magic

WRITER'S MAGIC
By A.GROVE DAY
University of Hawaii
"I wish I could write!I have a mass of material;I know all I need to know about grammar and composition;I could tell a useful story if only I could get started!"
More people than ever are saying this today.The war and the needs of the postwar world have shown how necessary it is to use writing and reading to hold civilization together.Hundreds of potential authors lack one thing that might make them real authors -an understanding of the process of literary invention.
The process consists of several steps.The novice,who easily takes the first step,is unaware of the symptoms that foretell progress,becomes discouraged,and quits before he has given him- self a chance.He is unaware that much of the writer's job must be done before he puts pen to paper.The effort to set down an effective paragraph or page reveals the sad fact that the thinking process which should precede the writing process has been shod- dily done. "Think before you write"is,of course,the usual textbook advice to the novice.Writing becomes a pleasurable exercise if the idea is well in mind and the goal is clear,so that the task becomes one of concentrating on matters of style and tone.The full-stored mind joyfully empties itself on the written sheet.
The trouble with this advice is that the novice knows almost nothing about the technique of thinking which produces good writing.Seldom is he able to stand aside,as it were,and observe his own mind in operation on the problem.The more expert writer succeeds now and then in practicing the art of literary in- vention,but too often he is at the mercy of trial-and-errormethods or of wasteful,wistful hopes of"inspiration"from the blue.The professional writer has probably threshed out a method that works for him most of the time-if it didn't work he would soon cease to be a professional -but even he is seldom able to describe how his writing mind works at its best.
Thinking to a purpose is the toughest task known to man.No one can practice it for long at a time.It is always accompanied by feelings of strain.We know really very little about how it is done. Yet there is a technique to it,as there is a technique to writing, and technique can be taught.Let us see if those who think about thinking have any counsel to give about the steps in the process, about short-cuts that may be found,and about the typical way in which thought may result in a piece of original writing.
II
There are seven steps in the process which result in the solution of any writing problem.
Conceptionof a Need.The first step may be a feeling of tension or excitement resulting from the realization that a writing job is to be done or a literary problem is to be solved.The need may arise merely because one has been asked to write a paper,to give a report to an employer,or to turn in a story for the next issue of a mag- azine.It may,on the other hand,arise because one feels that he has something personal to say on a subject which has not been properly developed by others,that public opinion must be changed, or that he has promising material to be worked up into a poem or even a novel.
Before proceeding much further,the thinker should attempt to state in clearest form just what is his problem.If he has no goal or purpose in mind,his"thinking"will be idle daydreaming.His problem,once stated,may be obviously unanswerable,or at least unanswerable in its first form.Further work usually shows the need of restatement of the question in more specific terms.Why strive to fulfill a need or answer a question which the thinker does not have clearly in mind?The worker should ask himself:"Do I understand what is needed?What is the main idea?What materials do I have for advancing toward the answer?What areas are still unknown?"If he can explain clearly where he wishes to go,he is already part way to the second step.
Often,however,discouragement immediately follows the con ception of a writing need.An attack of"writer'sstage-fright" comesalong:the workerfearsthat he will fail to do his best;that everyonewill harshlycondemnhis efforts;that this sort of idea has alreadybeen treated,and treated better,by other writers; that not now,if ever,is he readyto dojustice to his themel Wor- riesof this idlevarietyarenatural;they may alsobeusefulif they areharnessedto somepurpose,to drive the writerspeedilyahead to the next stage of the process.Creationmust go aheadof criti- cism.
Preparation.This step consistsin focusingall of the writer's experienceandknowledgeon the problem.Hereconscious,meth- odical effort is required.For a brief piece of writing,perhaps someexercisesin recollectingpreviouslyknownfacts and feelings will suffice.(Education,in one sense,is a means of storing the mind with the materialsfor thought.)For a longerpiece,this step may requireinterviewingmanypeople,hoursof deskworkor librarywork,and the taking of notes.Scholarsengaged on a largeworkmay spendyearson this step,whichis then called"re- search."The answersto many questionswill arriveas a result of this often pedestrianlabor,which is on the whole usually en- joyable -sometimesso enjoyablethat a writerwill lingerin this stage for days or months after the time when it should be clear that researchis yieldingfewnewresultsandthat he shouldplunge into the businessof puttingallresultsintowrittenuse.
Now,many times this periodof preparationwill give all the answersnecessaryto fulfill the writer'sneed.Often,however, problemswill have arisen which seem insoluble.The writer is "stuck."He hasconsciouslytriedto go ahead;he hasreachedan impasse.He shouldnot give up;thereis still a methodthat he may practice,if he knows about it.Although this methodhas seldombeendescribed,it may be definedas the effortto give in- spirationa chance to strike through the act of submitting the problemto the subconsciousmind.
Incubation.This schemeof storingawayproblemsin the hope that they will hatchsomesoundsolutionshas beenpracticedoften but seldom explained.Here we are on shaky ground,for the workingsof the subconsciousmind,or the subliminalself,or in- sight,or intuition -whatever it may be called-have not often been experimentallystudied for practicalpurposes.All that we reallyknowis that this schemeoften works,and that practicecan make it workmoreoften.Gettingresultsthroughincubationof ideas is sound,if the remarksof various thinkers and writers can be trusted.1 No professionalwriter can produce valuable ideas day after day without having stumbledupon this"secret" which Mark Twain,who consideredthe writer'smind as a tank which is periodicallyfilled and drawnupon,has well described: "It was then that I made the greatdiscoverythat whenthe tank runs dry you've only to leave it alone and it will fill up againin time,while you are asleep-also while you are at work at other things and arequite unawarethat this unconsciousand profitable cerebrationis goingon."2
What is this seemingly magic method?When you have worked as hard as you can on your problem,simply state the difficulty as clearly as possible,submit it to your subconscious mind,and - forget about it for a while.
III
Nothing may result.Nothing will result if the preparatory,ex- ploratory work has not been done faithfully;for the mind can work only with the material already stored in it,and the"inspira- tion"which can come is always offered as new combinations of pre- vious experiences.The subconscious presumably gets results by shuffling all the possible combinations and presenting only those which may appeal to the thinker's need."The sterile combina- tions,"remarks Poincare,"do not even present themselves to the mind of the inventor."It does not create something out of noth- ing.Even our airiest dreams are subconscious recombinations of bits of daylight experience.Herein lies the reward for the faithful preparation that has been done;for inspiration never comes unless this voluntary work has been put in,even though it seemed abso- lutely fruitless at the time.Says Polya:"Only such problems come back improved whose solution we passionately desire or for which we have worked with great tension;conscious effort and tension seem to be necessary to set the subconscious work going."
The period of incubation requires a minimum amount of time-often a long time -and therefore cannot always produce results upon demand.For this reason,a writer should start work well in advance of the deadline.For this reason,the most efficient thinker is likely to have his mind stored with a number of problems at all times,so that incubation of one idea can take place while he is consciously working on another.The prolific writer is usually one who has his mind filled with"work in progress."
The eliciting of"inspiration"cannot be forced by conscious effort,for it arises from no conscious realm.It may be suspected, however,that there are ways of advancing the process by practice, and of putting one's mind in the way of receiving this help more easily.Means to do this will suggest themselves after the whole process is further described.
Intimation.The next step is to seize the familiar"flash of in- spiration"which may come at any time,and which offers a path to solution.This"guess of genius"is a shy and furtive thing,and must be cunningly snared.How many world-shaking ideas have been lost because the first intimation flickered out and was for- gotten,or because the thinker had no pencil handy to make notes, or because a telephone bell or a"person from Porlock"rudely de- railed the train of thought?The intimation arrives first as a sort of"fringe"effect on the edge of consciousness,and must be lured into the mind and made at home there.If it promises to come,the thinker should stop everything and open his mind to its reception. If he is reading,he should not read another line until his thought becomes more clear.
At this stage,a few brief notes are sometimes necessary.It would be well to avoid putting down a fuller account until the implications of the idea are nurtured to a clearer state.
Illumination.This stage is often considered to be a part of inti- mation.Both stages come suddenly and are over quickly;and they are usually accompanied by excitement and a feeling of suc- cess.The full recognition of the idea,however,may be called "illumination,"and at this stage the idea can be consciously ex- amined and notes made.
Again and again,writers have found that illumination comes at unexpected moments,when the conscious mind is pondering other things or is momentarily idle.It is likely that the process is encouraged by putting the mind in a state where there is little interference with its free working.The incubation of ideas may be fostered by a good amount of complete mental relaxation.The process may be hampered by reading,for then the mind is being fed with the words of others,leaving no room for original contempla- tion.Discussing the problem with a friend may be helpful,al- though it offers the danger that all the desire to write may be killed by the easy satisfaction of expressing one's ideas in conversation. Mere busyness of mind will probably prevent the emergence of good ideas above the conscious threshold.Strenuous physical exercise is,of course,deadening to thought;one cannot compose a poem while he is running for his life.Intense mental fatigue is likewise inhibitive.
On the other hand,mild,monotonous tasks such as many factory or clerical jobs may encourage daydreaming that could be put to work;playing solitaire or raking leaves often has the same effect. Graham Wallis cites the physicist Helmholtz as getting his best new ideas"during the slow ascent of wooded hills on a sunny day."A restful stroll may produce dozens of ideas;the liking of poets for solitary rambles is something more than a mannerism.Charles Darwin in his Life and Letterssays,of the moment when his theory of evolution by natural selection came to him:"I can remember the very spot in the road,whilst in my carriage,when to my joy the solution occurred to me."Henri Poincare made an important mathematical discovery while stepping into an omnibus.One writer of my acquaintance takes a shower bath when he is"stuck" in his story,and usually emerges damp and full of new devices. Every writer should experiment to discover the times when his own mind is most open to illumination,and arrange to put himself in the way of this experience in times of need.One may welcome an occasional night of insomnia,because then unplumbed thoughts rise to the surface and torment him until he rises and notes them down.
Verification.Every idea that comes to us is not,of course,use- ful or valid.Everyone has had the experience of awakening from sleep with a brilliant scheme or answer to a problem in his mind - only to realize,as the conscious mind took over,that the idea was an absurdity.The paths to solution must,therefore,be subjected    to all the tests of validity and logic that the conscious mind can furnish.Many times the"inspiration"simply will not work. But if it cannot be verified,the process of incubation can be tried again and again,until a clearly valuable answer to the problem is discovered.
Expression and Revision.This is the stage of actual writing - the stage at which the tyro vainly thinks he can begin work.Yet not until now,the seventh stage of the creative process,is it worth while to put down the result in words.Now,and only now,is the writer able to jot down an outline based on his thinking,to write a first draft,to edit his work,and to utilize all the writing technique that can be taught in a course in composition.
IV
A word or two on writing the first draft may not be out of place. There are only two ways of writing a first draft.
The first way is common to most beginners -to write off or dic- tate at a"white heat"with the single intehtion of pouring out all one's ideas into words before the ideas are lost to mind,letting style and diction fall where they may.This method has the ad- vantage of promoting freshness of approach and unity,for a paper written at a single sitting often does have these merits.On the other hand,there is often a loss,for the writer is concentrating on matter at the expense of manner;and his first draft cannot be re- vised into a good paper simply by juggling punctuation or shifting sentences about or hunting for synonyms.What he has produced is simply an expanded mass of notes.Furthermore,he often finds it difficult to change his expressions,because the fact that they are written down in a certain way gives them a spurious immuta- bility;the objective appearance of the first chosen words blocks the writer from going back to the point where he had not made any choice and could still search for the better way of expression.A further danger in the"white heat"method is the possibility that the writer will be at the mercy of his chance association of ideas, and will unknowingly diverge further and further from his goal as he writes;this danger may be reduced if he refers frequently to his stated main purpose and to an outline.  
Theoretically,it might be possible to write a draft in which man- ner was stressed at the expense of matter.Such an effort,how- ever,usually leads to no result at all;the tyro cannot write even one effective sentence if he is torturing himself with the fear that the style will be less than perfect.Too many hopeful writers do not write anything because of this self-conscious concentration on man- ner of expression;they are like the fabulous centipede who,when asked to explain how he managed a hundred legs at once,began to worry and wound up in a ditch,unable to get anywhere.
The other alternative is to combine the two aims of expression, and to keep one eye on matter and another on manner while the first draft is being written.This method is more difficult,but it saves time and travail in the end,for the task of revision is much lighter.Most of the skilled writer's skill consists in his practiced ability to bestride two horses at once,and keep taut the reins of both subject and style.The inexperienced writer can most profit- ably employ his practice time by trying to make his first draft as nearly as possible his final draft.He will often find to his delight that after a time the two tasks fuse into one,in a way that makes the expression flow smoothly and aptly from the thought.
The need for accuracy of phrase and for concentrated argument during the period of expression often leads to improvement upon the original plan or to the invention of quite new ideas,so that even this period of actual writing calls for the occasional use of the think- ing process as a part of literary production.
A strong caution should be urged against trying to use this whole method in any formal or cut-and-dried way.The process is a personal and tenuous thing,and its value can be deadened by attempts to apply it as a finicky routine.The steps need not be taken in precise serial order;the writer may have an illuminating idea about the phrasing of a piece of detail even before his main purpose is clearly in mind.All the while,from start to finish,the mind is playing in and around the problem and its parts,and there is in the best writing experience a delicate wholeness of conception and execution which it would be absurd to try to analyze pedanti- cally.
At any stage,new needs or problems may be uncovered which should be noted.These by-products are often more valuable than   the original idea.There is also a possibility that work on a later detail may suggest points that would enrich and revivify the whole original conception.
V
The process herein outlined serves not only for literary invention but for approaching the solving of creative problems of other sorts. It should be found useful in getting ideas for the other arts -the composition of a literary piece is only in medium and detail greatly different from the composition of a painting or a piece of music. It is also quite comparable to the descriptions we have of the work of an inventor who is devising a new apparatus or other practical application of science.It could be used to attack a problem in business organization or a sales promotion scheme.It is appli- cable to the solution of mathematical questions which lie beyond the mere calculations of the arithmetician;in fact,the best testimony I have found on this psychological process is that given by Poin- care on mathematical creation in fields where there is a multi- plicity of possible paths to a solution and the subconscious mind is used to select,from this infinitude,plausible hypotheses for con- scious verification.
It would be desirable to have the psychologists spend some time exploring further the process of creative thinking and,in particu- lar,the possibility of hastening the period of subconscious selective activity.Until then,the method should be used with caution; but it will be used by those who have roughly worked it out,and for whom it works in turn.I would be loath to imply that there is such a thing as"writing without tears";for I know of no human effort that demands more of all of a person than the task of literary creation.But often,if a writer only realizes that,by better know- ing his own mind,he can improve his thinking and writing effi- ciency,he will at once begin to write more and write better.



1Several of these are given by Graham Wallis in Chapter 4 of TheArt of Thought, which is the best brief treatment of the subject that I can find,and from which I have borrowed the names of several steps of the process.The greatest extended study in English of the creative mind of a writer is The Road to Xanadu,1927 and 1930,by John Livingston Lowes,dealing with Coleridge;Chapters 3 and 4 are mainly concerned with the poet's subconscious work.Edgar Allan Poe's cele- brated"Philosophy of Composition,"1846,affects to despise"intuition"and ration- alizes the all-emDracingrole of the intellect.The artist's mind at work is described by Paul Val6ry,"Introduction to the Method of Leonardo da Vinci"(Dial,June and July,1926;reprinted in Variety,1927).The playwright's use of inspiration is examined by Andr6 LeVeque,"Francois de Curel:Observations sur la Cr6ation Dramatique,"Publications of the Modern Language Association of America,June, I937'The genesis and growth of a short story is fully described by Dorothy Can- field Fisher,"How'Flint and Fire'Started and Grew,"1920.Ellen Glasgow de- scribed her method in"One Way to Write Novels,"1934.Scattered examples of inspirations on story ideas are given in How Writers Write,1937,edited by N.S. Tillett,and Creating the Short Story,1929,edited by Henry Goodman.Specific examples of the practical value of"unconscious work"in mathematical invention are given by Henri Poincar6 in"Mathematical Creation,"The Foundations of Sci- ence,1913 and 1921(abridged in Engineering Education,1928,edited by Ray Palmer Baker).Other applications to mathematics are found in How To SolveIt,1945,by G.Polya,and Psychology of Invention in the Mathematical Field,1945,by Jacques Hadamard.The general process is dealt with in Chapter 4 of Becoming a Writer, l93$y by Dorothea Brande,and in Book 6 of CreativeImagination,1929,by June E. Downey.Catharine Patrick,in CreativeThoughtin Poets(Archives of Psychology, no.178,1935)and other papers,has studied the stages of preparation,incubation, illumination,and verification.See also E.D.Hutchinson,"The Period of Elabora- tion in Creative Endeavor,"Psychiatry,5,1942.
2From Mark Twain in Eruption,1940.Other writers have considered the sub- conscious mind as a kind of reservoir;Henry James wrote:"I...dropped it[his plot for The American]for the time into the deep well of unconscious cerebration: not without the hope,doubtless,that it might eventually emerge from that reser- voir,as one had already known the buried treasure to come to light,with firm iridescent surface and a notable increase in weight."Coleridge's"twilight realms of consciousness"assumed"a confluence of our recollections"through which"we establish a centre,as it were,a sort of nucleus in[this]reservoir of the soul."- Biographia Epistolaris%1911?Vol.II.Ellen Glasgow wrote:"All I had to do before the novel had formed was to leave the creative faculty(or subconscious mind)free to work its own way without urging and without effort,"and gave as her Rule 1: "Always wait between books for the springs to fill up and flow over."A few other testimonies by writers on the role of the subconscious may be given here.From John Dryden's dedication of The Rival Ladies(1664):"This worthless present was designed you,long before it was a play;when it was a confused mass of thoughts, tumbling over one another in the dark:when the fancy was yet in its first work, moving the sleeping images of things towards the light,there to be distinguished, and then either chosen or rejected by the judgment."From Goodman,Creating theShortStory:(Konrad Bercovici)"But all this is not done in the conscious,stilted manner taught in universities,but in the unconscious free manner dictated by one's creative impulse."(Charles Caldwell Dobie)"But my method is more or less subconscious.I suppose I've developed an unconscious technic."(Waldo Frank)"Finally,I felt the ideal growing organic:exerting pressureon my conscious- ness.When the time and opportunity were ripe,I then consciously began to think of the embryonic story."(Thyra Samter Winslow)"Then in the middle of a period of despair,a plot,all done,pops into my mind,a plot that has been'cooking'in my subconscious for a long time."From C.Day Lewis,Poetry For You,1944: "But the seed of the poem has passed into him,into the part of him we call'the un- conscious mind.'"