Anyone who knows me knows I am a hard-core plotter. Under tight deadlines, it was important that I know where I was going – I didn’t have the time to do long exploratory manuscripts or puzzle things out in drafts. Of course, this is also my particular writing style. I like to plan, I lay things out, and I write in linear chronological order. That’s how I work.
I also help my coaching clients get from nebulous story ideas to plot points, no matter what their particular writing style is. I’m used to pulling order from chaos.
On a certain level, it seems organized, very structured. It’s like sudoku: you know what the story is supposed to add up to, then you look at the pieces and see where they fit. That said, the people I work with are usually baffled by the fact that I can somehow “look at” the amorphous mess of ideas that they have and come up with a three-act structure in an hour.
But writing is like any other art. It involves a balance between logic and intuition. Structure and unpredictability.
Magic, if you will.
When the templates and prep and planning don’t work, I believe it ultimately comes down to the subconscious. On a gut level, you know what your story should be. It’s just a matter of unlocking that, getting it from your gut to your brain.
Unfortunately, your subconscious speaks its own language.
When I have been beating my head against a wall, stuck on my own story, all the figuring and planning in the world are useless. I know there’s a story there. I can feel it. And I often wonder why my subconscious won’t just pony up and give me the answers I’m seeking.
But the thing is, my subconscious usually is giving me answers. I am just not always attuned to hearing them.
Think of it this way: if my subconscious was another person, I’d be yelling at them in English: “What do I do with this character? Is this the way the story should go? What’s the theme?”
And my subconscious is shouting back: “Clock! Beagle! Vague feeling of anxiety! The color blue! Lake Erie!”
What the heck do you do with that?
First – a quick detour.
Let’s take a look at tarot.
Most people have at least a passing familiarity with the cards, crammed full of symbolism, able to tell the future (or at least hint at things going on.) There are a ton of different styles of decks, lots of different artwork to choose from, etc.
Beyond the fortune-telling aspect, Tarot can be a valuable tool. Because it helps you connect with your subconscious – and learn to start understanding its language.
If you take a deck and put out a number of cards, and then had to tell someone a story about what the cards meant, whether you had any background knowledge of the official meanings or not, you could do it. Since you’re a writer, it would probably be relatively easy. (Especially since you wouldn’t have the stress of, say, your writing work-in-progress.)
It would have a beginning, middle, and end – or a question, progression, and possible outcome. You would come up with explanations for what you saw and why it mattered.
And just like that… your conscious brain would start connecting with your subconscious one.
The more you did it, the easier it would become. You’d start becoming attuned to free-form story, your imagination, and just loosening up your creative muscles.
It doesn’t have to just be tarot.
Theoretically, you could do the same with modern art, Rorschach ink blots… heck, with stock photography. Writing prompts and journal journeying (although I think it’s good to shift focus from writing, which can be too linear and left brained, even when it’s freeform.)
Meditation is a good way to give your subconscious space to connect. Personally, I liked guided meditation… I’m easily distracted/bored, so the “activity” portion gives me something to do while I go under, as it were.
Writing down your dreams in a dream journal also helps. You don’t need to interpret. Just keeping track will help you remember them more. You can’t get more subconscious than your dream state. Personally, I’ve noticed that as crazy as my dreams can get, it’s usually the emotion behind whatever is happening “on stage” that is the real insight.
A common example: those dreams about showing up to school naked, for a final in a class you’ve never shown up for. Those aren’t actual reminders that you’re about to tank your major in Ancient Anthropology. It is usually a commentary on some other stress you’re feeling in your life.
The more you tune in, the more fluent you get.
The reward for becoming bi-lingual in “subconscious.”
For me, the more connected I am, the more efficient I am with both recognizing story elements (for myself and others), and the more I trust my words when I get them down on the page. That’s not to say they don’t still need revision – we always need that, don’t we? – but it does mean that I can get to revision stage much more quickly. When you’re trying to increase your writing production, or if you simply want to feel more comfortable in your writing skin, that’s important.
The other plus isn’t just story related. If you’ve had problems making decisions in any areas of your life, and just wish you had some voice saying, “DO THIS ALREADY!” then voila! Your subconscious will help you get in touch with that “gut instinct” so you’re clearer on what you really want and what you should do.
It isn’t easy. But it’s worth it.
It’s like warming up when you work out. It may seem superfluous, or even annoying, but if it helps your writing, isn’t it worth it?
Now, a question for you. How much do you rely on your muse/instinct/gut when you write? What do you do to develop your relationship with your subconscious and creativity?
About Cathy Yardley
Cathy Yardley is the author of eighteen novels, published with houses such as St. Martin's and Avon, as well as her self-published Rock Your Writing series. She's also a developmental editor and writing coach, helping authors complete, revise, and get their stories published. Sign up here for her newsletter to receive the free course Jumpstart Your Writing Career.
I love this post and the notion of becoming “bilingual!” I too have found that I need to stay in touch with both minds when I write—the organized, cultivated cerebral mind and the other untamed mind that has its own intelligence. I couldn’t agree more when you write: “my subconscious usually is giving me answers. I am just not always attuned to hearing them.” So the question is: what helps me to shift, attune, and be able to hear? You offer some great examples! For others, it may be walking, gardening, even sleeping. Stephen King famously said that when he feels stuck, he poses a question to “the boys in the basement” before he goes to sleep and lets them work on it while his conscious mind is quiet. It never hurts to imitate The King, so I’ve tried it! Those “aha” moments often come to me in the shower, shortly after awakening. I think it may be the immersion in sensation that allows the conscious mind to go quiet and what’s below the surface to be heard. And no, it’s not an either/or process, but—as you express so well—a process of inclusion. Lovely article! Thank you!
I always liked King’s analogy of The Boys in the Basement, which he used in MISERY. (I also think that all genre authors should read MISERY, for a number of reasons!) I’m glad you enjoyed the article. Thank you for commenting!
Thank you for this. I was just reading another writing blog that talked about using photos to help create emotion in characters. I like the way you explained about writing being linear, so switching to another form can help tap into the subconscious.
I’ve recently gotten back to pulling photos from the internet for my characters (just internal use only, obviously, not on promo stuff!) It’s just loading your subconscious, getting more of a sense. Thank you for commenting! :)
I’m a plotter and planner too, but I trust my guts and my hands–they’ve always known more than my mind. It’s very hard for me to get into the zone during revisions because the critical voice will not shut up.
My tricks are free-writing, asking questions and answering them (usually it’s why, why, why) in a separate document that I label as notes where I experiment. I’m also discovering that it’s best to keep pressing forward during a first draft, making corrections to the previous sections but not lingering on them. My second novel came out so much cleaner–revisions were a breeze. That first novel is still a mess but I love the story people too much to let it languish anymore.
I do free writing with every story I write, just as a way to warm up, and definitely in the plotting stages. And I agree with you that it’s best to not get caught up when writing a first draft. It’s too easy to get stuck in analysis paralysis and then stay stuck as your mind makes the problem bigger than it is! Better to keep moving, fix as you go, and lean on your writing friends to help you through it. :)
Thanks for commenting!
Great post, Cathy. The thought that occurred most frequently while reading: This would make for a fascinating and potentially fun session at UnCon. Just saying!
You know I am always available for UnCon sessions — say the word, I’m there. :) I’m so glad you enjoyed it!
Wonderful post, Cathy. This is so important! It makes me think, ‘plotter AND pantster’. We lay the groundwork, then cultivate ways to invoke the muse. As a reiki practitioner and long-time believer in the so-called metaphysical, which to me is simply an extension of our physical experience, the muse/gut/subconscious is a bountiful and overflowing river. I love how Steven Pressfield talks about this in the War of Art. You set the stage with your plans, your actions, your intention and commitment, which in turn attracts the attention of the muses. He also talks about ritual as a way of connecting to the subterranean river. I make a daily invocation/invitation/request for assistance, and I truly feel supported by this. Placebo? Maybe, but it doesn’t really matter. I think this topic is so important for us as observers and storytellers. Thank you for this. And I agree with Therese! This would make an awesome session.
I’ve definitely been on the more metaphysical side of things when I was younger, but I let it fall away over the past few years. I’ve been deliberately connecting more with my creativity and subconscious, and I can say that there is tangible proof in a sea change in my writing habits. That, plus an increased focus on living a healthier lifestyle, have made a huge difference. I really must re-read Steve Pressfield with fresh eyes… Vaughn Roycroft swears by him, as well. Thank you for commenting!
Hey Coach – It’s always been clear to me that the subconscious is a vast resource, and that it’s worth pursuing ways of tapping into it. I’ve long found story solutions, nuance, and even entire scenes, come to me when I’m on the cusp of sleep–either coming from it or falling to it.
I’ve found just knowing this, and consciously taking note of what comes at these times, really helps with the harvesting. That’s not to mention writing instruments at the bedside. And it comes with a big bonus: bona fide excuse to nap!
Wonderful post with some great tools, Cathy!
Speak of the devil! :) I am a big fan of capturing dream ideas. And writing implements by the bed. And napping! So you’ve got the hat trick right there, my friend!
Always great to hear from you. Thanks for commenting!
That’s my experience too. It’s easy to brainstorm plots for others, but my story is acted out behind a veil. I see indistinct shapes moving around back there but can’t make out what they’re doing.
Then once in a while the veil lifts and for a second I glimpse what’s going on. Tarot, dream journal, walks, washing dishes…none of those help lift the veil. I’m too conscious of trying.
It’s at unguarded moments when I’m not trying at all that–ah!–a scrap of plot crosses the divide between unconscious and conscious.
Earlier in my career I was a plotter. I had mystery structure, for instance, to make it easy. Nowadays I’m working more freeform, writing stories that need to invent their own way. Plot is elusive because there is no plot. Story is turning amorphous feelings into concrete action.
I find that the best way is not to force it. Don’t worry. Just accept and stay open. For me, a vulnerable heart is the best way to lift the veil and get a look at what the unconscious mind is doing with ease.
Great post.
Staying vulnerable and open is definitely a key. Thanks for commenting!
Terrific topic! I love tarot cards and have several decks. Recently I’ve gone to a couple of workshops on using the tarot in writing. There were some excellent exercises to discover things about characters or about the stories you want to tell. I’m trying to make my own deck in fact. There’s so much imagery can teach (reveal?) to us about storytelling and ourselves.
I have an Aquarian deck I’ve had for about 20 years, and then another deck that I rarely use (but love the imagery). Your workshop sounds amazing! And you’re making your own deck? That’s so cool! Maybe you’ll share some images…? :)
Thanks for commenting!
Eventually I will share.
I noticed you made mention of Sudoko, try this; Find a rather hard puzzle get into it then walk away, be sure to pass through a doorway. It is proven and rather weird that when you come back to the puzzle it is a breeze to finish. Science says your Subconscious has solved it while you went walkabout.
I am not a writer, I am vehicle for a muse. In my case a female Australian Shepherd, another story. Any, and I mean any, advance planning or outlines she likes to chew and bury in the back yard. So much so that when I do feel blank and empty I plan ahead just to get her riled up. Sure enough, my characters run away with the plot and words flow.
If you are a Plotter my apologies. Writing the first draft is the dream, revision is the plotting work. (for me).
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Quite all right. I have been a career writer for the past 20 years, and I found I couldn’t always just rely on my Muse to show up (although I did burn out when I pushed too hard.) I’ve found it’s a balance (and this is just for me) — I need that structure, that “safe space” for the Muse to play. But I need the Muse to come up with the details and the soul. The more I can keep in touch with my subconscious, the better the work is — but the more I rely on it completely, without the other work, the easier and more quickly it all falls apart. (Again: *this is just me*! YMMV!)
Thanks for commenting! :)
Currently struggling with my WIP, this was such a timely reminder to trust (and not try to rush) the process. Instead of plotting, my time will be better spent doing other things, freeing my subconscious to come out of the shadows. I think you might’ve just saved me a lot of wasted writing time this week!
My unconscious bails me out on a regular basis. When I write myself into a corner and all the words are wrong, I have to stop what I’m doing and go work on something else until my unconscious speaks. My unconscious doesn’t yell odd words at me; it simply sits there quietly, waiting for me to stop talking. When I do shut up, it takes its time to say anything. One conversation went something like this, (Unconscious) “You’ve got it all balled up again, don’t you?” (Me) “Uh huh.” (Unconscious) “That’s because, as usual, you’re looking at it wrong. What’s he doing, really?” (Me) He’s buying a house. (Unconscious) “No he isn’t” It started walking away. (Me) What do you mean he isn’t? There’s an obnoxious soccer mom realtor with an enormous white SUV which has a Rookie Driver sticker on the back bumper and…” I stopped when he disappeared. It took me a while to realize what my unconscious meant. My protagonist was not buying a house. He was buying a home. After that, the scene was easy.