S.C. Skillman's Blog, page 68

How Can Carl Jung's Theory of Synchronicity Help You in Your Creative Writing?

Among his many theories, Carl Jung includes "synchronicity". This may be defined as "the meaningful patterning of two or more psycho-physical events not otherwise causally connected". I've known of this theory for several years, and have seen it operating not only in my life but in the lives of others. Now I realise how it can help creative writers too.Let me give you a few examples of synchronicity in my own experience. 

1.  I saw a Ulysses Butterfly (for the first time ever) on the first day I wore a t-shirt with a Ulysses butterfly on the front (given me by my sister several months before & not worn until that day).

2. During an Australian holiday several years later my friend wore a t-shirt whose colours and pattern exactly co-ordinated with the rainforest rock she was sitting on (confirmed later by me when I looked at the photo I took of her!)

3. A musician at the Greenbelt festival sang of childhood dreams you lose in adolescence and must hold onto, one hour after I had written out a card (in a marquee at the other end of the site in a separate event) asking God to help me fulfill my childhood dreams.

There are many other examples we can give; e.g. a song came into my head and I heard it sung an hour later; I thought of a phrase, or a piece of information I needed, and a book fell off the shelf and fell open at the page containing that phrase or information; I was talking about a certain problem involving 2 people, and immediately the phone rang, and someone was on the other end who wanted to talk to me about that exact problem and those same 2 people.

Each of these contain just two psycho-physical events, but many more dramatic examples are on record, of synchronicity involving multiple events. As a footnote to my blue butterfly example above, I may say that my business card features a blue butterfly, as does my log-in icon on my computer, because both the colour blue and the freedom of the butterfly hold a symbolic significance for me.

So how can this help creative writers? Here's how – I was reading Robert McKee's book "Story" the other day; and found, among the many aspects of story structure, this phrase: "meaning produces emotion". "Not money," he adds; "not sex; not special effects; not movie stars; not lush photography." He related his observations to movies, but they can just as easily be transposed to novels.

I recognised that behind this lies the truth that "man abhors a vacuum." We seek meaning above all. So much so, that the protagonist of a story can fail to achieve his object of desire, and yet we the readers and audience, can still love that story. This is because (according to the skill of the story-writer) "the flood of insight that pours from the gap delivers the hoped-for emotion but in a way we could never have foreseen."

A synchronistic series of events often centres on "a key image that can sum up and concentrate all meaning and emotion" – as in a great movie or novel. Consider the billboard image of Dr T J Eckleberg, the oculist, in Scott Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby"; or the image of the Eye of Sauron in "The Lord of the Rings".

Synchronistic events often incorporate images that come to us in dreams; for, of course, our dreaming minds can be the best movie directors of all. And synchronistic events can be used to great effect in a novel. But you the story-teller must take great care to ensure that you structure events so they don't strike the reader as random coincidence. Instead, "let the coincidence stay and gather meaning." Interestingly enough, this is exactly what synchronistic events do: they stay and gather meaning.

To me, all these facts of story structure serve to enhance the curious power of synchronicity. So how can I sum this up? Simply to remember, that "meaning" supplies all the power of synchronistic events, and all the power of a great story.  The art of the story-teller is only to structure his telling to serve this purpose.

 

SC Skillman

 

Entertaining Guide to Good Relationships

Rob Parsons has beguiled,moved,and doubled me up in laughter several times on this subject, both in person as an inspirational speaker, and in writing. Now he has again written on a topic that should be closely studied by policy-makers. If you're a parent, and you'd sooner your child achieved their critical acclaim and professional success in a couple of decades time by some other means than publishing their misery memoir, Rob Parsons sets it out in very simple,clear terms in "The Sixty Minute Family" (pub.Lion). One of his answers is as simple as a father spending ordinary time with his child – just "being there". And behind that is a truth: "relationships matter more than money". I expect many more books will be written in more complex terms, saying the same thing. Within classic story structure, what is the one most familiar trope a writer can always rely on? It's the Dysfunctional Parent/Child relationship. The Disney story writers trade on it, the psychiatrists and counsellors make their living from it; the radio interviewers and TV chat show hosts recognise it as their most fruitful area of analysis.Reading what Parsons has to say now (the book was published in 2010)I feel his stance has toughened since I first heard him on this subject. This book gives strong clues to the powerful influence of physically and emotionally absent parents upon the society we live in. But to end on an uplifting note, it may be, as Parsons says, that "most of us are doing a much better job of parenting than we think – and it normally turns out better than we dared hope".

SC Skillman

Novelists and Screenwriters – Where To Find All You Need To Know About Story Structure

Several years ago, I nearly signed on for Robert McKee's "Story Structure" workshop in London – tempted by the testimonial from John Cleese, who attributed his success in creating the Fawlty Towers scripts to what he learned from this workshop. But I saw it was essentially for screenwriters, and chose to pass on it.  I have since recognised that story structure  is universal, and applies not only to screenwriters, but also novelists. When I recently found this book in Waterstones Piccadilly, the inner voice said "Buy it!" And I obeyed.  Now I've absorbed all that McKee has to say about story, it will transform the way I work on the second draft of my new novel.

Story saturates our lives, through books, plays, the theatre, TV and radio drama, and movies; and we all respond to story instinctively. And yet if we were asked to explain why we respond as we do, and why something works or not, many of us would fall silent. But Robert McKee does explain. One thing that has long mystified me is: "How is it that we are satisfied by a story where the protagonist does not achieve his desire?"  McKee replies that "the flood of insight that pours from the gap delivers the hoped-for emotion, but in a way we could never have foreseen."  He illustrates his points with many references to famous movies. "Story" is a huge challenge; dense and even overwhelming, its author acknowledges this at the end: "You have pursued "Story" to its final chapter and, with this step, taken your career in a direction many writers fear… I know that when confronted with a rush of insights even the most experienced writer can be knocked off stride." I hope that, having studied thoughtfully, as I "follow the quest for stories told with meaning and beauty," I too may "write boldly" and produce stories that "will dazzle the world."

SC Skillman

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"intense psychological drama in a beautiful setting"

How To Successfully Write the Plot of Your Novel in Reverse

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How To Successfully Write the Plot of Your Story in Reverse

How do you write a good fiction story in reverse? This may seem a trick question until you realise this simple fact: a novel is defined by its outcome. Put it in another way; every story has a Controlling Idea; and this idea is embedded in the final climax of the story. You cannot know what you are really trying to say until you have your Controlling Idea. And the corollary of that is: you cannot find out what you are trying to say until you have written your story. So what do you do?

1. Do your thinking, your wondering, your research, perhaps even write a plan – just a way to trick the unconscious – then write the first draft without stopping to analyse or correct what you've written and without even being sure of exactly what you're trying to say – though you may have some vague notion. Go on the journey, let all the ideas pour out, and as you do so start learning who your journey companions – your characters – are, and reach the point where you set them free to surprise you and to take twists and turns you had never expected. Pass that point and continue on through all the unexpected deviations and contingencies and revelations – until you reach the story climax and know you have finished.

2. Leave the draft to marinate for a period of time; at least a number of weeks. Then come back to it, print it out, read it through, and see it afresh. Consider the Controlling Idea embedded in the story climax. It may be something very different to what you originally thought you were trying to say. Be sure you have clearly identified this idea; it must not be ambivalent. It may be negative, or positive, or ironic. But you can be sure that if you have followed your own instincts, this Controlling Idea will be your world view. It will be true to yourself, and not to what you imagine the world around you wants to hear; not even to match what you perceive to be the beliefs of a commercial audience. The paradox is this: your story will never please anyone else if it is not true to what you really believe.

3.Then write your story in reverse. Take your Controlling Idea, write it on a Post It Note, stick it your laptop/computer and go through your draft again, rewriting, setting every twist, every turning point, every reversal, every climax of every Act, in the light of that Controlling Idea.

Robert McKee in his book "Story" cites some examples of Controlling Ideas in famous movies to help you understand this concept: "Goodness triumphs when we outwit evil" (The Witches of Eastwick); "The power of nature will have the final say over mankind's futile efforts" (Elephant Man, The Birds, Scott of the Antarctic) or "Love fills our lives when we conquer intellectual illusions and follow our instincts" (Hannah And Her Sisters).

In conclusion, for a story-teller, one guiding principle stands out: "We have only one responsibility: to tell the truth."

SC Skillman

Staying Focused – Learning From St Paul

How do we stay focused when all that we hope for seems very far from being achieved? These are the words that inspire me as I write: Only let us live up to what we have already attained. They come from St. Paul's letter to his Christian friends at Philippi – chapter 3 verse 16. It is a measure of his psychological insight that these words apply not only specifically to the individuals he wrote to, but across time and culture to any of us who aim high in any field of endeavour at all.

But in the field of creative writing, how appropriate these words are. They are all about letting go of the negative, moving on from any feelings of inadequacy, and choosing not to focus on what hasn't worked. Earlier in this same passage, Paul says: Forgetting what is behind and straining towards what is ahead, I press on towards the goal to win the prize. In these words, he encapsulates something which is at the heart of all success.

In the time which has passed since the publication of my first novel, several wonderful things have happened, which have filled me with joy, which have encouraged me, which have taught me much. In addition to this, other things I hoped for have not happened – although there have been a number of intriguing little flashes of hope and possibility for the future. But only let me live up to what I have already attained. No words could be more relevant to me at the very moment of writing this.

These words aren't passive, purely about a positive attitude, as in Always Look on the Bright Side of Life. They are active, and require you to re-imagine your own story. Consider the example of Georges Melies, French illusionist and film-maker (1861-1938). In 1923, outraged at a tragic decline in his fortunes, he personally burned all of the negatives of his films that he had stored at his Montreuil studio plus many of the sets and costumes. Later he was recognised and honoured, and received the Legion of Honour from Lumiere himself. And now 200 of his remaining films have been released on DVD. But in that dark mood in 1923, he fell victim to a despair that these words could have lifted him from – he only needed to live up to all that he had attained.

So Paul's words remind us of our personal responsibility to acknowledge and build on all that is positive in our lives, even in the face of changeable feelings, to the extent of "acting as if" and then finding that the feelings – of encouragement and fresh hope – follow.

SC Skillman

 

S.C. Skillman is the author of "Mystical Circles", a psychological thriller. You can buy the novel on Amazon and through the Kindle Bookstore or visit the author's website to find out more. Click the secure payment gateway to buy a signed copy at http://www.scskillman.co.uk.

Inspiration for Creative Writers From Artists

Honesty and truthfulness – these are the outstanding virtues of a great artist. And as a creative writer I have in recent times found inspiration from two contemporary artists, Grayson Perry and Tracy Emin.

Both artists hold personal challenges for me; and the irony is that in the past – perhaps in my twenties – I would have disapproved of their work (or some of it) and even found it offensive. Therefore these two artists have a direct relevance to me, because they evoke strong reactions. Yet now their honesty compels me. And several elements of the autobiographical accounts of their social background have strong similarities to my own.

Both artists make use of phrases from our culture which they transform into art – neon signs, tapestries, lithographs, glazed vases; from a vase of Grayson Perry blaze the words "career advancement." These words are so evocative. They carry within them all sorts of presumptions, pretensions, falsehoods, eagerness to impress, compulsion to present a false picture of oneself to the world. And Tracey Emin describing her abortion experience on film is electrifying – simply because she is so honest.

In Grayson Perry's book Portrait of the Artist as a Young Girl, we find these words, an observation made by Wendy Jones who transcribed the tapes of his account: "During the interviews Grayson appeared almost physically malleable. It seemed that sometimes he would look like a First World War pilot, then a mediaeval minstrel, then a housewife suffering from ennui, then an elegant hurdler. He was always morphing – I hadn't come across that before and I doubt I shall see it often again."

This capacity to morph strikes a chord in my own experience and is described in my own novel Mystical Circles where it is eventually understood as part of the shapeshifting gifts of a shaman. Wendy Jones' description was fascinating to me as I have known of those who morph in this fashion and have witnessed it myself and worked it into my own fiction.

Grayson Perry suggests that we "sit lightly to our beliefs", and "let go of a compulsion to seek meaning – we will enoy life in this world much more." His art bears this out; everything is referred back to his childhood teddy Alan Measles, everything set against that barometer of his childlike perceptions, even to the extent of expressing his tranvestism by dressing as a little girl.

The irony and humour and poignancy of my reaction to these two artists is compelling when I consider my own background and personal history and creative journey. Both Perry and Emin have vitally important things to say to me, strong challenges to make to me. I cannot ignore these challenges as a creative writer. A writer must above all "come clean with himself."

SC Skillman

The Christmas List

Who else finds writing Christmas cards the cause not just of gladness but pain and sorrow? I put off "doing" my Christmas list until I'm in the mood – and light a candle and have a glass of sherry or wine to help create that mood. Why? Because each year I have to engage with the major change in people's lives; the gap of a year between communications throws those changes – for good and for bad – into sharp relief.

There are those who must now be addressed The … Family, because a new baby has been born. You remember the mother as a tiny blonde cherub herself. Then there are the divorces, where you refer back to the previous year's Christmas newsletter and gaze at the photo of the mother with her two tall sons, and remember when you rejoiced at her marriage, at the news of the arrival of their first baby… and now "he" has disappeared from their lives, and is no longer referred to. Then there's the lady whose previous husband beat her up – a fact she communicated to you in a Christmas newsletter 5 years ago – and who sent you the news 3 years ago that she was marrying someone else she only referred to by his first name – and hasn't been in touch since. You'd like to try and restore the lines of communication, but you only have the surname of the ex-husband. You presume she's now living with the new man – unless that relationship too has broken up – but you're not quite sure, and you have to address her  in such a way that takes account of different possible scenarios.

And there are the couples whose children have now grown up and left home and started their own families, so you can now revert to sending cards to the couple alone, without their children's names… and that feels sad too, despite the fact that this has been in many ways a happy change.

Then there are the people who have died, and whose names have to be crossed off your Christmas list and out of your address book – a task that always feels callous to me, every time I do it. And the people you're going to send a card to who may well have died, but nobody has told you, so you won't know, unless your card is returned to you by some helpful relative in the New Year.

So much change for good or bad. Then it occurs to me that at least my own family unit is "the same as last year" and perhaps that fact alone is a cause for at least one small flare of gladness and relief in the hearts of those who receive our greetings.

But should it be? For those on our Christmas list often only communicate the stark facts that will affect the way we address our envelopes to them next year. Behind it all lies the complex reality of their lives. As a novelist I know what is in my characters' hearts; but not in the hearts of everyone on my Christmas list –  the new parents, the newly-bereaved, the freshly-betrayed, the lonely, the divorced, even those who superficially appear to have everything in order, even those who claim success and triumph all round for every member of the family… their lives are far more complex than can ever be conveyed in the artificial confines of the Christmas card or newsletter.

Perhaps the candle flame is there  to remind me of that.

How To Pick a Topic to Write Creatively About

Creativity as a process has only one true source, across all fields of creative endeavour, whether that be in the arts or the sciences – and that is, the unconscious. Ayd Instone in "Creativity and the Beatles" has this to say: "It wasn't until 1995 that Paul McCartney realised…that his 1965 song, Yesterday, apparently on the surface, about the loss of a lover was actually about the very real loss of his own mother a few years earlier from cancer… a pain that he wasn't consciously aware of when he wrote it… Perhaps creativity is a ghost after all, a spectre of energy, emotion and hidden memory that at certain times, perhaps when we least expect it, will come to haunt us".

It is well known that the idea for the tune of "Yesterday" first came to Paul McCartney in a dream. Dreams have a large part to play in how our unconscious minds communicate with us.

Whether we write, or whether we create in any other field, for the initial inspiration we are reliant on the unconscious. This can make us insecure and vulnerable; for control comes from the conscious mind, and the unconscious lies beyond. Of course, there's a time when structure and reason are vital; but my point here is that when you pick your topic to write creatively about, behind all your conscious selections there will be something else at work that you can have no control over at all.

And many great novels which catch the imagination of large readerships have been based on ideas that arose from the author's unconscious. Take for instance the story of "Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde". These characters came to Robert Louis Stevenson in a dream. And the novelist John Fowles has said that the first idea for "The French Lieutenant's Woman" came to him simply through an image of a woman standing alone at the end of the Cobb at Lyme Regis, gazing out to sea. He didn't know where the image had come from. But there it was – and a novel arose from it. And creativity is not confined to the arts. Scientists too are creative. Thomas Edison said many of his most brilliant ideas and insights came to him in his "creative alpha state" between wakefulness and sleep.

Therefore I believe the answer to the challenge of "How to pick a topic to write creatively about" lies in your unconscious mind. This is the key to the creative process.

Learning From Hemingway

Ernest Hemingway said, "The most essential gift for a good writer is a built-in, shock-proof shit-detector. This is the writer's radar and all great writers have had it." By this Hemingway signalled the vital importance of honesty and truth in creative writing – and these two are not easily found, least of all by the writer himself in the very act of writing.

I have known these words of Hemingway's for two or three decades now; and on several occasions in my writing life they have come to the fore of my consciousness. Not only have I personally experienced their relevance in all the failings and small triumphs of my writing life; but I see that Hemingway touches upon something so vital, it never loses its relevance and practical importance throughout a writer's life, to the moment of death.

When I write a first draft of a novel, even if writing to a rough plan, I find that I write most fluently in the same way I used to "waffle" in my English essays at school. That is the only way to get a first draft completed, I find, in a relatively short period of time (i.e. a couple of months). The greatest challenge lies in the writer's ability to keep writing despite the fact that they strongly suspect Hemingway's detector, referred to above, would probably break down through wear and tear if it ranged over this particular manuscript.

The time for Hemingway's detector to spring into action is when you come to read over your manuscript. I have found that there is nothing so exposing as creative writing. If you are a snob, or a racist, or a prude, or greedy, or morally shabby or lazy, be sure your writing will find you out. I have struggled with the things I have learned about myself which stand exposed in my own manuscript. This may well be why so many would-be writers give up. But if you are a true writer, you will take hold of Hemingway's detector and scan it over your manuscript. I have found all sorts of moralising, self-righteousness, pontificating elements in my tone and plot and ideas, whilst using Hemingway's detector; and have transformed my own attitude to the behaviour of my characters.

What I have learned from the use of Hemingway's detector is that in creative writing, none of us have the right to stand in judgement over the behaviour of our own characters. If we do, be sure it will register on Hemingway's detector.

Therefore, the key points of the lesson are painful and strict self-examination; followed by the guts to go forward with what you have learned, and to act on it. We all know Hemingway did that, in his writing. But I believe this applies to every writer, at whatever stage. If this were not true, his words wouldn't keep surfacing through the years, and reminding me of the challenge I have set myself.