by Sarah Tun
Writing stream-of-consciousness is a kind of brainstorming without a central theme, point or purpose.
Have you ever written without objective or purpose? It’s like painting a picture of what’s before your eyes, without knowing what the boundaries are, or the medium, or even whether or not you’ll include all of what you see.
Writing without knowing where you’re going or the point you want to make, is like taking a stroll without a destination. Or like playing an instrument without any music in front of you, nor any notion of what notes you’re going to play, or for how long. It is improvisation with words.
The pen in stream-of-consciousness writing plays the role of a little brook of water that flows endlessly, meandering through a deep forest, not to be seen or heard by anyone and yet, flowing continually to nourish the flora, fauna and life.
Writing stream-of-consciousness unleashes your mind and frees you from every rule to allow you to expose what’s on the inside without having to make any sense of it at all.
It may feel like the act of reciting a poem whose words are those of a foreign language, or no language at all. It may seem like dancing without a tune to follow, or beating a drum without any particular rhythmic pattern.
It may seem pointless in the beginning, but the point is perfect, endless and fulfilling.
Stream-of-consciousness releases creative juices which can get you out of writer’s block, a block which has hitherto entrapped you in that perfectionist mindset, which has so far managed to hold you back. The Stream frees you to produce something wonderful. It helps you to dig deep into your vocabulary, to find just the right thought that explains your emotions and just the right phrase to liberate your soul.
Beyond all else, writing Stream allows you to find that connection between your heart and hand, and when you do, the results will surprise you.
When I was a child I kept a journal; I keep one still. There has rarely been a year go past that I do not keep something of a personal journal. And I’ve saved every one of them.
My journal is a written account of me, at any key stage, in the raw. It isn’t for any eyes but mine, though often I’ve invited as my audience God Himself, and so I suppose sometimes I’ve written for the two of us.
If you haven’t written in Stream for a while, or perhaps never, I recommend you tackle it. It probably won’t earn you a dime – not directly that is, but it will make you a better writer… you’ll improve. Don’t all things improve with practice? Excellence is born of effort and repetition and this no-holds-barred approach will give you the uncensored opportunity to write for your audience of one.
And who knows? It may unleash some deep subconscious idea you didn’t know you had, which could be the soil for a new story line, character or message you must share!
The philosophy is simple: keep writing no-matter-what and see what you unearth.
Next time I’d like to share about the benefits of reading your work aloud.
(c) Sarah Tun, December 2017