An Introduction

Fine, you say, cyclical writing is all fun and well but how do you actually craft your stories? Well, I’m so glad you asked.

Credit where credit it due, I must thank Lauren Sapala for introducing me to the concept of intuitive writing.* At its core intuitive writing is a rejection of there being only one right way to write. There is simply the best way for you. And if you happen to be among the subset of the population who struggle with utilizing outlines, formulas, and how-to guides to produce anything but still-born words on a page then intuitive writing is probably the style for you!

It’s not that outlines can’t be useful. Or knowing about character arcs and sentence structuring. Or writing detailed character bibles. But that isn’t the main focus of intuitive writing. At its center intuitive writing is heart-driven. You are called to write about a character, scene, or sensation. It won’t leave your head, pestering you continuously until you either go madd stuffing it down or you open up and channel it directly onto your page (digital or otherwise). It is a calling, dare I say a sacred one, to write what has come to you whether it’s fan fic, memoir, romance, or fantasy.

*I have heard intuitive writing called by various names such as pantsing or gardening. But I never before encountered anyone who could give me a list of helpful habits to cultivate my abilities as an intuitive writer the way someone who works from outlines is given via most ‘How to write X in 5 steps or less!’ before I met Lauren. Therefore, I prefer to use the term intuitive writing.

My Own Writing

Intuitive writing in my own life looks a little bit like this. I’ll be walking around minding my own business and then, boom! An idea pops into my head and won’t shut up about itself. Sometimes it’s a character. Sometimes it’s a scene. Often it makes me laugh or go, oh fuck. This is the first “piece” I’ve been granted.

If I don’t write down the new piece, a sense of disquiet and dread slowly builds in my head like zombies behind a thin pane of glass. You’d think writing it down would be an obvious solution to my problem, but it took me awhile to trust myself, and the piece, that it deserved to be written down. Now I take deliberate steps to write down any of the pieces that are calling me. This in turn ‘clears’ my brain, getting it ready for the next piece to come.

Now if this is the first piece I’ve received on a particular idea, then as I start transcribing that first dribble of an idea more and more starts to unfold in my mind. Like an unused faucet, it will start with that first startling burst of water. Sometimes I can barely type or scribble fast enough to keep up with the rush of ideas, characters, and scenes that unfold. This usually comes in a span of one day. Then the story will fall silent.

I’ve had to learn the hard way not to fear this sudden silence. And part of lesson was the realization that as an INFP I will always have more ideas than I will have time to complete. I can’t complete every single piece that’s given to me. So why set myself impossible expectations to begin with?

Instead of feeling frustration with my all too human resources, I’ve learned to shift my mindset into gratitude and excitement. I welcome each new little piece of the universe into my life much like a new person. Some you meet once and then never again. Some stay with your for a time in a job or new group. Others hop in and out of your life for the rest of time. Some are slow and steady, by your side daily. No type of story piece is wrong. They just inhabit different places in my life.

However, as someone who wants to actively cultivate long-term ‘story’ relationships, I welcome each piece and gently poke at them, testing which want to stay. I’m still pretty new at this part. Just this past year, in fact. Poking for me involves seeing if my interest stays. If I’m still interested in after a month or if the idea and characters continue to bob in and out of my head, then I start to accept that this is here to stay.

A Word on Editing

When I write down my story pieces, I’m not focused on ‘fixing’ anything. If you invited a friend out for lunch only to spend the entire time telling them what’s wrong about their appearance or how they should fix their life, it would probably be a very brief lunch. If you did that for the entire relationship, your friend would drop you quicker than a metal seat belt clip in the middle of a southern summer at high noon. My job when I receive the pieces isn’t to fix the scenes or characters. It’s to welcome them in and expand them as much as possible.

Only when I feel I’ve got enough scenes to work with will I start trying to stitch them together. By the way did I mention the pieces don’t come in chronological order? I’ve got my wracking character death one minute then their hilarious banter with their cute-but-not-really-their-type-but-maybe-sorta-growing-to-be-their-type neighbor the next. I’ll even get different ideas about how this neighbor meet-cute should go!

So how do I know when I’ve got enough scenes you might ask? That’s an excellent question and honestly I’m still figuring it out. So far it seems to come down to trust and knowing myself. (How INFP of me.) Knowing myself is recognizing that this feeling inside is nudging me to organizing my story, not add to it. Trust is self explanatory but a commodity I’m continually trying to raise.

As a recap I believe editing is a very necessary and important part of writing. Without editing my intuitive story would be random pieces stitched together in all the wrong places, probably with the wrong colored thread. But it is a state that only comes when it is ready—much like the pieces themselves—and it requires patience and trust as I wait for it to appear.

Isn’t Intuitive Writing Inefficient?

In a word, yes. Which is one big reason why those of us who writing intuitively tend to spend a large part of our writing lives feeling like reprehensible failures. In a society which praises and promotes efficiency (and this coming from the woman who loves to organize!), the listening, relationship-oriented way of writing is much slower to produce a work. Therefore, it would appear less profitable by the Great Industrial Machine. But we all know that’s nonsense. Efficiency and copiable formats are wonderful and have their place. But so, too, does aimless wandering. Receptivity and trust. Relationships and the slow circle of life revolving around us all.

This means that I need to make my peace with slow circles. I write more slowly than my more populous, outline ascribing counterpoints. My path to success doesn’t look the same. Many times my definition of success looks different as well. Realizing these truths is the first part to not only enjoying a fulfilling, creative life but also a fulfilling life overall.

Has a Character or Scene Ever Made You Uncomfortable to Write?

Oh boy, yes. Discomfort is a constant part of my own personal writing. I’ve never had trouble writing male characters, but I’m constantly wrestling with my concept of femaleness and gender. I also struggle with fear of my cultural minority characters when they come to me and expectantly present their lives for the page.

The more I learn and grow as a person, the more types of diverse characters I encounter who demand space in my story. Very often I tell them that I’m not who they should be coming to. I’m not good enough for them; I’m not knowledgeable enough; and I am way too scared to do their stories justice.

But no one writes diversity, or gender identity, or culture, or anything else important perfectly the very first time they try to express it. In fact, while there are plenty of wrong ways, I’m not sure we could get very many people to agree on the right way. But fear of being wrong should not keep me from trying. “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.” Maya Angelou’s words are a mantra I try to live by, not just personally, but in my writing life. So even though I may be clinging to the bridge of diversity with all my limbs and inching across it at 7 snails-per-hour, I am still committed to stepping forward.