I was saying something about a decision tree.
This is pretty much how I think on everything, with every way planned out as far as willingly possible. Sometimes if I’m really gripped by something, that tree can turn into 400 or 500 (I’m not being exact) different outcomes and events, and it gets absolutely insane. Apply this to the routine and often depressingly human condition of pattern spotting (fashion choices, speech patterns and accents, and other tiny, insignificant linguistical details), and I can single-handedly drive myself crazy without even trying. But it’s fine.
Anyway, I sort of use an intuitive thing like this when I’m writing. It’s not something I’m always fully conscious of, and a lot of the time my brain just seems to ‘know’ where to go. So what do you even call that?
That’s not a process.
Cambridge Dictionary says this:
“1. a series of actions that you take in order to achieve a result.
2. a series of changes that happen naturally.
3. a method of producing goods in a factory by treating natural substances.“
But there’s this as well (for the ‘writing’ half of our phrase):
“1. a person’s style of writing with a pen on paper that can be recognised as their own.
2. something that has been written or printed.
3. the written work, such as stories or poems, of one person or a group of people.
4. the activity of creating pieces of written work, such as stories, poems, or articles.
5. the skill or activity of producing words on a surface.“
I don’t know about you, but suddenly, that creates a much wider definition of the idea of a ‘writing process’ compared to the one we all know and love (i.e. get butt on seat and type, little monkey, type!).
We’ll continue this tomorrow whenever I’m not exhausted.