Logic, Feelings, you need both
I call it the logic illness, though not in the sense of that particular fiction franchise that I’m hesitant to mention due to copyright concerns. In that fictional work, it’s a disease created by a superorganism that infects artificial intelligence. However, the affliction I’m referring to is different, Timmy – it’s one that affects us humans.
Another illness, you ask? Well, Timmy, there’s always room for more, especially when we cause these issues ourselves. Yes, because this is something self-inflicted; we’ve become so reliant on either extreme that it has made us sick. I know I have been.
You see, Timmy, we humans have a penchant for extremes. Corners provide us with a sense of security, so by going all-in on either side, we seek a form of safety. Ironically, this is counterproductive because it leaves us with little room for maneuvering.
What? Does this sound like the ramblings of a psychiatric patient off his meds? Well, maybe, but it’s also true. And how does this apply to writing? Well, Timmy, glad you asked.
For the same reason that you need flexibility in life, you need flexibility in writing. On the writing side of the net, I often find people relying solely on either extreme – too much feeling or too much thinking.
If you rely too much on feelings, you find yourself at the mercy of those irrational things we cannot really control. By exclusively depending on them, your story becomes erratic, unfocused, and unattractive. It’s an act of hubris to think that you can write relying solely on your feelings. Now, what about the pantser, you ask, Timmy? That is different. Pure pantsers have the structure and organization internally; they rely more on logic than it appears. The only difference is that they have the power to summon that logic when they sit down to work. To this, I would add the trickiness of your own personal feelings.
There’s no denying that writing serves as a form of catharsis for many, and most of what is written is never published. Many write solely for themselves, and that is fine. However, when you’re writing for an audience, you must be careful not to let your personal feelings and misgivings cloud your judgment. It’s a basic and easy mistake to make, Timmy, but one of the hardest to realize you’re making. Why? Because we are often blind to our own mental states and feelings. You need to look no further than your own life – how many times have you faced moments of realization where the penny made a very hollow and loud “thud” when it hit the bottom? Then you realize something that you should have noticed but were blind to? I thought so.
As it’s true in life, so it is in writing, because the purpose of writing is twofold. It involves the further exploration of the human experience by representing its aspects on one side, and on the other, the rule of cool. We are not touching the latter ye
The Pitfalls of Pure Logic: A Descent into Predictability
On the other extreme, you find those who exclusively rely on thinking, on logic, and reason. While the previous extreme leads to works that are, at least, filled with heart, passion, and a lot of craziness, this extreme leads to dry, predictable things. It might sound a bit unfair coming from me, someone who has spent a considerable amount of time delving into the tools and nuances of the craft. However, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that blindly applying tools and methods – while there are proven patterns that work – without aftermarket modification is foolish.
Sure, you can certainly create a stock story of a knight saving a princess and gaining his kingdom… blah, blah, blah. We’ve seen that story a million times over. There are individuals who escape from the world by playing that type of scenario inside their heads all the time. I know because I used to be one of them. That’s also corporate speak, Timmy. Corporations, run by suits that know more about meetings than actual creativity, are driven by a desire for money. They want a return on their investment, so they avoid experimenting and use things as they come out of the box, turning a creative endeavor into a gray mash with no taste. I should feel angry with them, but I can’t. It’s in their nature, and they do not understand. They think they do, but they don’t.
Harmony of Extremes: Crafting a Complete Narrative
But let’s get back on topic; back to writing. To write, you need both extremes to aid you — feelings to give your work life and logic to give it shape. Much of what we do is irrational, and as it is for us, so it is for characters. Many of their wants and needs are built on irrational foundations that make sense only coming from a perspective of what they have lived through or what other characters make them out to be, a mother shaping the path of her child to very driven and specific for example.
A cookie-cutter story straight out of the box of clichés, tropes, and archetypes is functional but little else. Also, there is the “you factor” — you won’t be able to keep a bit of yourself out of the story, out of the characters. It’s inevitable, and it will do wonders for you if you recognize that fact as early as possible and work the “you” factor into your story in a non-disruptive way. While most of that factor you won’t be able to control, the more you write, the more it will happen organically. There are things at the surface level that you can be aware of, like not making a character a self-insert as part of the main cast.
While cold logic alone is not alive, it is functional and doesn’t go much beyond that. It should be no mystery that many stories where characters are bound to be emotionless revolve around breaking out of those chains. You can’t logic your way through life, and you can’t logic your way through writing a book.
I hope that is clear enough. You need both extremes in your toolkit to be a complete author, no matter the genre or the story you tell — whether it’s a gigantic drama-filled thriller spanning several continents over a long period of time or a small romance affair in a peasant village by the coast of some nondescript country. You need both.
I hope that was clear, Timmy.
Until next time.
