Immaterial – A Path to Creative Writing

Let’s be materialistic for one moment and get out of the way the fact that we live in an overly-materialistic world. People are stricken blind by science and technology so much that there is little room for faith for the sake of faith anymore. Now that’s not to say that there isn’t good in the sciences and that much of what it offers us isn’t fact (apparently), but I mean to point out that most people out there are too dictated by truths than they are by their dreams.

On earth we have north, east, south and west; up, down, left and right; yes, no, maybe so; life, death, and somewhere in between. But I can honestly say that the endless space that surrounds us could care less when someone says something like “Superman is impossible.” – Improbable - maybe, but never impossible. In my opinion, to be successful in creative writing is to disregard the norm and put faith into what can and might be (or perhaps already is).

A recent example of a material-driven opinion is a friend of mine commenting on The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, remarking that Radagast the Brown’s giant rabbits (ala Santa’s reindeer) were out of place in the context of the movie. I suppose he’s right. Dragons, dwarves, goblins, wizards and hobbits make enough sense, but God forbid if there’s such a thing as giant rabbits in a fantasy world. It’s this sort of attitude that threatens the creative mind. If we can allow ourselves to be immersed into characters of fantastical origin, there’s no reason we should question anything that follows.

Why should we be leashed by such statements as “man can’t fly?” For one thing, we can (albeit by means of machine), but going back to the idea of Superman, why can’t such a thing be plausible? There might be no means on earth where we can actually levitate ourselves by flexing a muscle per se, but what’s to say we can’t be like Superman, land on an alien planet, and be physically advantaged?

Writers might feel lack of faith in themselves just because there’s no reason behind the nonsensical nature of our dreams, but why should there be? When in dreams we’re able to do things out of the ordinary to our everyday lives, and rarely do any of us question it when in the process of dreaming. If you maintain this mentality in writing, you’ll find yourself producing the most imaginative and inspired work you can. Granted, there’s a time and place for proper polishing and structure, but to make a fantasy (or any sort of fiction) doesn’t require background and history.

Look at Louis Carrol’s Alice books. We don’t know the origins of the white rabbit, or Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee, yet we don’t question it whatsoever on account of our immersion with the fantasy. You’re more than free to be as detailed as Tolkien, but there is never any harm in just free-writing and going without a plan of attack. To be most creative is to be immaterial, and to be immaterial is to act without rule. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from fiction and fantasy, it’s that there are no rules.

A line worth mentioning that plays into what I’m trying to convey can be found in the film Wanted in context with ‘curving a bullet’ around an object:

“It’s not a question of how. It’s a question of what. If no one told you that bullets flew straight, and I gave you a gun and told you to hit the target, what would you do? Let your instincts guide you.”

In short, if you want to fire up your creative engines and unleash your full capacity on the blank page, you first have to train yourself to think outside the box, quite literally, and make everything your own. If materialistic ideals stand in the way of your target, curve the bullet.

-Tori Domay

As a little extra support for these notions, here is a video that I watch on occassion to keep my imagination in check: