In early April eleven of my local writer friends and I held a weekend writer’s retreat at a dome house in the Sierra Nevada foothills.

One of my goals for the retreat was to practice developing ideas into story ideas, and then into stories.  And I had a technique in mind that I wanted to practice: clustering.

I’d learned about clustering years ago from a writing teacher in New Hampshire, who had learned it from Gabriele Rico’s book Writing the Natural Way.  Dustin Wax describes the technique nicely on his blog, and you can see a Flash animation of clustering in action at the top of Rico’s web site.

I’d used clustering dozens of times for my non-fiction writing (and also for general problem-solving), so I knew it was a great technique for tapping the creative, associative workings of your mind.  But I hadn’t yet used clustering to develop story ideas for fiction, and this was a great opportunity.

So that’s how I would develop ideas into story ideas.  Where would I find the raw, undeveloped ideas to cluster about?  From my brand new copy of The Writer’s Book of Matches, a small book filled with hundreds of intriguing writing prompts.

So I had plan:

1. Pick a random prompt from The Writer’s Book of Matches.
2. Cluster around the core idea of the prompt until a story idea hit me.
3. Write down the story idea.
4. Write the story.

Then I went to work.

My first prompt was:

“He’s probably just as disappointed in me as I am in him.”

The core of this idea is mutual disappointment.  But who are the people involved, and what are they disappointed about?  This is a great job for clustering.  I grabbed my pen and an 8″x5″ index card and drew this cluster (rendered here using MindJet’s MindManager software):

Cluster for “Dinner at Gourlay’s” (click for full size)

As I dumped associations onto the card, I quickly found a story idea (in the branches I’ve bolded on the map):

A father has long expressed disappointment in his son’s sexual promiscuity.  Then the son catches the father having an affair.

This story idea had some real juice for me, especially if I wrote it from the son’s point of view.  I didn’t want to cluster any more, I wanted to write.  I dashed off a 1,000-word first draft of a story called “Dinner at Gourlay’s”.

The next prompt that I pulled out of The Writer’s Book of Matches was:

“It’s supposed to be a game, but he treats it like life and death.”

The key words seemed to be life, death, and game, so I put those words in the center of an index card and created this cluster:

Cluster for “Double or Nothing” (click for full size)

This time the story didn’t jump out at me instantly.  It took a whole five minutes to find an idea that interested me.  The “bet too much” bubble caught my attention because it connected game with death.  Digging yourself too deeply into debt with your bookie (so the stereotype goes) can put you at serious bodily risk.  So imagine a guy deeply in debt and being threatened by his bookie.  What might the guy do?  Maybe he’d kill the bookie, or try to.  Then I thought of a twist:  What if the guy bets a second bookie that he can kill the one to whom he’s in debt?  After a few more twists, I had enough of an idea to start writing:

Norm is deeply in debt to his bookie Paulo.  He tries to hire Emile, a competing bookie, to kill Paulo.  But Emile doesn’t like the idea.  Instead, he offers a deal:  If Norm can kill the Paulo in a week, Emile will pay off the debt.  If Norm can’t kill Paulo in a week, Emile will still pay off the debt, but then Norm will owe Emile twice the amount he owed Paulo.  Double or nothing.

That prompt led to this story idea?  Cool!

I wrote the first scene, which I quite like.  But at the moment I don’t know where the story goes next.  I like the idea that the Emile tips off Paulo that Norm is coming to kill him, but so far I can’t figure out Emile’s motivation to do that.  But it would be fun, so I’ll keep looking.

Time for more clustering.

Here’s a writing exercise I invented to help me jiggle my brain and find ideas for fiction.

1. Write down any character, location, object, situation, action, theme, or other story element.  It may be fascinating or mundane.  It may be one you’ve thought about and written about extensively, or one that just popped into your head.
2. Write down every variable you can think of for the story element.  By variable, I mean anything that you could vary.  Ask yourself:  What could I vary about this?  What else could I vary?  When you run out of ideas, ask yourself:  If I could think of one more thing, what would it be?
3. For each variable, write down every value you can think of.
4. Pick a few variables that seem interesting to you.  Try different combinations of values for those variables.  What story ideas does this give you?

Let’s try a mundane action:  Sharpening a pencil.

What could you vary about sharpening a pencil?  Here are some of the variables I can think of:

• The kind of sharpener.
• The sharpener’s condition, age, mechanical soundness, rustiness, sharpness, squeakiness, color, shape…
• The location of the sharpener.  It’s orientation.  The soundness of its mounting…
• The state of mind of the person sharpening it.
• The person’s dexterity, eyesight, hand strength, height, olfactory acuity…
• The pencil’s age, color, length, composition, dryness, wetness…
• The brand of pencil.
• The brand of sharpener.
• The person’s reason for sharpening it… intentions for the pencil…
• How easy it was to find the sharpener, or to travel to it.
• The climate, weather, temperature, humidity, noise level around the person and the sharpener.
• … and so on …

Now let’s pick a few variables and identify lots of values.

What kind of sharpener is it?

• Electric.
• Mechanical crank style.
• A small, plastic, hand-held one with an angled razor blade edge.
• A pocket knife.
• … What other kinds? …

What is the person’s reason for sharpening the pencil?

• To write something.  (To write what?  A novel?  A Dear John letter?  A contract?  A manifesto?  This gives a new variable to play with, which may lead to yet further variables.)
• To mark a board for cutting.  (To build what?)
• Well, duh!  Pencils are supposed to be sharp!  (Where did this rule come from?  What other, related rules might the person have?)
• To poke a hole in something (what?).
• To stab someone (who?) or something (what?).  (Why?)
• Because the aroma of freshly shaved wood and graphite reminds the person of a simpler time, when the world (and he) was more innocent.
• … What other reasons? …

What is the condition of the person sharpening the pencil?

• Too young to manipulate the pencil or the sharpener well.  Or too old.
• Shaky hands.  (Why?)
• Drunk.
• Angry (about what?).  Jealous (of whom?).
• Hemophiliac.
• Wearing gloves (what kind of gloves?).
• … What other possibilities? …

What combinations of values seem interesting?  Using the pencil as a weapon seems obvious, so I’ll try something else.

An elderly, arthritic man twists a yellow, Berol Ben Franklin No. 2 pencil in a small, forest green razor-type sharpener.  He doesn’t need the pencil to be sharp (he has nine sharp pencils in a Texaco cup on his roll-top writing desk).  And he can’t see well enough to write, anyway.  But the smell of the wood and paint and resin and graphite takes him back to his childhood, transports him away from the terrible reality of the deed he had done — not impulsively, not in haste, but after careful, prolonged consideration — just two hours earlier…

Your Turn.  Try the exercise yourself.  Let me know what happens.

If you want to see what my Spiral Method sessions look like, below is the raw, unedited zeroth draft for my article “Strategies for Stability.” The numbers match the answers to the corresponding questions (e.g. A1 is the answer to Q1). The starred items (*) are ideas that popped into my head, not directly related to any question.

Nugget: People change in order to remain the same. That is, we will change something less important in order to maintain something that is more important.

Q1. How does changing help stay the same?

Q2. Can you give a few examples?

Q3. How can I keep something stable?

Q4. Is this the only reason to change?

Q5. Is this the only way to stay the same?

A1. To keep something the same, we change less important things that either isolate the important thing from change or absorb the change.

A horse’s gait changes when the pressure on its bones reaches one third of the pressure it can handle. The gait change reduces the pressure.

Q6. What about as the horse slows down? Why change gait then?

Q7. Are isolating and absorbing the only reasons for change?

Q8. Are they the only strategies for stability?

* Stability is a problem only when some force acts to cause a change. We can maintain things indefinitely if no force is acting on them.

Q9. How can I use this principle to reduce resistance?

A2. Examples: Drop three low-priority projects in order to sustain progress on high-priority projects.

Rewrite software to take advantage of new technology in order to maintain responsiveness and growth.

Temporarily stop looking for a job, and instead upgrade skills, in order to maintain marketability.

Lower prices in order to maintain market share.

A8: Another way to maintain stability: Adapt to changes in the environment, so that the environment supports the new configuration — or at least doesn’t threaten it.

Three ways to keep something stable:

• Isolate
• Absorb
• Adapt

* Gain or maintain something we value even more.

A4. I believe that the only reason we change is to maintain something more important.

Q10. What about when I change jobs in order to get a raise? That isn’t about maintaining anything.

A5. The only way to maintain something in the face of a threatening force is to change something less important — something that will isolate the more important thing from teh change, absorb the force and dissipate it, or adapt to the change in the environment.

A8. As far as I can tell, these are the only three ways:

Absorb: Convert the force into less harmful forms or more useful forms.

Apply some energy to revert the environment. This takes energy that you could have used for something else. I see that as a form of adaptation.

Absorb (from the Shorter Oxford English Dictionary): Include or take (a thing) in so that it no longer has separate existence; incorporate. Gain energy from and reduce the intensity of.

Adapt (from SOED): Fit, adjust. Alter or modify to fit a new use, new conditions.

Isolate (from SOED): Place or set apart or alone; separate from or unconnected with other things.

I’ve written four articles using The Spiral Method, and I’ve been delightfully surprised every time.

I first used The Spiral Method in January, to write the zeroth draft that would become “Strategies for Stability.” I spiraled for a few minutes, and was amazed at quickly The Spiral Method helps me to move my ideas out of my head and onto paper. (Yes, I write my zeroth drafts on paper.) I was also surprised to learn how much material I have floating around in my head behind each of the nuggets I want to write about.

I spent several hours revising. When I was done, I got my next surprise: The nugget that I originally wanted to write about — “People change in order to remain the same.” — was nowhere to be found in the finished article. I’d had that thought in my nugget file for years. Yet while I was spiraling I stumbled onto a question that I wasn’t able to answer, and now I’m no longer sure I believe that initial claim. Somehow, in spiraling and revising, I took the article somewhere I hadn’t foreseen when I started. I was tickled by that.

I next used The Spiral Method for “Tests for Listening.” Before I sat down to write I knew the four “listening tests” that I wanted to write about. I guessed that I’d write about a hundred words about each, plus an introduction and conclusion — maybe 500 words for the whole article. I spiraled on each listening test, revised the zeroth draft into a publishable article, and — surprise! — 1000 words! Who knew I had that much to say? I checked it twice to make sure I hadn’t inserted lots of fluff. Nope.

I worried that 1000 words is a little long for a blog entry. But that’s what it came to, so that’s what I published. It wasn’t so long ago that I couldn’t imagine how to write a 1000 word article. Now I may have a hard time keeping my articles short! I guess that’s progress.

When I sat down last week for my third Spiral Writing session, I thought I knew what I wanted to write about: Needs are more important than wants. I’ve had that idea in my nugget file for years, and finally wanted to write about it. But what I wrote at the top of the page was, “Needs come from wants.” Similar, but not the same. This zeroth draft eventually led to “Testing Needs and Wants.” When the article was done, I noticed once again that not only was the original nugget missing, I was no longer sure I believed it. The Spiral Method, it seems, is a great way to destroy the ideas I’ve loved for years!

As I was revising “Testing Needs and Wants,” I noticed that the article included lots of background material about the structure of values. Too much. It distracted from the distinctions I really wanted to highlight between needs and wants. So I sliced the background stuff into an article on its own, “The Structure of Values.” What a lovely side-effect of writing the needs and wants article! I’d known for months that I would eventually write an article about the structure of values, and here it was.

So this one Spiral Method writing session led to two full articles, each bordering on “too long for blogland” — 2000 words in total. I’m a little nervous about spiraling again. I’m having visions of accidentally unleashing The Blog that Ate Manhattan. (But I’m safe here in Sacramento. I think.)

That’s what I’ve learned so far. The Spiral Method helps me to put my ideas onto paper more quickly and with greater ease than I thought possible. It encourages me to question my ideas and create new ones that I like even better. And it gives me confidence that I have plenty to say.

One night in late December, as I was falling asleep, I had a thought about how to flesh out ideas for articles. I sat up, grabbed a pen and an index card from the stack I keep next to the bed, and wrote:

1. Write the nugget.
2. Then write the implications of the nugget.
3. Then support the nugget.

I was excited about this idea, because though I am quite good at inventing nuggets — the central claims that make me want to write articles in the first place — I struggle with the rest of the writing process, the process of growing a nugget into an article worth writing. I keep forgetting the simple principles that every other author surely knows: Say why this claim is worth reading, and justify the claim. Writing those two simple principles gave me a way to remember, and a way to build articles from nuggets.

The next night, as I was falling asleep, I refined the previous night’s thought:

1. Write the nugget.
2. Write any questions I want to ask about what I have written so far.
3. Answer one question. Return to step 2.

This new version generalizes on the first. The earlier version says to ask and answer two questions: So what? and What makes you so sure? The new version extends that to any question, giving me even more ways to build the article. I liked this new version even better.

On the third night, as I was falling asleep, I refined again, resulting in a process that I call The Spiral Method for Writing Zeroth Drafts:

1. Write the nugget.
2. Write any questions I want to ask about what I have written so far.
3. Select the question that I have the most energy for answering, and answer it. Return to step 2.
4. Stop when I’ve answered all of the questions, or when I have little energy to answer any of the unanswered questions.

I liked this version better still, especially the focus on energy as the key criterion for what to write and when to stop. Focusing on energy ensures that each bit I write not only supports the central idea, but also adds some zing.

So far, I’ve used the Spiral Method three times. Each time, I created enough material for a full article (or two!) in about 30 minutes. Next came hours of editing to shape each zeroth draft into publishable form. The result: four articles and lots of surprises.

Several days after I created the Spiral Method I realized that I’d been inspired by Mark Forster’s process for growing an article, which I’d learned about through Keith Ray’s blog entry of November 30. To grow an article, Mark writes a single sentence, then revises it until the article is done.

As you can see, both Mark’s approach and mine start with a core idea and build outward. The Spiral Method has a little more structure than Marks approach, and I find that I need that additional bit of structure. Alternating between questions and answers, using my energy as a guide, keeps my ideas flowing, while providing lots of opportunity for discovery and surprise.

Though I developed the Spiral Method for myself, I’d be delighted to find that it works for you, too. I’d be even more delighted to learn how you’re using it.