CREATIVE DRIVE

The newsletter that's meant to blow your mind

NUMBER 60

The answer to a big question is just another question.

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Everything has a source. Every event or occurrence, however minute or happenstance it is, will stem from a cause. All the steps you take are part of a progression. They're part of a process that is subtle but constant. It runs through the center of your being and outward, affecting all that you touch.

So, we have a question. Just as the previous issue of Creative Drive dealt with the question of "when," we're again compelled to face what we don't know or seldom acknowledge.

A brother of mine once said of his little boy, "He's fine with the idea of Santa Claus, but he simply wants to know why."

What!? You mean to say that instead of constantly asking, "Daddy, when is Santa coming?" your little boy asks, "Why is Santa coming?" That's incredible. It's also completely natural. Children ask questions about everything.

We, as adults, tend to think we've outgrown questions. Do you remember the episode of "The Office"–the U.S. version–when the ever-affable Jim is asked for a "rundown" of the team's sales performance and contacts with prospective clients? "Right," he says, but he doesn't really know what a rundown is. He hopes to figure it out by gleaning things from whatever conversations he has during the course of the day. No one mentions a rundown, though. It's a tight spot for Jim.

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Not "That" Question, "This" Question

Initially I thought the matter of what one does could be probative. "What will I write today? What will I compose next? What type of voiceover script will I attempt?" It was too easy. The answer to any such question is, "Anything." After all, everything starts somewhere. Nothing has an ending unless there's a beginning first.

Imagine what would happen if you were to tell a trusted friend, "I'm thinking I might write a novel about a poor, downtrodden man." Your friend might politely say, "Oh, that sounds good." The unspoken response, however, would be different. In my family, the response would be outright. They're the best people in the world, but an eight-step pecking order has oddly bestowed them with an outsized sense of authority. In my late twenties I happily told an older sister that I planned to buy a new car. "You can't afford a new car!" she gasped. Well, I could and I did. Then my wife and I bought a house. Everything was fine.

Your friend, who's probably the caring sort, will want to know more about your idea but will of course have a question: "Why?" It wouldn't be in order to stop you but instead to know one of two things:

- Why do you want to write a novel?

- Why do you want to write about a downtrodden man?

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Nothing Will Wait for You

A question wants an answer, but it doesn't always demand one. Some questions can't be answered at a level of simplicity that would accommodate the one who wants to know. For example, I recently wrote a script that contains this brief exchange:

"Is it true . . . where they say we're headed?"

"That isn't for me to say. Only you can decide."

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A lawyer would give an answer like that. My wife often says, "You should've been a lawyer, Larry. You always answer a question with a question."

"That's right," I think. A friend of mine recently posted the question, "Why do you write and record songs?" He suggested a variety of reasons, including the present but nonessential desire for fame and success. None of those reasons answered it for me, though. The process I use, and to which I'm answerable, is one of questioning.

a) I'll have an idea for a musical theme. Which aspect brings the theme to mind repeatedly?

b) I'll implement the theme. How should it develop?

c) I'll develop the theme into a piece, moving from start to finish. What are the best choices in terms of key, modulation, instrumentation and dynamics?

d) I'll make a visual montage to complement the piece. How can I use images to illustrate such a nebulous musical idea?

e) I'll write a bit of dialogue on the basis of the musical piece. What will the tone of voice be?

f) I'll elaborate upon the dialogue and write a scene. When does the scene take place?

g) I'll write a prologue for the scene. Who are the characters, and what are their circumstances?

h) I'll move backward and forward through time or history: Where does the story take place?

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The Reason It Matters

Ah, you've noticed something. A certain word was omitted, but that was intentional. What is the word you want? Go ahead, think about it. I'll wait.

[PLEASANT, COMMERCIAL-FREE HOLD MUSIC]

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Are you ready with the answer? Okay, okay. I'll give it to you. Get ready for this:

The question is, "Why?"

Each step in my process has me shouldering the weight of the question of "why."

a) WHY would I suddenly have an idea for a theme?

b) WHY would I attempt to develop the idea into a workable theme, and which of myriad directions would I choose?

c) WHY would I devote so much energy to the work of constructing a musical piece out of a simple theme?

d) WHY would I start searching through libraries of images while knowing that, essentially, none of them will do or say just what I'd want?

e) WHY would I then write dialogue to match the music? Isn't the music enough?

f) WHY would I increase the burden with a scene? The story might never end, and I'd be chained to it!

g) WHY would I skip lunch!?

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I believe there's an answer to questions like those; a single answer that will satisfy them now and for posterity. It's "because."

It's because we're human and perfectly imperfect that we pursue ourselves over the rambling course of life. It's because we're gifted with more potential than we realize or can achieve that we strike forth into areas that pique our curiosity and even frighten us. It's because our minds are so crammed full of extraneous thought that we feel compelled to try everything but finish very little of it. It's because we love and embrace the struggle of living. It's because we feel so infinitesimally small beneath the Creator's lens that absolutely any achievement would make us feel just a bit more worthy.

Go ahead, answer the question again. It will be the same as before unless you forget the question and simply create.

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THANK YOU for reading this issue of Creative Drive. If you want this level of writing for your project or campaign, get in touch.

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Copyright ?2024 by Lawrence Payne. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, machine-learned or distributed without permission from the author.