Thursday, October 15, 2015

Creativity in Writing: Part 1

Don’t be weird for the sake of being weird.

If you’re writing about a creature with fly-wings, bunny ears, and wheels for feet, then I expect your world has less gravity to support easily torn wings, large predators stomping around loudly, and paved grounds covered in blacktop.

Weirdness in writing requires logic. You must have a reason for something to drift so far outside of a box. 

 The real world is the box. What is now is in the box. Our dreams can go beyond. Fiction allows others to see your dreams, like a map. Inventors, scientists, and engineers have this, too. Plans, schematics, formulae…

What if I put Chemical X with Chemical Y?

The curiosity drives the test-tube holder to pour them together.

That is what creativity is, mostly. Putting one thing next to another in a way that nobody has thought of before. Before reading this sentence, you’ve probably never imagined what an Eleraffe looks like, but now you’re trying to puzzle together an elephant and a giraffe. Does the elephant’s trunk have to be as long as its neck?

Weirdness is something I thrive on, and my experience has taught me how to repackage it so that it is digestible for a target audience. In writing, this is extremely important. Why does Alice in Wonderland work? Why does a cat’s smile lingering after the rest disappears make sense to the consumer of this media? Why don’t we question why a walrus and carpenter are friends?

It’s because we know that there’s something up with that book. We know that it’s framed as some sort of dreamlike state, written by an intoxicated mind. The readers tumble down the rabbit hole in the beginning, and from there they are “matrixed” into the world of weirdness.

I have more to say, but I’ll continue this is Part 2.