To Write Better Fiction, Try Writing Something Else

by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

We all know that various tasks, assessments, creations, observations, and reactions trigger different parts of the brain. For example, the other day I was driving along on a busy, two-lane street near my home, enjoying the nice day and the classical music station on the radio, when a loud VROOM blasted next to me and instantly put me into “fight or flight” mode, as some idiot in a Mustang shot past all the cars by racing on the median strip, then darting back into traffic like he was playing a video game, then went out again to pull the same stunt. A bad accident waiting to happen, which is old news here in L.A.

Anyway, when it comes to creation, we have a “team” consisting of the imagination group, the analytical staff, and the Boys in the Basement. They band together on our projects, and as we work in tandem with our good ol’ noodle (for you youngsters, noodle is old-school slang for head, which is derived from the 1500s word noddle—which in Old English meant head resting on a neck—and some smart aleck in the 1700s who added the “oo” sound from fool. I also could have chosen nut, noggin, or dome. Take note, as there will be a quiz on this later) we exercise our brains, which is essential for our overall health.

Which is why handing off all creative effort to AI is like preparing for a long distance race by eating Twinkies. The long term effect is horrible, especially in young brains that are still developing. Yes, AI can be an aid in some situations, but there should be a flashing Approach With Caution sign at every turn.

Now, there are different kinds of writing that work out the various parts of the gray matter— fiction, essays, poetry, jingles, marketing copy, letters (remember letters? That you write in your own hand and put in an envelope? That took some care, unlike the emails we send every day and the texts we fire off like so much digital buckshot) and anything else that requires a modicum of thought.

I consider myself a writer. I write. That’s all I ever wanted to do. I specialize in that form of fiction called the thriller. It’s my bread and butter—in fact, it butters my bread—and it is my primary focus. But when I engage in another type of writing I find that my overall creative muscle is improved, and I feel that when I go back to fiction.

That’s why I started a Substack. It’s my foray into a type of nonfiction I call “Whimsical Wanderings.” These are free-range essays without fences. I spend part of my early mornings playing in this part of my brain, and bring order to it later. Ray Bradbury once said of his own writing, “Every morning I jump out of bed and step on a landmine. The landmine is me. After the explosion, I spend the rest of the day putting the pieces together.” I can relate.

And now, gentle reader, I am happy to solve a problem for you. With the holiday season upon us, some of you may be scratching your head about what to get for that certain someone you find it so hard to get things for. What gift is suitable, surprising, fun, and relatively cheap? Now you have it. The best of Whimsical Wanderings is contained in the collection Cinnamon Buns and Milk Bone Underwear, the print version of which is available for purchase at the special intro price of $9.99 (that’s the lowest price Amazon will allow for this book. In a week it’ll go to $15.99, at which time I’ll start announcing it to the world at large, including Albania). You may get it here. There’s also the ebook version at the low end of $2.99, here. If I may offer a blurb:

Every time one of James Scott Bell’s Whimsical Wanderings arrives in my email box, I smile, even before I open it. Each post takes me down a path I am not expecting but am so glad for the journey by the time I reach the end. If you want to lift your spirits while being surprised by how one thought can lead to another, treat yourself to this book! — Robin Lee Hatcher, Christy Award winning author of The British Are Coming series

End of commercial. I’ll leave you with this from Malcolm Bradbury, in Unseen Letters: Irreverent Notes From a Literary Life:

I write everything. I write novels and short stories and plays and playlets, interspersed with novellas and two-hander sketches. I write histories and biographies and introductions to the difficulties of modern science and cook books and books about the Loch Ness monster and travel books, mostly about East Grinstead….I write children’s books and school textbooks and works of abstruse philosophy…and scholarly articles on the Etruscans and works of sociology and anthropology. I write articles for the women’s page and send in stories about the most unforgettable characters I have ever met to Reader’s Digest….I write romantic novels under a female pseudonym and detective stories…I write traffic signs and “this side up” instructions for cardboard boxes. I believe I am really a writer.

Do you do any writing other than fiction? Have you tried morning pages? How do you exercise your cranial creative capacity?

Creative Loafing

by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

Free Ai Generated Nap illustration and picture

Walt Whitman’s poem “Song of Myself” begins this way (spelling in original):

I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.

Walt was on to something, namely, it is much better to observe grass than to smoke it. Loafing is not about psychoactive stimulation. It’s about inviting your soul. 

Which is exactly what we should invite as writers. It is what makes our writing, our voice, unique. It is what a machine does not, and can never possess.

So just how do we invite our soul? We can practice creative loafing.

I had the privilege of knowing Dallas Willard, who was for many years a professor of philosophy at USC, where your humble scribe studied law. Willard was widely known for writing about the spiritual disciplines, e.g., prayer, fasting, simplicity, service, etc. I once asked him what he considered the most important discipline, and he immediately responded, “Solitude.”

That threw me at first. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Solitude, which also includes silence, clears out the noise in our heads, the muck and mire, so we can truly listen.

“In silence,” Willard wrote, “we come to attend.”

Our world is not set up for solitude, silence, contemplation.

Boy howdy, how hard that is for us! According to a recent survey, Americans check their phones 205 times per day. Further:

  • 6% check their phones within the first 10 minutes of waking up.
  • 76% check their phones within five minutes of receiving a notification.
  • 7% use their phones while sitting on the porcelain throne.

Needless to say, this doesn’t “invite your soul.” Loafing, even boredom, does. As one neuroscientist puts it:

Boredom can actually foster creative ideas, refilling your dwindling reservoir, replenishing your work mojo and providing an incubation period for embryonic work ideas to hatch. In those moments that might seem boring, empty and needless, strategies and solutions that have been there all along in some embryonic form are given space and come to life. And your brain gets a much needed rest when we’re not working it too hard. Famous writers have said their most creative ideas come to them when they’re moving furniture, taking a shower, or pulling weeds. These eureka moments are called insight.

Learn how to loaf, I say! And it is a discipline. I take Sundays off from writing. It’s not easy. I feel myself wanting to write a “just a little” (which inevitably becomes “a lot”). I have to fight it. If I win the fight, I always feel refreshed and more creative on Monday.

Try this: Leave your phone in another room and sit alone in a chair for five minutes and don’t think about anything but your breath going in and out. You’ll be amazed how hard that is. But it’s a start. If you’re working on your WIP, take a few five-minute breaks to loaf and invite your soul. You’ll get better at it. And your work will get better, too.

I will finish with this moving story about silence.

A fellow enters a monastery and has to take a vow of silence. But once a year he can write one word on the chalkboard in front of the head monk.

The first year goes by and it’s really hard not to talk. Word Day comes around and the monk writes “The” on the chalkboard. The second year is really painful. When Word Day comes he scratches “food” on the chalkboard.

The third year is excruciating, the monk struggles through it, and when Word Day rolls around once more, he writes “stinks.” And the head monk looks at him and says, “What’s with you? You’ve been here for three years and all you’ve done is complain.”

How are you at creative loafing? 

How Gratitude Helps Writers

“Gratitude is the sign of noble souls.” – Aesop

* * *

Many years ago, when my husband and I were just newlyweds, I came home from work one night and complained about something. I honestly don’t remember what it was. Maybe it was something I wanted but didn’t have, or maybe it had to do with work. Whatever the reason, I wasn’t happy about it.

Now I’m not normally a dissatisfied person. I’m more of a glass-half-full type, but I guess I was tired and out-of-sorts, and I let hubby know it.

My husband is a guy who loves math and science, and he’ll use any excuse in a conversation to bring up something that has to do with numbers. Percentages are especially dear to him, and Frank dropped a number into our conversation that night that wasn’t just informational—it was a game changer. He said (very matter-of-factly), “Don’t you realize you have more than 99 percent of the people on Earth?”

I’m not sure about the number he used, but his point was well taken. I was grumbling about some minor thing and missing all the majors. My glass wasn’t just half-full. It was overflowing.

I can’t say I’ve never griped about anything else since then, but that conversation made me acutely aware of how fortunate I am. And that knowledge makes each Thanksgiving season a meaningful reminder to count my blessings.

Why is Gratitude Good for You?

I’ve written about gratitude before on TKZ when I referred to findings by Dr. Robert Emmons from the University of California, Davis. Dr. Emmons is a leading expert on the science of gratitude. In his article “Why Gratitude is Good,” he lists a wealth of benefits experienced by people who regularly practice giving thanks. Some of these are

  • Stronger immune systems
  • Lower blood pressure
  • Better sleep
  • Higher levels of positive emotions
  • Relationship strengthening
  • Feeling less lonely and isolated
  • Increased daily word count in their writing (Okay, I made that last one up, but it’s probably true.)

Does Gratitude Help Writing?

As a matter of fact, it does. I found another article by Dr. Emmons in UC Berkeley’s Greater Good Magazine where he addresses the creativity aspect of gratitude. While his article was specifically about gratitude in the work environment, its conclusions on the subject of creativity apply to everyone.

Beyond the social sphere of work, gratitude also drives enhanced performance in the cognitive domain: Grateful people are more likely to be creative at work. Gratitude promotes innovative thinking, flexibility, openness, curiosity, and love of learning.

Emmons goes on to observe that researchers at the University of Zurich observed

grateful people were likely to be “idea creators”: successful with developing new and innovative ideas and reaching solutions in unconventional ways.

So it would seem that gratitude is the key to creativity, and creativity is the gateway to writing great novels.

Ted Talk about Gratitude

In addition to all the above, I watched an entertaining Ted Talk given by Shawn Achor on the role of gratitude in achieving success. I’ve embedded the talk below. It’s worth the twelve-minute investment, but if you don’t have the time, here’s a list of things Achor mentions that you can do daily to achieve that state of happiness and creativity. (Notice that naming three things you’re grateful for every day is first on the list.):

Here’s the Ted Talk:

HAPPY THANKSGIVING! 

* * *

So TKZers: What three things are you grateful for today?

* * *

Three things I’m grateful for:

  1. Having the time and resources to write.
  2. Friendships I’ve made within the writing community.
  3. Characters Reen and Joanie, the sharpest kid detectives ever, who won’t quit until they find the truth. (Click the image to go to the series page.)

 

 

Ride the Lightning

by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

I got an email last week which I post here with the sender’s permission.

Dear Mr. Bell,

I’ve been reflecting on something I thought you might find intriguing, given your strong defense of flexible structure in storytelling and your view that both plotters and pantsers benefit from it.

I’ve come to think of it as The Paradox of Spontaneity:

Spontaneity feels wondrous because it bypasses conscious control. But it’s only possible because of preexisting order.

The metaphor that struck me is lightning. Rather than being random, it’s the sudden visible manifestation of a vast, invisible system of order, aka, the atmosphere.

It even goes a step further with what’s called the Schumann resonances, which describe how all lightning strikes worldwide combine to maintain a fairly steady “heartbeat” of the planet. Old-fashioned car antennas pick up on this. Watch closely, and they’re always vibrating, tuning in to this heartbeat like an AM/FM stethoscope.

The Earth and the ionosphere form a gigantic spherical resonant cavity, like the body of a guitar. Every year, roughly 1.5 billion lightning strikes excite this cavity, forming low-frequency electromagnetic waves. These waves settle at specific resonant frequencies, mostly around 7.83 Hz. Isn’t it amazing how so many “random” lightning strikes both originate from and sustain order?

And yet, people often say structure steals the heart of stories! They forget that even hearts must beat to an orderly drum, or they wouldn’t be alive.

It’s like we crave the romantic idea of “the pure waters of creativity” so much that we forget: without structure, you don’t even have water yet. Reminds me of a neat, little orderly formula called H₂O.

Since you’ve written so persuasively about structure as a friend, not a foe, to creativity, I thought you might appreciate the connection.

What a brilliant insight! Our world vibrates with a great cosmic heartbeat. It sends us signals, bursts, and we experience them as spontaneity. It is not chaos theory; it all comes from a connected web of structure and order, which is what holds everything together.

Imagine an Earth without gravity. We’d all be Starlink satellites. Gravity allows us to move around on the ground, to dance, to run for the end zone, to put our arms around each other and sing or pray or bring words of comfort.

All of this is wild and wonderful. Structure is beautiful.

Yet there seems to be a notion out there that a thing called “story” can exist apart from structure. That’s not possible. Heck, it’s not just impossible at the novel level; you can’t even write words, sentences or paragraphs without structure.

I write lehslitrr.

Oops, I mean thrillers.

As writers we all love to ride the lightning. Should we just wait for it to happen? Or are there ways to attract it? Let me suggest a few methods.

  1. The Bradbury landmine. Ray Bradbury’s brain was a lightning rod. It worked at night, sometimes in his dreams, but mostly at the subconscious level. When he woke up he’d record as quickly as possible anything that came to the surface—images, concepts, bits of a scene. Only later would he see what kind of structure was being offered.
  2. Outliners can use the “killer scene” method. One of the most enjoyable parts of my planning is sitting in a coffee house with a stack of index cards, writing down scene ideas which come to me in visual form. I don’t think about the outline at this point. I just ride the lightning. When I have 30 or 40 cards, I give it a day, shuffle the deck, and then start to assess what scenes I love and where they might fall in the story, or where they might be giving me new direction. With cards, it’s easy to move them around (which is why I like the corkboard view in Scrivener).
  3. Pantsers ride the lightning as they write, and do so right on through to a completed draft. Nothing at all wrong with that (it is simply a longer version of what outliners do in #2). At some point, though, structure and craft need to take a hand. I’ve read so many manuscripts (and more than a few books) by “discovery writers” that drag like a rusty anchor because they fail at the structural level.
  4. Ride when you’re not writing. You see an image, a billboard, a person crossing the street. Or you overhear a bit of conversation and find you imagination starts firing. Let it go.

(For ten more ways to “goose the muse,” see my TKZ post here.)

I was at a Starbucks once, looking out the window at the parking lot, when a scene from my WIP started playing on the movie screen of my mind. I have no idea how long I was like that, but at one point a man sitting in a chair across from me said, “Are you all right?”

“Huh?” I said.

“You weren’t moving,” he said.

“Ah,” I said. “I was working.”

“Working? What do you do?”

“I’m a writer.”

He looked at me with that expression of wonder and pity we sometimes get when we give that answer.

Thinking back, I wish I’d said, “I ride lightning.” He probably would have switched chairs.

What about you? Do you ride the lightning? When does it happen for you?

Creative Words of Wisdom

Recently I’ve been recentering myself on creativity and the creative side of writing. I just finished Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic, which discusses creativity and the creative process, and decided to dive into the KZB archives for more wisdom on creativity.

Unsurprisingly, I hit paydirt.

First up is Joe Moore on the qualities of creative personalities. Then, James Scott Bell talks about both creative time and how it can help keep your brain youthful. Finally, Garry Rodgers lays out how to behaviors that help creativity and those which hinder it.

There has been active debate on whether creative genius is dependent on mental illness or insanity. This debate continues further by stating that madness alone cannot suffice as Source for creativity. Nay, nay. An openness to experience, intelligence and wisdom complete the mysterious formula. They are actually writing papers on the subject. The bottom line: Creative people make creativity a way of life.

We can all name artists, musicians, writers, scientists, etc. who inspire us with their fascinating and divergent thinking. (Look at our own Basil Sands, for goodness sake.) The argument for creative personalities presented by Hal Lancaster during the late 90’s in The Wall Street Journal stated six basic qualities exist:

  1. Keen powers of observation.
  2. Restless curiosity.
  3. An ability to recognize issues that others miss.
  4. An ability to generate numerous ideas.
  5. Persistently questioning the norm.
  6. A talent for seeing established structures in new ways.

Do you see yourself in any or all of the above? I do, which is fun. But, what really appeals to me is the recurring theme of madness in creative beings. After all, if you’re considered a little crazy you need no excuses for your behavior. I like that.

Joe Moore—January 31, 2012

I have long taught the discipline of a weekly creativity time, an hour (or more) dedicated to pure creation, mental play, wild imaginings. I like to get away from my office for this. I usually go to a local coffee house or a branch of the Los Angeles Library System. I also like to do this work in longhand. I mute my phone and play various games, like:

The First Line Game. Just come up with the most gripping first line you can, without knowing anything else about what might come after it.

The Dictionary Game. I have a pocket dictionary. I open it to a random page and pick a random noun. Then I write down what thoughts that noun triggers. (This is a good cure for scene block, too.)

Killer Scenes. I do this on index cards, and it’s usually connected to a story I’m developing. I just start writing random scene ideas, not knowing where they’ll go. Later I’ll shuffle the stack and take out two cards at a time, and see what ideas develop from their connection.

The What If Game. The old reliable. I’ll look at a newspaper (if I can find one) and riff off the various stories. What if that politician who was just indicted was really an alien from a distant planet? (Actually, this could explain a lot.)

Mind Mapping. I like to think about my story connections this way. I use a fresh blank page and start jotting.

After my creativity time I find that my brain feels more flexible. Less like a grouchy guy waiting on a bench for a bus and more like an Olympic gymnast doing his floor routine.

Now, I’m going to float you a theory. I haven’t investigated this. It’s just something I’ve noticed. It seems to me that the incidence of Alzheimer’s among certain groups is a lot lower than the general population. The two groups I’m thinking of are comedians and lawyers.

What got me noticing this was watching Carl Reiner and Mel Brooks being interviewed together, riffing off each other. Reiner was 92 at the time, and Brooks a sprightly 88. They were both sharp, fast, funny. Which made me think of George Burns, who was cracking people up right up until he died at 100. (When he was 90, Burns was asked by an interviewer what his doctor thought of his cigar and martini habit. Burns replied, “My doctor died.”)

So why should this be? Obviously because comedians are constantly “on.” They’re calling upon their synapses to look for funny connections, word play, and so on. Bob Hope, Groucho Marx (who was only slowed down by a stroke), and many others fit this profile.

And I’ve known of several lawyers who were going to court in their 80s, still kicking the stuffing out of younger opponents. One of them was the legendary Louis Nizer, whom I got to watch try a case when he was 82. I knew about him because I’d read my dad’s copy of My Life in Court (which is better reading than many a legal thriller). Plus, Mr. Nizer had sent me a personal letter in response to one I sent him, asking him for advice on becoming a trial lawyer.

And there he was, coming to court each day with an assistant and boxes filled with exhibits and documents and other evidence. A trial lawyer has to keep a thousand things in mind—witness testimony, jury response, the Rules of Evidence (which have to be cited in a heartbeat when an objection is made), and so on. Might this explain the mental vitality of octogenarian barristers?

There also seems to be an oral component to my theory. Both comedians and trial lawyers have to be verbal and cogent on the spot. Maybe in addition to creativity time, you ought to get yourself into a good, substantive, face-to-face conversation on occasion. At the very least this will be the opposite of Twitter, which may be reason enough to do it.

James Scott Bell—July 8, 2018

Improving creativity starts with a foundation of subject knowledge, learning a discipline, and mastering a proper way of thinking. You build on your creative ability by experimenting, exploring, questioning assumptions, using imagination, and synthesizing information. Learning to be creative is like learning a sport. You need a desire to improve, develop the right muscles, and be in a supportive environment.

You need to view creativity as a practice and understand five key behaviors:

  1. Associating—drawing connections between questions, problems, or ideas from unrelated fields.
  2. Questioning—posing queries that challenge common wisdom.
  3. Observing—scrutinizing the behavior of others in, around, and outside your sphere.
  4. Networking—meeting people with both common and different perspectives.
  5. Experimenting—constructing interactive experiences and provoking unorthodox responses to see what insights emerge.

Read this as — listen, watch, ask, mingle, and stir. Sir Richard Branson has a mantra that’s bred into the corporate DNA of his Virgin staff — A-B-C-D — Always Be Connecting Dots. Branson swears that creativity is a practice and if you practice these five behaviors every day, you will improve your skills in creativity and innovation.

Now, if these five behaviors put you in the right direction for improving creativity, then there must be behaviors to avoid. I found eight:

  1. Lack of courage—being fearful of taking chances, scared of venturing down new roads, and timid about taking the road less traveled. Fear is the biggest enemy of creativity. You need to be courageous and take chances.
  2. Premature judgment—second-guessing and early judgment of outcome severely restrict your ability to generate ideas and freely innovate. Let your initial path expand and follow it to its inevitable destination.
  3. Avoidance of failure—you can’t be bold and creative if you fear failure. Creativity requires risk and making mistakes. They’re part of the process.
  4. Comparing with others—this robs your unique innovation and imagination. Set your own standards. Be different. Something new is always different.
  5. Discomfort with uncertainty—creativity requires letting go and the process doesn’t always behave rationally. Accept that there’s something akin to paranormal in real creativity.
  6. Taking criticism personally—feedback is healthy, even if it’s blunt and harsh like 1&2-Star Amazon reviews. Ignore ridicule. Have thick skin, a tough hide, and don’t let criticism get to you.
  7. Lack of confidence—a certain level of uncertainty comes with any new venture. Some self-doubt is normal but if it becomes overwhelming and long-lasting, it will shut down your creative abilities. The best way to create is to first connect with your self-confidence.
  8. Analysis paralysis—overthinking renders you unable to make a decision because of information overload. “Go with your gut” is the answer to analysis paralysis.

Aside from positive and negative behaviors, there is one overall and outstanding quality that drives successfully creative people.

Passion…

Passion is the secret to creativity. It’s the underlying feature that’s laced the successes of all prominent creators in history.

Garry Rodgers—June 29, 2023

***

  1. What qualities do you believe creative people possess?
  2. What ways do you like to let your creativity play?
  3. What behaviors have helped your creativity? What ones have hindered you?

What Artificial Intelligence Can’t Give a Writer

by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

Kathleen Turner in Romancing the Stone

This is a long one. Pack a lunch.

I hesitated to write yet another post about AI. The blogosphere is jam-packed with thoughts, opinions, screeds, exaltations, and jeremiads concerning this quantum leap in machine capacity.

For writers, there is no end of discussion on the use (or abuse) of AI in the writing of a book. For me, that consideration boils down to this: AI is an amazingly powerful tool—and time saver—for things like research, brainstorming, book descriptions, synopses, series bibles and so on. But where the rubber meets the road—or the words meet the page—is when the machine writes the actual prose that will appear in the final product issued under the author’s name. That is a line I refuse to cross. Why I don’t is the subject of this post.

Before I get to the main point, allow me a small excursus on writing for money. It’s okay to do that! The pulp writers of old wrote for money, especially during the Depression. They learned the formulae for romance, mystery, fantasy, and adventure. They churned out stories for which they were paid. That’s called free enterprise. The best of them added their unique voice to set them above the average pulpster. You had the sharp leanness of Dashiell Hammett, the thunder and lightning of Robert E. Howard, the cynical snap of Raymond Chandler.

But now AI can churn out formulaic novels with a few clicks of the Return key. Anyone with a modicum of computer sense (not really a “writer” if they don’t do the actual writing) can produce a product that can be sold online. Such a producer might turn out five, ten, fifteen books a month, in the hope that sheer volume will return some hearty ducats.

It’s possible to tell Chat or Grok or some other machine to come up with a complete outline for a fantasy, and then tell it to write scenes “in the style of” Brandon Sanderson or George R. R. Martin or Patrick Rothfuss and boom, a day or two later you’ve got a novel.

That’s legal. But is it ethical? I decided to ask Grok (**irony alert**). Here’s the result. (I’ve redacted author names as I did not secure permission to include them.)

Yes, there are writers using AI to produce novels quickly, sometimes in a matter of days, and some are attempting to mimic the styles of famous authors. This practice is becoming more common as AI writing tools improve, but its legitimacy—both in terms of ethics and quality—is a subject of debate.

Several documented cases highlight this trend. For instance _____, a science fiction writer, used AI tools like ChatGPT, Anthropic’s Claude, and Midjourney to create 97 mini-novels (up to 5,000 words each) in just nine months. Each book took him six to eight hours, a fraction of the time traditional writing might require. Similarly, _____ generated a novel … in three hours using 66 prompts, winning second prize in a 2023 sci-fi competition.

As for mimicking famous authors, AI tools like NovelAI and Sudowrite allow users to train models on specific styles or prompt them to emulate authors like Agatha Christie or Stephen King. [A 2023 novel] was composed with large language models, drawing on styles of detective fiction writers like Raymond Chandler. However, the results often require human editing, as AI struggles to maintain coherence over long narratives or fully capture the nuanced voice of a specific author.

Is This Legitimate?
The legitimacy depends on perspective:

  • Creative and Practical Legitimacy: From a production standpoint, it’s legitimate in that it works—AI can generate readable content quickly. Some authors argue it enhances their creativity, acting as a tool to brainstorm and draft. _____, an indie author, uses Sudowrite to meet tight deadlines, producing a novel every nine weeks. Tools like Squibler and Jasper also market themselves to authors, offering features to generate outlines or full drafts in minutes. Readers often buy these works (selling for $1.99-$3.99), suggesting some market acceptance.
  • Quality Concerns: Critics argue the output lacks depth. Significant human curation is needed to stitch AI outputs into a cohesive narrative. Off-the-shelf models like GPT or Claude often produce generic or inconsistent prose when tasked with mimicking complex styles, as noted by writers like _____, who found AI-generated text fell short of his voice.
  • Ethical and Legal Issues: The ethics are murkier. Many authors, backed by the Authors Guild (over 10,000 signed a 2023 letter), argue that AI tools trained on copyrighted works without permission constitute theft. If a writer prompts AI to “write like Dan Brown,” it’s likely drawing on his style without consent, raising ethical questions. Legally, AI-generated works face copyright ambiguity—U.S. law traditionally requires human authorship, and the extent of human involvement (e.g., editing vs. pure generation) complicates ownership. There’s also the question of transparency: should authors disclose AI use?
  • Cultural Reception: Some see it as a betrayal of the craft. Traditional authors value the slow, personal process of writing, as expressed in a 2023 Los Angeles Times piece, fearing AI erodes the human eccentricity that defines literature. Others view it as a practical evolution, akin to using a thesaurus, especially for indie authors under pressure to publish fast on platforms like Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing.

Conclusion

Yes, writers are using AI to churn out novels in days, sometimes in the style of famous authors, enabled by tools like ChatGPT, Sudowrite, and NovelAI. It’s technically feasible and has a niche audience, particularly in self-publishing. However, its legitimacy is contested: it’s a powerful tool for speed and ideation, but the quality often lags, and ethical-legal concerns linger. For now, it’s a hybrid process—AI accelerates drafting, but human skill is still key to polish and authenticity. Whether it’s “legitimate” depends on your stance: a pragmatic shortcut for some, a creative compromise for others.

Got all that? Want to put out a novel a day? You won’t get arrested. And maybe the actual output, with help, can produce competent fiction.

But I believe there’s something you will miss, something AI can never give you: truly and deeply experiencing the lives of the characters you lovingly bring to life on the page. A machine can’t hand you that feeling; it can only come from inside you, churning through the heart, flowing through your fingertips as you type the words. And when you finally type The End there’s a certain euphoria that is only bequeathed to the writer who has “opened a vein.” The lifeblood of a story can’t be given by transfusion. It has to come from within.

Ray Bradbury wrote in Zen in the Art of Writing:

If you are writing without zest, without gusto, without love, without fun, you’re only half a writer. It means you are so busy keeping one eye on the commercial market, or one year peeled for the avant-garde coterie, that you are not being yourself you don’t even know yourself. For the first thing writer should be is excited. He should be a thing of fevers and enthusiasms. Without such a vigor, he might as well be out picking peaches or digging ditches; God knows it’d be better for his health.

I’ve experienced zest with every novel I’ve finished. A few times the experience has been overpowering.

Case in point. I wrote a trilogy, the Ty Buchanan series. Over the course of these legal thrillers there’s a love story. When I typed the last line, the most perfect I’ve ever written (for me, at least) I burst into tears. I mean, just like that first scene in Romancing the Stone where Kathleen Turner, at her keyboard with headphones on, types the last word of her novel. Weeping and laughing she utters, “Oh, God, that’s good!” It happened to me because I both created and experienced every emotion of every character over a three-book span.

I will not trade away that feeling. Besides, I believe it has value for the reader, too. I believe most readers sense when a book’s been written from a vibrating human heart, or hasn’t. As Carl Sandburg once said, “No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.”

Secondarily, I’m also wary of too much “cognitive offloading.” Another reason I write the words is to keep my brain in shape. If AI does that for me, my synapses stop firing. It’s like watching pickleball on TV every day instead of playing it yourself. Doesn’t do the body much good, does it? As one source puts it: “The long-term reliance on AI for cognitive offloading could also erode essential cognitive skills such as memory retention, analytical thinking, and problem-solving. As individuals increasingly rely on AI tools, their internal cognitive abilities may atrophy, leading to diminished long-term memory and cognitive health.”

I’ll finish with this. In my favorite movie, Shane, there’s a magnificent moment in the beginning where Shane, the mysterious stranger passing through, has been shown hospitality by the Starrett family—Joe, his wife Marian, and their boy, Joey. After a hearty meal, Shane excuses himself and goes outside. He’s about to express his gratitude without words. For in the yard is a big old stump that Joe has long been chopping away at.

Shane picks up an ax and starts hacking. Joe joins him and the two work into early evening.

They make their final push on the stump. It barely moves.

Joe’s wife sensibly suggests they hitch up a team of horses to pull it out. Joe says, “Marian, I’ve been fighting this stump off and on for two years. Use the team now and this stump could say it beat us. Sometimes nothing will do but your own sweat and muscle.”

Joe and Shane lay into that stump and with a final, mighty push, uproot it.

I guess I feel like Joe Starrett. There’s some things that won’t do for me as a writer but my own “sweat and muscle.”

I’ve gone on too long and I’m still thinking this all through. Please let me know your thoughts in the comments!

Here’s that scene from Shane:

Curiosity, Creativity, and Connections

by Debbie Burke

@burke_writer

Mark Leichliter and Debbie Burke

A few days ago, my friend and writing colleague Mark Leichliter (who also writes as “Mark Hummel“) spoke to a group at a local active senior community.

Mark is a delightful, articulate guy who writes mystery and literary fiction. He also ghostwrites and teaches creative writing, although he finds the term “creative writing” redundant because he says, “All writing is creative.”

He’s the teacher you wish you’d had or would choose to teach your kids. He treats students as individuals, listening to their needs, encouraging them to pursue their dreams. Years after they graduate, students stay in touch with him.

I learned about Mark’s appearance at the senior community a short time before and on the spur of the moment decided to attend.

I didn’t expect his talk to lead to a post for TKZ. But here it is.

First thing Mark did was to rearrange the chairs from auditorium-style seating into a circle. “I want this to be a conversation, not a lecture,” he said. “I want to learn from you in the audience.”

His premise began that curiosity and creativity are linked. Curious people are also often creative. Curiosity makes them eager to learn and they create art, music, poetry, books, buildings, automobiles, recipes, etc. from what they learn.

I mentioned creativity was also the ability to take apparently unrelated ideas and find a connection between them.

Mark laughed and said I must be his shill because the concept of connection led into his next point.

He cited a friend who’s now writing a memoir. “Al” was a former mining engineer tasked with building a gold mine in Columbia. His employer was willing to pay top wages to attract workers to an area that was otherwise desolate. Al could have simply built the mine then moved on, one and done.

Instead, he was curious about the people and surroundings. He spent weeks exploring and talking with them, and learned there was no infrastructure, no water or power. Those conditions meant that workers couldn’t bring their families with them to the new mining jobs. A lucrative paycheck was a draw, but it wasn’t enough.

Al’s creativity took over. He connected the needs of the mine with the needs of the workers and projected into the future.

A mine would do well but was a finite operation—it lasted several years then shut down. He convinced mine owners to pay workers a little less and instead to budget that money to bring in electricity and water, leading to building a town with a grocery store to provide food, a school to educate their children, and other services. Mining would “do well” but building a lasting community would “do good.”

Al is now using curiosity and creativity to connect events in his life and solve problems as he writes his memoir.

Mark then asked the group about their individual creative endeavors.

A woman related that she and her husband had traveled extensively, getting to know and live with residents of other countries. Their endless curiosity about other cultures led to broadening their knowledge and understanding, resulting in rich rewards they never could have anticipated.

Another woman said she quilted, using fabric from her grandchildren’s outgrown clothes and sports uniforms. She created quilts that reflected each child’s particular interest and favorite activities, a physical, visual canvas of the stories of their lives.

Another said she was creating an “ethical will.” Instead of leaving material possessions to her children and grandchildren, she wants to leave family memories, lessons learned, advice, etc. in written form. Her title is More Than Stuff.

Another said she’d published a family history without telling her siblings. When she eventually let them know, a sister revealed she too had published a family history without telling anyone. Not surprisingly, the stories were completely different, giving rise to disagreements: “That’s not how it happened!”

That led to group discussion of differing perceptions. The same event happens to each family member, but all have their own memory and interpretation of the incident that is often radically different from the others.

A genealogist commented that “a lot of family history is fiction,” which prompted knowing laughter in the group.

“Leaving a legacy” was the common theme among the audience.

Mark connected the legacy angle back to storytelling. Humans are curious about past events and why they happened. Storytelling is a creative way to preserve, understand, and pass down those events to educate future generations. Stories explore the reasons and causes behind life’s mysteries and strive to make sense of them. Stories also serve as vehicles to teach ways to solve problems and survive.

Mark made another point I hadn’t considered before. He said a book doesn’t fully exist without a reader. Other communication and entertainment forms like TV, films, streaming, etc. continue whether or not anyone is watching. They are one-way activities that don’t require participation.

In contrast, a book is a two-way interactive exchange. The author creates it but, until someone picks it up and starts reading, it simply sits there. It’s a repository of knowledge, waiting to interact with a person. When the connection between the author and reader is made, it opens the door to an entirely new world.

Curiosity, creativity, and connections.

Because I was curious about Mark’s talk, I picked up creative ideas from it, and connected them into today’s post. Thanks, Mark!

~~~

TKZers: Does curiosity enhance your creativity? Do such connections find their way into your writing? Please share some examples.

~~~

 

Curiosity leads investigator Tawny Lindholm into a creative deep fake trap. Can she connect clues in time to save herself and an unjustly accused woman? Find out in Deep Fake Double Down. 

Universal book link

Sleep: Embracing Your Inner Koala

“Happiness consists of getting enough sleep. Just that, nothing more.” –Robert A. Heinlein, Starship Troopers

* * *

Koala bears are the experts when it comes to sleep. An adult koala averages about twenty hours of sleep each day! To those of us who are trying to pack as much writing, marketing, networking, and everything else into a 24-hour time period, that seems a little excessive..

So why do those cute, furry critters need so much sleep? Koalas exist primarily on a diet of toxic eucalyptus leaves, and it takes a lot of energy for their digestive systems to break down the leaves which turn out to be low in nutrients to begin with. Bottom line: koala bears get the amount of sleep they need to support their lifestyle.

So how does that apply to humans?

* * *

“A good laugh and a long sleep are the best cures in the doctor’s book.” –Irish Proverb

We all know that a good night’s sleep is essential for good health. Good sleeping habits help us maintain a healthy weight, lower stress levels, repair body tissue, and give us an overall sense of well-being. According to sleepfoundation.org, sleep is also conducive to mental acuity.

Sleep is believed to help with memory and cognitive thinking. Brain plasticity theory, a major theory on why humans sleep, posits that sleep is necessary so the brain can grow, reorganize, restructure, and make new neural connections. These connections in the brain help individuals learn new information and form memories during sleep. In other words, a good night’s sleep can lead to better problem-solving and decision-making skills.

Better sleep means better thinking, but how about creativity?

* * *

“Man is a genius when he is dreaming.” –Akira Kurosawa, Japanese Film Director

It turns out creativity and sleep are related.

Scientists generally divide sleep into two categories: Non-rapid eye movement (Non-REM) sleep and Rapid Eye Movement (REM) sleep.

Ideatovalue.com posted an article that compared the two categories and examined their effects on creativity.

  • Non-REM sleep is where information we engaged with during the day is processed and formed into memories

  • REM sleep is where those new memories are compared and integrated into all of the previous knowledge and memories we have. This is also usually when we dream. This may form new novel associations between distant pieces of information, a vital component for new ideas

The article concludes:

This would imply that REM sleep is important for not only our ability to associate new ideas and solve existing problems, but also form new original and divergently creative ideas.

Okay. We need a good night’s sleep to perform at our best, but how do we get it?

* * *

“A well-spent day brings happy sleep.” –Leonardo da Vinci

How much sleep do we need to maximize creativity? The National institutes of Health recommends adults get seven to nine hours of sleep a night. And how can you ensure a good night’s sleep? The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recommend

  • Be consistent. Go to bed at the same time each night and get up at the same time each morning, including on the weekends

  • Make sure your bedroom is quiet, dark, relaxing, and at a comfortable temperature

  • Remove electronic devices, such as TVs, computers, and smart phones, from the bedroom

  • Avoid large meals, caffeine, and alcohol before bedtime

  • Get some exercise. Being physically active during the day can help you fall asleep more easily at night.

* * *

So TKZers: Have you noticed a connection between sleep and creativity? How much sleep do you get each night? Do you remember your dreams and use them in your stories? Have you recovered from losing an hour of sleep to Daylight Savings Time?

* * *

Private pilot Cassie Deakin lands in the middle of a nightmare when she finds her beloved Uncle Charlie has been assaulted by thieves. Then things get worse.

Buy on AmazonBarnes & NobleKoboGoogle Play, or Apple Books.

 

The Trapdoor on Top of Your Skull

by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

In his early years as a writer, Ray Bradbury made lists of nouns based on childhood memories. Things like: The Lake, The Night, The Crickets, The Ravine.

“These lists were the provocations,” he wrote in Zen in the Art of Writing, “that caused my better stuff to surface. I was feeling my way toward something honest, hidden under the trapdoor on the top of my skull.”

I love that metaphor of the trapdoor. We need to flip that door open and shine a light down where all the “better stuff” is.

What did Bradbury mean by that? I think he meant what comes from deep, emotional resonance. It’s what you can’t put into words to define it; but what you must put into words to create it—first for you, then for your reader.

I’ve written some scenes that I’ve gotten emails about. When I look at those I find inevitably they came to me after I opened the trapdoor.

How do you do that?

You make a list like Bradbury’s. Find some time to get alone, take a some deep breaths, and just start remembering….write down all the images and smells and sounds that come to mind. Don’t judge any of it. You’re recording, not fictionalizing. When you get tired, take a break, then come back and add to this list. Put it aside for awhile. Then read it over and highlight the words that generate the most emotion inside you.

I guarantee you’ll find story gold. You can transmute those feelings into your Lead character. You can create moments in your book that will connect with readers in a powerful way. You can also mine the list for short story subject matter. That’s what I like to do most with my own list. (Hat tip to Dale for yesterday’s post which prompted this one.)

I was looking at my list a few years ago when I stopped on The Cigar. That word was there because of my father. To this day when I get a whiff of cigar smoke, I think of Dad. This time when I read the word I flashed back to a scene from my own life, involving me, a liquor store, and a box of Dutch Masters. The emotion of what happened—embarrassment—gave me an idea for a short story called “My Father’s Birthday.”

I published it. And apparently that emotional resonance I mentioned above was there for many readers. If you’ll allow me two clips from the reviews:

Then, in only 12 pages, he ties all his plot threads together to impart an emotional impact that a lot of authors wouldn’t be able to do in a book-length memoir. Indeed, other writers could have turned the bares storyline of “My Father’s Birthday” into an entertaining short story. Few could produce one with the same lasting impact.

***

I’m telling you, this author has the power to take a person on an emotionally resonant trip down memory lane.

I show you those simply to demonstrate what opening the trapdoor on top of your skull can do for a story. If you’d like to read the story itself, I’ve made it free today for your Kindle or Kindle app. Click here. Outside the U.S., go to your Amazon site and search for: B081THHSYL

Try this: Right now, write down three nouns from your childhood, pictures under your trapdoor. Go ahead. I’ll wait. 

Now pick one of them and share it with us. Why that word? What’s the emotional resonance for you? Have you used it in one of your stories?

Brainstorming Words of Wisdom

Today’s Words of Wisdom brings three excerpts from the KZB archives dealing with a very useful tool for writers: brainstorming.

Steven James gives ways to inject creativity into your writing which can help with brainstorming, PJ Parrish shares a classic approach to brainstorming, and James Scott Bell provides more brainstorming tips.

The full posts are especially worth reading this time, since there’s even more advice in the originals. Each is linked from the respective date at the end of its excerpt.

Most of us know what it feels like to be uncreative—our ideas are stale and dry, our writing is boring and predictable. We long to inject our stories with ideas that are fresh, original, inventive, and spontaneous.

But how do you do it?

Here are four ways:

  1. Explore Your L.I.F.E.
    When you don’t know where else to turn, explore L.I.F.E., an acronym for Literature, Imagination, Folklore, and Experience. L.I.F.E. is a limitless well of ideas waiting to be tapped into.
    Coax new stories from classic plots by setting them in a different time and place; examine your imagination for themes that pique your interest; search through the timeless motifs of myth, fairy tale and folklore; scour the expanses of your own experience to spark new ideas. Let your memories come alive!

Some memories inspire us, others haunt us. Some memories cling to things we own, others hover around places we’ve been. Start with what you have, nurture that fragment of a memory: your teacher’s face, the smell of your grandmother’s cookies, the charming way your father used to whistle, the chill in your soul as you rushed to the hospital, the taste of salt spray that summer at the ocean, how it felt to hold your daughter’s hand for the first time. Turn those memories over in your mind, flesh them out, allow them to breathe.

Every vivid memory is a garden of ripe plot ideas waiting to be harvested.

  1. Change Your Perspective
    A few years ago while visiting a hotel in Denver, I noticed “EXIT” signs not only above the exit doors, but also at their base. “How odd!” I thought. “Only someone crawling on the floor would need a sign down there!”

Aha.

Whoever placed those signs down low had looked at the doors through the eyes of someone crawling for safety during a fire.

Creativity isn’t “seeing what no one else sees,” it’s “seeing what anyone else would see–if only they were looking.” New ideas are born when we view life from a fresh perspective or peer at the world through another set of eyes.

Keep ideas alive by working backwards and sideways, by peering over your shoulder rather than always staring straight ahead.  Remember, you don’t dance in a straight line.

So take a moment and look at your story from another person’s perspective. Step into the shoes of your main character and write a journal entry, a complaint letter, or a love note. Switch your point of view. Write a few paragraphs in first person or third person. Think of how you would respond if you were in the story. Walk through the action, stand on your desk, crawl on the floor. And keep your eyes open for the doors no one else has noticed.

Steven James—February 10, 2014

Here’s my main take-aways from Osborn’s ideas on brainstorming.

  1. Think up as many ideas as possible regardless of how ridiculous they may seem. It’s unlikely you’ll get the perfect solution right off the bat, so he recommends getting every idea out of your head and then go back to examine them afterwards. An idea that may sound crazy may actually turn out to work with a little modification.

Doesn’t this make sense when you’re plotting? I know when Kelly and I talk, we throw everything on the wall. You need to take the same approach with yourself. Write down every idea and let them bake for a while. Sometimes, the most outrageous thing leads to something useful.

  1. Don’t be judgmental.All ideas are considered legitimate and often the most far-fetched are the most fertile. Ideas can be evaluated after the brainstorming session but judgments during the process should be withheld.

Are you sometimes too hard on yourself? Do you think, “Oh, that’s so stupid, no editor will ever buy it.” Or maybe you are a self-doubter, telling yourself, “I don’t have the chops to try this technique.” Or: “This is a great idea but it’s so complex so I won’t even try.”

  1. Go for quantity not quality.Don’t get hung up (like I often do) on coming up with the most clever solution to your writing problem. Let your brain waves flow so the bad stuff bobs up to the surface along with the good. Osborn said: “Creativity is so delicate a flower that praise tends to make it bloom while discouragement often nips it in the bud. Forget quality; aim to get a quantity of answers. When you’re through, your sheet of paper may be so full of ridiculous nonsense that you’ll be disgusted. Never mind. You’re loosening up your unfettered imagination—making your mind deliver.”

Osborn’s books were geared more toward corporate types trying to get their teams to think more creatively on things like how to get traffic flowing better in big cities. But take a look at his suggestions for improving creativity and see if there’s not something here for us mere writers:

  1. Break up the problem into smaller pieces. For writers, this can mean tackling each plot or character problem as manageable bites, not getting overwhelmed by the idea that you’ve got 400 pages to fill. Get that first draft written then go back and fix your plot holes or layer your characters better.
  2. Search for alternatives.If you’ve painted yourself into a plot corner, look for a different way out than the old ways.
  3. What can be borrowed or adapted?Read other writers and learn from them.
  4. Modify with new twists.There aren’t many new plots in crime fiction but there is always a way to put your own fresh imprint on them.
  5. Is there something that can be magnified or minified?Maybe the stakes in your thriller aren’t high enough. Maybe you need to play down a secondary character who is overshadowing your hero. Are you larding in too much research?
  6. What can be substituted?Maybe if you changed your location the story would suddenly come alive. Would your mystery work better in a small town where you could exploit the English village dynamic? Is your setting banal and underwritten? Are you hitting all the wrong clichés if your book is set in Paris or some other iconic place?
  7. What can be re-arranged?Maybe you’re writing in the wrong point of view? Try switching from first to third. Or maybe the guy you think is your hero is really the bad guy?

PJ Parrish—March 10, 2015

She asked, “Would love any brainstorming tips and tricks if you have them! How do you start building your story and characters? And how do you feel productive and intentional when brainstorming is such a creative (often stubborn…at least for me) process?”

It’s a great question. Here is what I wrote to her:

I wonder if part of the deal is what so many of us have expressed over the years with each new book, that it seems to get “harder.” And the reason for that, I believe, is that with each book you’re better and your standards go up. You know what goes into writing a whole book, all the constituent parts, and think, “Man, I’ve got to do all that again! And better!” So every idea in the brainstorming phase gets tested, when it should be a time for getting as many ideas as you can without judgment.

FWIW, I do the following at the beginning of any project.

– A free-form journal, interacting with myself, asking myself questions, going deeper into why I think I want to write this, and also putting down plot and character ideas as they come. I take several days (at least) for this, writing without stopping, but re-reading the journal each day, doing some editing on what I wrote the day before, highlighting the best ideas, and so on.

– At some point I take a stack of 3 x 5 cards to Starbucks and just write down scene ideas. Random. Whatever vivid scene comes to mind. I might prompt myself by playing the dictionary game (opening a dictionary to a random page, picking a noun, and riffing off that). When I have 30-40 scenes I shuffle the deck and pick two cards at random and see what the connection suggests.

– Finally, I want my concept in a three-sentence elevator pitch that I know is absolutely solid and marketable. Sentence 1 is character + vocation + current situation. Sentence 2 starts with “When” and is what I call the Doorway of No Return––the thing that pushes the Lead into the main plot. Sentence 3 begins with “Now” and the death (physical, professional, or psychological/spiritual) stakes. Here’s an example based on The Insider by Reece Hirsch:

James Scott Bell—August 30, 2015

***

  1. What do you do to juice your creativity?
  2. What do you think of Osborn’s ideas on brainstorming? Is there one approach you want to try?
  3. Do you have tips on brainstorming? What works for you?