Walking on the Common, Prompts, 

the Unconscious, Our Past Lives

I post prompts for my Boot Campers, for fellow FaceBookers and (it appears) about five dozen people who regularly scan the prompts on my blog. What are they really, these prompts? Do they have a point? Am I advantaged because it’s me who generated those prompts, are they mine, do they suit me more than the casual reader? Do they work? Why can’t story-writers just do their own thing?

I’m sure there are other questions, but re-read the title to this article. Did you read it fully when you started or did you just glance and “not bother”, a title is a title is a title, right? Wrong.

I have tried to explain before that prompts can come from anywhere. They can come randomly: from snippets of overheard conversations, from a book title, a song you hear, from news, a phone bill, the TV, an advert, a telephone call, the small-print on the instructions for a new gadget — anywhere.

But I believe in HABIT, ritual, constancy, regularity (and redundant strings of nouns) so, usually I generate my prompts from scanning poetry books “to be struck mentally” or letters by (mostly) writers also “waiting to be struck” or “hearing someone speak” and so on.

I have previously made the point that, I may be channeling (say) TS Eliot but Eliot in turn was a product of his time, genteel, middle-class?, American-British, seemingly a bit sexually neutral, strongly influenced by Ezra Pound but both of these men, well-read, would have all those US authors, and Dickens, Austen, George Eliot and before that Shakespeare and Chaucer as milestones, And of course, great classics, Greek Fables, perhaps the bible.

These men are deep wells, reservoirs who took in the knowledge, the language, the voices, the phrasing of all those who came before and also “channeled” their literary ancestors. We read nothing “cold”, nothing without a history, nothing without ramification. We are part of what was written before, what was read, assimilated, combined and recombined, interpreted and re-interpreted. There is a DNA-chain of — if we could measure it, way back to grunts and scribbles on cave walls.

But we have to find ways to access those grunts, mumbles, scribbles. We need to find the key within ourselves to USE the past, to BE the past to reshape and play with the past, and the first, the most important part of that is NOT THINKING, but instead SINKING, sinking inside the sounds, the music the connections.

Instead of reading a prompt and clinically “considering it” and articulating possibilities, like this:

4506 Found in some  garbage somewhere

Right, umm, oh yeh, I could have this kid finds a leg in the garbage. Maybe the killer comes back and he knows someone touched the leg, and,,,

OR

She lost her wedding ring, and the marriage was faltering, but a good fairy came along and steered the husband toward the garbage (which was disgusting) but he could sense something so he puts his hand in (because he loves his wife) and he finds the ring, and they’re OK.

It isn’t that you couldn’t work like this and “engineer” a story, and that it might be a publishable story, but it will be COLD and deliberate (and probably have many stock elements) and the chances of a real surprise, of a deep, wild connection, of something new, vivid, exciting, surprising are virtually zero.

Let me digress a moment to talk about what I have always called left and right-brained thinking. The argument goes that in our brains we have a safe, solid, conscious, deliberate, logical, considering side (the left) and a wild, loopy, artistic, laissez-faire side (the right). Right Side invents amazing idea, Left Side considers them for validity, maybe tests them. We need both types of thinking to survive.

If I give you some story-ingredients and ask you to come up with the synopsis of a story, chances are you are highly conscious, very aware, seriously left-brained, and sure, you can come up with an idea, but it will be the same as everyone else, or will be the obvious “base idea” to which you have added a (you think unique) twist. Unfortunately for you even the twist is predictable.

Here is an exercise I often give writers at writing schools.

I say, OK, here’s the thing. There’s a man, a woman, two kids, a car, a horrible stormy night, a hitch-hiker and a message on the radio saying a dangerous lunatic has escaped from a nearby asylum. Write the story.

STOP READING!

Spoiler time. Please do NOT read ahead after the ====== which will be the width of the page.

So either write a short-short or just write it in outline.

When you have finished, go have a tea/coffee break and come back to your writing desk and, without looking at your first story try to think up (using the same ingredients) an altogether different story. In both cases, almost certainly you were very “aware”, conscious and deliberate. 

If you have a cocky personality (i.e. you show off) you will have thought about “What everyone else will write” and tried (again consciously) “to be different”. You like to stand out.

DO THE WORK NOW. DO NOT READ ON.

=========================================================

OK

The most typical story written goes as follows

Story 1. A man and his wife are in the car with their two kids, going to X, weather awful. They see a hitch-hiker, pick him up, drive. The rain lashes down. They listen to the radio. Announcement, Dangerous Lunatic Escaped, don’t pick up hitch-hikers!

About 95% of delegates get this far, writing the same scenario. The complete stories are so similar I have names for them. The first is “Big Fight”

The above, then they stop the car, there’s a fight, usually the husband v the deranged hiker. Sometimes the husband wins, sometimes the H-Hiker wins, but WHO CARES?

As a slight twist, sometimes the husband is fighting but the wife (or one of the kids kills or disables the H-Hiker. It’s the same story, more or less.

Story 2 I call OOPS!

All the above and the hitch-hiker is dead but then, on the radio the family hears the announcement that the escaped lunatic is in custody. 

Wife looks at husband looks at wife. OOPS!

Story 3 is called PHEW!

Here they give the man a lift, take him where he wants to go, drop him off, say goodbye (shake hands, whatever) drive away. NOW they hear the announcement and think OMG, OMG! Wife looks at husband looks at wife. and they go PHEW!

There are a couple of atypical stories (say written 5% of the time) which I can’t be bothered to re-enact right now. Once in a blue moon, someone appears to have a new take, but usually it boils down to a “standard” story.

Now here is the thing. Here is the start-point again.

There’s a man, a woman, two kids, a car, a horrible stormy night, a hitch-hiker and a message on the radio saying a dangerous lunatic has escaped from a nearby asylum.

Why does everybody presume this means the man and wife are connected, are a family and the kids are their’s? Where did I say that OR infer it? I didn’t. I said man-woman-kids and YOU PRESUMED. You used your left-brain and used “logic” and thought the same as 99% of other left-brained writers.

Nor did I say you must use every ingredient. If we used them all, we might have a man in one car, a woman in a second car, two kids in a crashed car (or waiting at home). The woman might be the deranged killer, or the man is  (and the hitch-hiker is unlucky) or one or both kids are mad.

I could get a lot wilder and whackier, but to be original 

YOU HAVE TO LET GO

and the best way to let go is to UN-think and NOT-think, to feel, to be, to get inside the head of one or more characters, to use your own experiences, the bowels of the soul, get down and dirty and accept everything. Don’t conform, be an individual.

Conform and you will write the obvious, the stock, the stereotype, the cliché, the me-too story, the big yawn.

the prompt was: 4506 Found in some  garbage somewhere and my point is do NOT even consider using it consciously. You have to take off your shoes and socks and let one or more prompts bite your leg. You have to sing the prompts, read them top to bottom, read bottom up to top, change the order (alphabetical is good), combine, ring-out, sing, hear the sounds be part of the process inside it not outside pushing string.

Now the next bit here will be me pretending to be right brained thinking. Clearly I cannot do this. As soon as I become aware of being unaware I’ve lost the plot. But I am going to pretend, sort of after the fact, to “play” with this list and see what I can ‘accidentally” find.  Here are them all

Found in some garbage somewhere

When she opens her compact she sees another face

None of them will die well

An old cowboy with not too many teeth

Not as old as a hill-fort but pretty damn old

We follow the rope, unable to see

I knocked it off quite quickly

A sandal, a button, a finger

There are gross errors throughout, and no punctuation

Eating Grandma

My turn in charge of darkness

Bingo on the Pier, Hall of Mirrors, Tunnel of Love

I imagine many things in your history

The Detective always falls for some broad

Gatwick at 3 AM

She was the tallest and the blondest

Bucket, Spade, Sandwiches, Sand

Thin walls, loud lovers

For a murderess I would say she is quite restrained

I am the noise you hear creeping

Would you like to see my cellar?

I have had a bad case of the flu

Fuck this poem. Fuck that poem

Poor acting, poor directing, shit script. But apart from that...

It is one of my peculiarities, for which I apologise

Try having sex with these lines, have an orgy, wallow naked in corn oil on a rubber mat with them. PLAY, feel, emote, slap around a bit, be silly, be stupid, day-dream. Don’t grab, play with each bit and combinations until you HEAR a line or a couplet and you know it’s your opening, has the correct voice and feel, goes where you thought you might want to go.

PS I’m posting the list below with a hint where the prompt came from

Found in some garbage somewhere (Dobyns)

When she opens her compact she sees another face (Keegan)

None of them will die well (Dobyns)

An old cowboy with not too many teeth (Dobyns)

Not as old as a hill-fort but pretty damn old (Keegan)

We follow the rope, unable to see (Dobyns)

I knocked it off quite quickly (Chandler)

A sandal, a button, a finger (Keegan)

There are gross errors throughout, and no punctuation (Chandler)

Eating Grandma (Keegan)

My turn in charge of darkness (Keegan)

Bingo on the Pier, Hall of Mirrors, Tunnel of Love (Keegan)

I imagine many things in your history (Keegan)

The Detective always falls for some broad (Chandler)

Gatwick at 3 AM (Keegan) (Real-Life)

She was the tallest and the blondest (Chandler)

Bucket, Spade, Sandwiches, Sand (Keegan)

Thin walls, loud lovers (Keegan)

For a murderess I would say she is quite restrained (Keegan)

I am the noise you hear creeping (Keegan)

Would you like to see my cellar? (Keegan)

I have had a bad case of the flu (Chandler)

Fuck this poem. Fuck that poem (Keegan)

Poor acting, poor directing, shit script. But apart from that… (Chandler)

It is one of my peculiarities, for which I apologise (Chandler)

Now consider how these three writers are born in different times and different places, went to different schools, had different birth-religions, different career-paths, read different books. By using them (the authors and their sayings) we are accessing the past filtered through their lives. that’s incredible and we are only just beginning to appreciate a small part of the come-together power of this thing. Incidentally, none of the lines are exact copies from books.

Do PLAY with these (and remember you don’t have to use the exact prompt, or in fact any prompt at all) but the trick is (in my opinion) always to find-the-voice which usually means finding the opening, but occasionally it might be the end (with its sound, music, point) or one pivotal paragraph in the middle.

The crunch is finding the voice, the sound, the timbre of the story. In an article elsewhere I wrote about an opening creating a “mode of acceptance”. That is the opening has to shape the reader and swing him/her into a way of reading. Are you wanting the whole to be dark, flat, matter of fact, or tongue-in-cheek? You must SET THAT UP at the start. That’s why Gabriel Marquez said he took 50% of his time (novel or short-story) finding the opening’s correct voice and feel. But note this opening has to be HEARD and FELT in the heart, the soul.

You need to understand that the superficial meaning of lines is NOT the point.

If Fuck this poem. Fuck that poem grabs you, not only can we guess this will be “about writing” but we hear a TONE and sense an attitude.

If you use It is one of my peculiarities, for which I apologise or There are gross errors throughout, and no punctuation you are “choosing” an academic, critical voice. If you combine them you might get something else.

Dear Martha, I have the manuscript. Here are my initial thoughts,

1. There are gross errors throughout, and the punctuation is very poor. I am sorry to be so harsh but I am unable to “pull my punches”. That is one of my peculiarities, for which I apologise.

Ah-ha, I feel something. Now what if, off the cuff, I add something.

There are gross grammar and syntax errors throughout, and the punctuation is very poor. I am sorry to be so harsh but even though we are soon to be married, I am unable to “pull my punches”. That is one of my peculiarities, for which I apologise.

There was NOTHING planned about this. I just ‘find” a couple of lines that appeal to me, combine them, have an on the fly thought and when all these things are combined I cam imagine an excellent story where the academic can’t shut the hell up and kills his marriage prospects.

It would be really quite easy to continue this story to a conclusion because I have a clear voice and a clear situation right at the start.

What if you started with Thin walls, loud lovers? That would make a great title and you just KNOW the hotel would be seedy etc.

or you might used the IDEA. 

The walls are so thin and sometimes they move. The couple next door make love violently and do not seem to understand the concept “quiet”.

Can you see how much of the story you already have? Can you not hear it and feel it?

Perhaps you’d start with the cowboy

There’s an old cowboy in the corner with not too many teeth and a sad hat.

You like the scene (and the tone/mood) and you add his age…

There’s an old cowboy in the corner with not too many teeth and a sad hat. He is not as old as a British hill-fort but he is pretty damn old.

I can see the whole of this story “feel-wise”. Maybe now I’d add.

There’s an old cowboy in the corner with not too many teeth and a sad hat. He is not as old as a British hill-fort but he is pretty damn old.

The woman sitting at his table remembers Boadicea, the bitch, and when she opens her compact to put another layer on her pink, cow-patted face, she does not see wrinkles, she sees Jenny of Troy, Helen’s better-looking sister.

I would  now have the whole story. I just need to find out why these people are here.

There’s an old cowboy in the corner with not too many teeth and a sad hat. He is not as old as a British hill-fort but he is pretty damn old.

The woman sitting at his table remembers Boadicea, the bitch, and when she opens her compact to put another layer on her pink, cow-patted face, she does not see wrinkles, she sees, Jenny of Troy, Helen’s better-looking sister.

I am here again. In three minutes the old cowboy will say, Of all the gin-joints in all the world, she walks into mine. and I know it is happening again.

What I need you to see (and hear and feel) here is not merely the facts (old cowboy, face-plastered woman, resigned narrator) but the TONE, the mood, the likely “type” of story to come. It is vital that we find a way to feel ourselves into a story not drive in brandishing a hammer.

The title of this article was 

Walking on the Common, Prompts, the Unconscious, Our Past Lives

We have played a little with prompts — (a great exercise is to try and find 5-10-15 openings from one set of prompts, but remember do not impose yourself on the story, let the story — the prompts — seduce you.)

So what about the unconscious, and walking on the common?

This morning I took the boys (my two labradors) for a very muddy walk on the common. Now it’s possible to précis that idea and write it off as that, forget it, but what if you asked me about everything that this walk meant?

The man had inherited the two dogs from his ex-partner. He’s not a dog-lover but needs must etc. Maybe his ex-wife pays him to mind the dogs and he needs the money. The dogs are brothers but incredibly different. The smaller one is bright, the heavy one is unremittingly thick.

What about these dogs, the broken marriage, the memory of old “married” walks versus new walks when the ex visits, the awkwardnesses of these.

What about the dominance and submission of the two dogs when the man throws a ball? Does the clogging mud remind him of WWI? How does he feel when the dogs are happy and it reminds him of the marriage he didn’t want to end? What about when he was angry, back in the day and took his anger out on the dogs?

This is Greenham Common. Oliver Cromwell’s army marched across here after surviving The Battle of Newbury. The Royalist-helping Dutch Prince Rupert led a raid that chased after the retreating army and blew up their ammunition train at Aldermaston (but they made it to Parliamentary Reading.)

For hundreds of years Greenham Common was common-land. Think about all those ancient farmers and peasants, their animals grazing. In the English Civil War Parliamentary troops camped here. In the 19th century it was used for troop movements, in 1942 it became an RAF base, in 1943 it was turned over to the US Air Force.

The leaders of Operation Torch (the invasion of North Africa) stopped in a house on the edge of this common. Wing Headquarters was Bowdon House. 

After your divorce you almost rented the top floor of the house and the owners told you that The Norwegian Royal Family stopped there when they escaped from the Germans. During the Berlin Airlift, GC was used by the USAF. Later they demolished the old airfield and built a huge new one with a 10,000 metre runway. During the Cold War huge B52 Strato-fortresses regularly flew from here. Much later Cruise Missiles were based here in massive concrete silos. The women’s peace camp was here, no men allowed, and eventually the missiles left, the second airfield was dug up.

Top Gear has been filmed here. 

Part of the latest Star Wars film was shot here.

Every day, various dog-walkers are here. There is a kind of protocol with social meetings “over the dogs’ heads”. You wonder if ever a romance has blossomed while the Dachshund said hello to the border collie.

My point is, if you let it the world is full of possibility and places reek with history, love, pain, conflict. I could probably write for a year only using the common and its history.

The Unconscious.

What I see and discover (about Greenham Common and in a list of prompts) is partly driven by my needs, by my history, by the stuff inside that I feel and the stuff inside I don’t know is inside. We need to access this hidden stuff, the connections, the secrets, the repressed, but without looking directly at it because if we look to closely at the soul it will morph into something else, and puke out an easy, superficial answer. 

There’s a reason the suppressed is suppressed.

Back to Prompts.

If you act in a clinical, articulating, “conscious” way when responding to a list of prompts, all the connections to the dark parts of the soul will be shut down, but if you just play, look sideways, sing, combine, recombine, don’t impose, then certain prompts will call YOU, certain prompts will want to be seen and will float up as “yours”.

This is why you must learn to be soft-handed and gently “be available” to prompts, never attacking them.

I promise you, that if you “accidentally” end up with a prompt-driven opening to your story it will be at least twice the quality of a “pushed” opening.