Wired for Story is an excellent book about fiction writing with the wrong title. First, the book is definitely geared towards fiction writing, even though the title makes it sound more general. Some of the advice in this book translates very easily to all writing, but I struggled to convert some of the advice to the non-fiction writing that I was mostly interested in. Secondly, the title makes it sound like the book is primarily about brain science, but in fact, there is almost no brain science at all in the book.
The neuroscience that is presented is general and vague and only loosely connected to the writing advice. Most of the brain science is summarized as "cognitive secrets" that begin each of the chapters. Some of these "cognitive secrets" are dubious given what we know about neuroscience or difficult to understand. They help scaffold the writing tips well, but as a neuroscientist, I was getting really hung up on how the cognitive statements were presented - phrases like, "we think in story," "if we're not feeling [emotion] we're not conscious," "we don't think in the abstract," and "the brain is wired to stubbornly resist change, even good change." There is very little actual support for the neuroscientific or cognitive statements. Mostly there will be a couple of anecdotes or quotes from popular science writers, who are sometimes also scientists. Some of the concepts that are presented as neuroscience are distantly used to support a topic in writing. Here is an example to give you an idea of the flavor, using the neuroscience topic of emergent properties to convince writers that their vision will be evident without them needing to explicitly present their specific ideas about the world: "As neuroscientist David Eagleman says, 'when you put together large numbers of pieces and parts, the whole can become something larger than the sum. The concept of emergent properties means that something new can be introduced that is not inherent in any of the parts.' What emerges is your vision, seen through the eyes of your readers, experienced by your readers."
The only example I remember of an actual study being cited was a 2010 paper that found that different parts of the brain were activated by different elements of story vignettes. These different activated brain areas overlapped with areas that had been shown in other papers to be involved in the actual experience of the activity. So for example, a motor area in the brain may become active when reading about a character executing a motor action. This paper was used to support the assertion that reading simulates real-world activities. To me, this was an interesting fact about how the brain works that wasn't actually needed to support Cron's point, so I wasn't exactly sure why it was there. I found myself wondering what the conclusion would even be if only one area of the brain...say a reading area...was active during the reading in the study. I would have concluded that the apparent simulation of real-world activities that occurs in my mind is supported by this one area instead of the many different areas that it appears to be. It doesn't seem necessary to claim that the brain is simulating real-world activities - especially when that simulation is pretty self-evident to everyone who uses their imagination.
To me, this poor use of neuroscience struck me as a missed opportunity for a really interesting book described by this title. I kept thinking of lots of applications to writing that were probably supported by studies in cognitive neuroscience or cognitive psychology. How many characters can an average person track over some defined period of time? How many levels of intention can an average person track (i.e. who knows what about who knows what about ....etc.)? How long can the average person remember a detail containing important information for predicting something later on? What salient ways can you draw the reader's attention to extra important information? How much suffering can a reader read about before they get emotionally drained themselves?
Once I got over the fact that there wasn't going to be any neuroscience, even though the book was chosen for a neuroscience book club, I found the advice quite helpful. I dabble a bit in fiction writing, and the advice helped clarify a lot why some things work and some things don't in my own writing. It also gave me lots of ideas about how to improve. I see a lot of Goodreads reviews about how a lot of the tips in the book are sort of offensively obvious. Most of the tips do seem obvious after you read them because they are so clearly presented and make so much sense. It leaves you feeling a little bit stupid that you weren't already writing along such obvious principles. But if I'm reflecting honestly, I definitely wasn't using these sorts of "obvious" principles to guide my writing before reading this book.
Overall, I liked the book and thought it was an engaging guidebook for writing good fiction, but I do not think that it applies to all kinds of writing, and I do not agree that it is in any way a "guide to using brain science" to do anything.