline of psychology is full of insights that can benefit the thoughtful writer...and the vast legacy of fiction illuminates the struggles and challenges and joys of what it means to be human.

I'm interested in exploring what Psychology has to tell us about: 1) The creative process in general; 2) The craft of writing in particular; and 3) Fictional people and what makes them tick.

I approach this as a learner...and hope that you'll find something of value as we think through these issues. By all means, add your voice...and you'll find honest disagreement welcome here, provided it's wrapped in the spirit of cooperation and civility.

Caveat Lector (Let the Reader beware!):

1) Psychopathology will not be the primary topic here (although we may touch on some issues from time to time). If you're looking for the scoop on Schizophrenia, affective disorders, Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome, attachment disorders, the Autistic Spectrum, and so forth, there are a number of good sources for writers out there, both online and in the bookstores.

If you want to draw realistic characters with serious psychological/psychiatric disturbances, a little research on your own will take you there...but you may be disappointed by my lack of emphasis on that side of Psychology.

On the other hand, I hope to open your eyes to the quieter, less glamorous side of Psychology.

Personality psychology, Social psychology, Cognitive psychology, Developmental psychology, Positive psychology (the study of the best, healthiest qualities in human beings), Sports psychology...Research from all these areas provides something of value for fiction writers. But they don't garner as much attention as a shower scene in the Bates Motel.

2) Following on the coattails of #1, this is not an online forum for psychotherapy.

After more than twenty years' work in various aspects of Human Services, I'm acutely aware of the pain and heartache and pressure that individuals everywhere suffer.

Years ago, Dr. Scott Peck began his popular work The Road Less Traveled with a simple declarative sentence:

"Life if difficult."

It was true then, and it's still true today...

Simply put: We can't fix that here.

There are resources for hurting people, both online and in your community. If you need some TLC in the midst of personal struggles (and we all do, at times) please seek out these options. As a last resort, there are even Call-In shows...but don't get me started.

3) My goal is to dig into the research, find some neat stuff, and talk about how it might apply to fiction. But please remember, Psychology, like all areas of study, is founded on controversy. Economists argue endlessly over economic theory. Physicists still debate today whether Einstein got it right. The same is true for Psychology.

This is how true science works...over time, the evidence accumulates. Some theories are supported, others fall by the wayside. That's a healthy and needed process.

But this is not a forum designed to argue the relative merits of various psychological theories.

That would steer the conversation away from practical application, make this a purely academic exercise, and bore most people to tears. If serious psychological debate is your cup of tea, gratify your needs elsewhere...please and thank you.

Ground rules sound fair?

Let's get started!