Let your unconscious do the work

A previous post described using reflection to plumb your own depths for inspiration. But what about just going to sleep and letting your unconscious do the work?

I learned this trick from an author whose book I edited when I worked for a publisher. Carol (I’ll call her) was preceded by her reputation: she drove everyone crazy. But when I met her I realized she was just extremely right-brained and hyper-feminine—by which I mean she operated as far from logic and linear thinking as a person could and still be a full professor at a prestigious, male-dominated university. She had gotten her Ph.D. at a time when few women got Ph.D.’s, at another, similar university that was then quite hostile to women scholars, especially those who didn’t “think like men.” As I reconstruct it, she survived by surrounding herself with a kind of fog that made everything slightly unclear, effectively muddling the male professors who otherwise would have prevented her from doing her research the way she wanted.

She’d certainly created a muddle at my office. Her book was to have many illustrations, but nobody knew exactly how many. Everyone told me a different number. Under cover of this confusion Carol was set to slip far too many photos into her book, except that I checked her contract. When she showed up with an armload of prints, I said, “Your contract only calls for 100, so you have to cut 20 of these.” To my surprise, she went off happily and did it. I realized later that when she met me she knew intuitively that I couldn’t be muddled but I was also sympathetic to her vision for her book—and she was actually relieved that someone was cutting through the confusion.

So we got to be friendly, and she told me a couple of stories about how she worked that wound up profoundly influencing my own writing.

  • Back before computers (not to mention the internet), note-taking for research-based books was done with index cards. On each card you recorded one fact (or maybe a couple of related facts). You organized your book by arranging your cards. Most people filed them in shoeboxes. One box might hold the facts for a chapter, sorted in order. You pulled each card in turn out of the box and wrote its fact into your chapter.

Carol, however, made notes on little slips of paper which she threw into a bag. Whenever she needed to find something, she had to paw through the entire contents. (Knowing her, I visualize it as an embroidered silk or velvet bag.) “It took me six months longer than anyone else to write my dissertation,” she told me, “but going through all my research over and over like that enabled me to thoroughly absorb it and deeply integrate it into my thinking.”

This tale inspired me when I did my own research for my two books, Slaying the Mermaid and The Women Outside. I couldn’t stand the notion of index cards, so I took notes on yellow lined pads. (No laptops then to take to the library.) My facts weren’t as thoroughly mixed up as Carol’s scraps of paper, but I still had to read through everything when I was hunting some detail. Computer searches are a lot more efficient, but Carol was right—your material doesn’t sink in in quite the same way.

  • Even more critical for me was Carol’s second tip. “When I have a writing problem,” she confided, “I just put it into my mind before I go to sleep at night. Then in the morning, I know the answer.”

I’ve never done this precisely, but I’ve learned that the unconscious does a lot of work in the background while you’re otherwise occupied. If I’m not sure exactly how to frame an article, or how to express a certain idea, I have a choice: I can sit at my desk for hours and beat my brains out trying to come up with a solution. Or I can write the piece out as best I can, then put it aside and forget it for a couple of days. When I next pull it up onscreen, I pause at the first problematic passage and the right phrasing or idea just pops into my consciousness.

This is why I never, never let assignments go til the last minute. I always want those two days of off time to let my unconscious do the heavy lifting.

Not only does this tactic make assigned articles much easier, it’s just crucial for personal work. Not that I don’t sweat my brains out over that. But I do it so much more efficiently!



2 Responses to “Let your unconscious do the work”

  1. Saxon Henry Says:

    Stephanie:

    I’m so glad I found your blog. I have similar patterns when I’m writing. Two that come to mind: when I’m writing journalistic pieces, I tend to record the interviews. I take notes as well, but then, even if my notes are precise, I transcribe the interviews. I’ve had editors laugh at me, saying that I’m doing double work. It’s my way of doing what you and Carol do: going back over the notes again simply help me process what I’m going to write. Also, like you, I never leave a deadline to the last day. Things simply need to cook and that takes time.

    I’m just beginning to apply some of these principles to my creative writing and I am finding that I wake up at night with flashes that set my direction more firmly. I look forward to reading more of your blog when I’m not on deadline. Happy writing and Happy New Year!

  2. Stephanie Says:

    You have me beat there. I only record interviews when they’re for more creative work (or with doctors who talk really fast). But it’s quite true that the act of transcription really burns the material into your consciousness.

Leave a Reply