Building the Case for Changing the Way We Think 

We need to make sense of our perceptions.

Imagination is the core of our human experience. It’s how we build memories and process. I’m not talking about imagination as we often hear about it (cliché). Rather, I mean imagination in how we’re constantly creating everything we think as we think it.

We label these skills as innate, and therefore, forget how impossible it is our brains can do what they can do. We can invent complete realms within the unseen space of our minds just using the things we derive from our perceptions of a shared world. And that’s just the beginning.

If we’ve forgotten anything we learned immediately as children, it’s that we should be giving our imaginations carte blanche. Instead, we listen to critics and doubts and just about every voice we can hear, those in our heads and otherwise, and we lock up our brains up as they age.

We claim we don’t, but we do. We say things like “the more I know the less I know” and think we’re being clever and profound and mature. But what are we really saying?

That we recognize we have trouble using the first tool we ever learned how to use. Simple is sophisticated, here, but we’re so focused on sophisticated, that we forget how beautiful and natural it is and should be to let our minds just go.

As we age, we use our creative capabilities more for easy rationalization or occ

asional problem solving. Somewhere along the line, most of us have started thinking about imagination and memory as a perk of existence rather than the means. They certainly are the benefits – why we love books, movies, art, music.

As we hear all the time – this experience is magic. It’s what we’re constantly after, both in our reading and in our writing. We’re looking for the things we don’t have/know/understand, and we’re trying to make sense of the things we do.

But, think about this – outside our little world of narrative lies a world of problems being solved by imagination. For example – being able to imagine ourselves in other people’s places is how we gain social relationships and understanding. But it takes knowledge and memory to do this.

Knowledge. Things we know. Things we remember. Things that start to inform our imagination. We hold onto everything, not just for the sake of storing information, but because it enables us to make sense of future experiences, and it gives us the ability to predict outcomes, or, in the case of the impossible, imagine outcomes. We all daydream. Why don’t we give ourselves more credit for what we can cook up?

In the next post, we’ll look at methods of identifying unforgettable imagery in what you read for developing unforgettable images in what you write.

 Understanding the Science of Imagination and Memory 

Memory and imagination are interchangeable in a way because of the way they inform one another. This is especially true in storytelling. And it’s kind of like a closed loop, a Mobius strip, with no clear chicken or egg. Memory is created by witness, which is immediately followed by processing, followed by recall, which is only possible because of imagination. It goes on like this.

It’s been shown with MRI technology that in both cases of memory and imagination, blood flows to the same parts of the brain at the same rate, regardless of which is being used. (To read more on this, check out Priscilla Long’s My Brain on my Mind)

What we might label “long term” memories are stored deep in the brain and are easier to recall because we recall them all the time. The “unforgettable images” we read and write go into the same place – we can’t get rid of them and we can’t

help ourselves but think about them. That long term space is quick setting concrete and it’s out of our reach of control.

In case you’re curious (if you’ve gotten to here, you are – and thank you), it’s the Neocortex and Thalamus that are responsible for controlling the brain’s imagination. These are, unsurprisingly, the same pieces that control both consciousness and abstract thought.

So, imagination involves a bunch of different brain functions: emotions, memory, sensory recall. Understanding how memory and imagination are linked within the brain (not the physiological so much as the way they interact with our interior selves) means we can start to understand and link significant experiences with imagination for the sake of our work.

As children, we all went through basic training for imaginations by listening to others tell stories. In narrative, it all comes down to the exactness of chosen words to evoke imagination and a sensory experience.

We focus on the senses – smell, taste, sound, texture, sight – because it’s what we’ve been trained to do. By others and by our brains. And while we remember much of what we read and write, because we can’t help ourselves, it’s the very specific images that make all the difference – this is our biology at work.

This is important to reconcile because our visual sense becomes our primary sense when we read and write. What we see in our mind, and the emotional response it evokes, relies on what we can “see.”

In the next post, we’ll build a case for changing the way we think about our imaginations and memories.

but I’m such a cute cliché…

 In our generation of images and scenes, we tend to recreate the things that have strongly affected us. I need to note something about cliché here. Something is labeled cliché when it affects (or has affected) a lot of people. The problem with cliché, and why it doesn’t work for unforgettable imagery, is that it doesn’t have power. Because it’s common, overused. Clichés don’t surprise or evoke…anymore.

So, getting back to what we know and how we imagine: There are those few experiences that infect us, the things we can’t forget, especially the things we often times want to. These experiences are deeply informed by both imagination and memory.  So let’s break it down a bit.

Imagination: It has a fundamental and paradoxical dichotomy. It’s sensory, yet exists separate from the physical. Imagination makes hearing possible when there is no sound, remembers smell when there is no scent, makes images available when the eyes are hidden behind the flesh of lids.

But, the purpose of imagination is to provide meaning to experience and understanding to knowledge. It is the fundamental faculty through which people make sense of the world. It plays a key role in our human learning process.

Imagination, informed by memory, makes it possible for us to create, deepen, and understand the idea of the “other” – something I’m suspect we, as humans, are alone in our ability.

Memory: It is nothing if not imagination. The generation of feelings, both emotional and sensate, past and present, is the work of imagination.

While imagination is the tool with which we tell stories, paint pictures, sculpt statues, and compose music, process our world, make sense (or try to) of everything that happens, and then draw connections, what we’re really doing is forming memories to inform future experiences.

When we write, we use both imagination and memory to develop our scenes, our images.

When you write a scene, whether something you’ve a sense of for a story or something you remember for a personal essay – what happens?

As soon as it’s in words, it sharpens. And becomes permanent the way you imagine/remember it.

We’ve all heard that our memory is our truth. But what’s more? When we take the time to write these things, fiction or nonfiction, they also become our memory – they round memory out, possibly even replace memory.  

In the next post, we’ll dig into the science and how we can use it as storytellers.

Lee Stoops

Part One: What is the Unforgettable Image in Story?

Curiosity killed the cat? Well, curiosity got the cat to that place. But, maybe it was deficient imagination that killed the cat.

Imagination. Are you sick of that word yet? Me, too. The problem is, we’re not seeing everything yet.

How do we consider imagination? Or, do we consider it? I think we tend to take it for granted, or, worse, misunderstand it. I’ll make the same claim of memory, as, for humans (and especially writers) the two are mostly interchangeable. Before we get there, though, let’s define the reason for the discussion: The Unforgettable Image:

This is a moment or detail from a work, usually a scene (though it can be in shared in other ways) that affects us through visual imagination in a way that is impossible to forget for the way it burns into or festers in the mind.

These are not just interesting images, not just evocative images, not the ones that get us thinking about things and saying, “oh, hey, that’s keen.” Unforgettable images in this discussion are the ones you can’t help but immediately know, can’t help but think about or forget, even if you want to.

These experiences are subjective – what’s unforgettable to me might not be to you. There is no universal here. However, understanding the kinds of things that render themselves unforgettable in what you read, and why, is at the heart of how you can begin to make certain parts of your writing not just effective, but more important.

Think for a moment – it’ll only take that long – to consider all the material you generate in your imagination while reading and writing. You can probably put together a totally detailed setting instantaneously. A lot of it? Details you can’t stop your brain from remembering.

You use a universal sense of reliance on concrete visual warehousing to create scenes that will start to work at other people’s memories (and eventually emotions). For example – if I write dead bird, what happens?

You picture one. It’s different than the one I’d picture, sure, but it’s a dead bird. That’s not my point, though. My point is: You can’t stop yourself from picturing one. Your mind, if you’ll forgive the cliché, has a mind of its own.

It’s how we work. We’re constantly cataloguing the details, whether we’re aware of it or not. It’s a survival tool. We, as storytellers, use it to an even greater advantage. We are curators of observations for the sake of recreating something we cook up in our heads in the heads of others. And our goal is something that those other heads won’t be able to dump.

In the next post, we’ll begin to explore about how it all works. 

It’s a ways off, but am looking forward to recording all of my novels. If you are a voiceover actor, musician, etc., check out Zen Pro Audio. Warren Dent will take good care of you. Amazing prices and stellar customer service.

(update: link should be working now)

A Partnership with

Portuguese Artists Colony

Presents:

Home At Last

Sunday, April 14, 2013 at 826LA

4 – 5:30 p.m.

Note Location and Time Change!!!

Thank God for books and music and things I can think about.

–Daniel Keyes

Our next show is April 14, 2013 at 826 LA in Echo Park  (http://826la.org/) from 4-5:30 pm.

 We dare you to miss this lineup:

Kate Maruyama: Kate Maruyama’s fiction has appeared in Controlled Burn, Arcadia and Stoneboat among other journals. With Diane Sherlock, she co-founded Annotation Nation, a site that looks at fiction in terms of craft. Her debut novel, Harrowgate comes out this fall from 47North and she lives, writes, teaches, cooks and eats in Los Angeles

 Ben Loory: Ben Loory is the author of the collection Stories for Nighttime and Some for the Day. His fables and tales have appeared in The New Yorker, on NPR’s This American Life, at Selected Shorts, and other places. He lives in Los Angeles and doesn’t ever want to get the flu again.

 Jason Gutierrez: Seventeen years ago Jason started taking photographs to avoid having to write. Now he wants to write to make up for the photographs he doesn’t get to take.

He hails from the city of angels, and can easily be bribed into photographing your literary event.

 Diane Sherlock: Diane Sherlock is the author of four novels, DEAD WEIGHT, WILLFUL IGNORANCE, GROWING CHOCOLATE, the upcoming WRESTLING ALLIGATORS, as well as WRITE TO BE HEARD, a book on craft. Her writing has appeared in The Rumpus, The Citron Review, scissors and spackle, Mo+th, Present Tense, and Bird in the Hand: Risk & Flight. She co-founded Annotation Nation with Kate Maruyama and has a blog on writing. She received her MFA in Creative Writing from Antioch University, Los Angeles and has been a finalist for the Artsmith Literary Prize and nominated for the Pushcart Prize.

 She’s worked as a freelance writer for several production companies, as a producer and production manager for film and TV, and is a member of SAG-AFTRA. Her latest screenplay was a finalist at Sundance and Austin. She is also an honorary Masai after a 2011 trip to the Masai Mara. She will be attending the TEDGlobal Conference in Edinburgh, Scotland this June.

 Sofia Gil: Sofia Gil started her work in theater, starring in the plays: Much Ado About Nothing, Frankie and Johnny in the Clair De Lune, Closer and The Brothers Grimm.

She has written two plays of her own, and recently transitioned to the world of film.

Last year, she co-wrote and Executive Produced her first short film, Moon Town, which will release this Spring. Currently, she is working on a collection of short stories and pre-production on her second original film.

 Musical Guest: The Noble Gasses! Sometimes Surf. Sometimes Soul. Sometimes what you least expect.

 Live Write! A thrilling feat of writerly improvisation! As you arrive, you get to vote on a prompt. The winning prompt will be revealed to four intrepid authors – two of us and two of you audience types, onstage for all to see! We’ll all write to that prompt while Scott plays – it’s going to be impossible not to listen to him, but no one said this was going to be easy. Then the Live Writers will each read their just-written words, and the audience gets to vote! The winner will develop the work into a finished piece to be read at the next show. 

Sunday, April 14

4-5:30 p.m.

826LA

1714 W. Sunset Blvd.

Los Angeles, CA 90026

(213) 413-3388

PARKING: There is a large lot behind 826LA and the rest of the businesses on that block. Cash or credit feeds the machine!

I have been taking improv classes and it will be interesting to see what, if any, effect that has on my writing. It has already helped in terms of public speaking and performance. I’ve always found the interface between different art forms fascinating. This weekend, I had the opportunity to take a few comedy writing workshops at IO West and the First Scripted Comedy Festival. The classes were excellent and gave me a new perspective that I will be exploring this year. There was a fun exercise in one: write a letter to yourself from a body part or organ. I chose my toenails. It was fun. Sometimes, you just have to be silly to keep going.

less is more? whaa…?

Want to stand out with your writing? Or in general? Remove hyperbole from your writing and, for that matter, your speech. Have you noticed that people now seem to be incapable of speaking without it? We’ve become gushers of adjectives, adverbs, and expletives. A touch of hyperbole can strengthen a scene, but if it’s not there for a specific purpose, cut it. If you read the scene aloud and it calls attention to itself, cut it.

too much?

Less is more in these days of overstatement. “I was so f-ing exhausted.” You go beyond exhaustion, you’re probably dead. “No, really, I nearly died from exhaustion.” Did you just finish the Ironman? Then okay. But thanks to advertising, politics, and the entertainment industry, it’s become our standard way of speaking. No one is wrong, they’re diabolically evil. They can’t have a different opinion, they’re horrendously stupid. Along with it, mercy, the benefit of the doubt, even common ground have disappeared (and in this climate, you want to stop bullying? Good luck with that). Once hyperbole becomes the norm, it loses its effectiveness as a device. We get jaded as stories push the envelope further and further. Get simple. Get back to a good story, well-told.

simplicity is beautiful

If you need a bit of hyperbole for effect in your writing, combine it with a simile or metaphor. Also, use different levels – and that would include zero – of hyperbole in the character voices. Allow your characters different speech patterns. Let the characters be as varied as people in the world. As with any literary device, be aware of what you’re using and why.

Hyperbole done right? The master, as always (from Hamlet, Act V, sc i)

                              LAERTES

O, treble woe
Fall ten times treble on that cursed head,
Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense
Deprived thee of! Hold off the earth awhile,
Till I have caught her once more in mine arms:

[Leaps into the grave.]

Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,
Till of this flat a mountain you have made,
To o’ertop old Pelion, or the skyish head
Of blue Olympus.

 Hamlet is not about to be outdone – he even says so at the end of his speech later in the scene:

HAMLET
‘Swounds, show me what thou’lt do:
Woo’t weep? woo’t fight? woo’t fast? woo’t tear thyself?
Woo’t drink up eisel? eat a crocodile?
I’ll do’t. Dost thou come here to whine?
To outface me with leaping in her grave?
Be buried quick with her, and so will I:
And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throw
Millions of acres on us, till our ground,
Singeing his pate against the burning zone,
Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thou’lt mouth,
I’ll rant as well as thou.

don’t OD with the hyperbole, son

What you get?

• 10 days of structured activities with your fellow writers
• 7 days of workshops, 3 hours per day
• All “Wine and Publishing” Talks
• Mid-morning pastries and coffee on all workshop days
• Welcome dinner at Fin de Siglo
• Walking orientation tour of historic QRO
• Closing celebration festivities
• Visit to an artist’s studio in San Miguel de Allende
• Transportation to the ruins on final day of the program, including “tequila parties” in the vans!

My connection is that Rob Roberge is one of my mentors and one of the very best writing instructors out there. Do yourself a favor. Sign up. Have fun. Wish I could join you!

And pre-order Rob’s next book!