Fleshing out Ideas: The Orange Exercise |
A
couple of years ago, when my son was at university, he was coming home upset
when he got his assessments back either with a fail or barely scraping in a
pass. He complained that he was giving
it his best, and that he just mustn’t be good enough. He didn’t want to drop out,
but he wasn’t sure how much more humiliation he could take, constantly facing
being a failure.
My
son is never a failure, even if he fails in some of his efforts. He always
received top marks for all the practicals required of him and was able to
answer the lecturer’s questions even when no one else attending the lecture
could, but according to him and some of his lecturer’s they just had no idea
why he couldn’t transfer his competence when it came to getting things on paper.
Being
an actively involved mum and worrying about him not achieving his dreams, I
asked if I could assist in any way. And, because I have been working on
improving my writing skills over the last ten years, even though I was applying
them within my novel writing, he asked if I wouldn’t mind having a read of his
failed assessment to see if I could detect where he was going wrong. We both
knew that if I had completed the same assessment, I probably would have got
higher marks, so we just needed to know what I would have done to work out what
he was missing out on doing.
First
up, my son was in deep trouble with
putting words down on paper. What he
could rattle off to me with ease verbally became a tangled web of confusion
when he attempted to say what he meant on paper. All those years in primary and
high school, and he had never been shown how to get his words down right, never
shown how to improve, only assessed and graded at a lesser level than others. So my first piece of advice to him was to
write it like he says it; to actually answer the question by speaking it aloud
first, then having heard his answer and how smooth it had come out, to then try
to write exactly what he had just said, verbatim. This took him quite a bit of practice, but he
started improving his written words immediately, until this was no longer a
problem and he no longer had to answer the question aloud first.
The
next thing I noticed within his answering was that he was limited in his
ideas. Whenever there was a ‘give an
example’ type question, my son was unable to come at that one thing from a
number of different angles.
I
used to be the same back when I used to go to school, but I must have changed
over time while learning to write novels. Quite exacerbated with him one
afternoon when I could see three or four different points that he couldn’t
think of on the topic he was trying to answer staring at him in his text book,
I worked out that he was suffering from ‘limited thinking’ and was just not
allowing himself the time to come up with ‘more’ ideas with which to include as
part of his answer, not allowing himself to explore other options.
To
try to help him along, I spontaneously asked him to think of the word ‘Orange’
and write down everything he could think of in relation to the word ‘orange’
over the next hour no matter how loose the association for him, and whether or
not that association is ‘correct’ or not; and advised him that I would leave
the room and sit down somewhere and do the exact same activity so we could
compare results.
I
left him sitting at his youngest sister’s writing desk and I went to my
study. I grabbed a piece of paper, and I
listed all the things that were shouting for me to write down on the A4 notepad
from the moment I wrote ‘Orange’ in the centre of the top line.
In
the first five minutes I listed one item after another until I had about
fifteen items listed. Then, my well of
ideas dried up, and I looked over my list feeling quite satisfied by my efforts.
Then, having given my mind a few minutes of rest, a second wave of associations
to the word ‘orange’ started coming to me, and I slowly added another couple of
items to my list, feeling rather proud of myself. As I reread the list, just to make sure I had
listed everything I could think of (not believing I could come up with any more
ideas), yet another wave of ideas hit me. By this time, I had cottoned on that
I needed to give myself breaks in between listing things, to allow some of the
previous words listed in front of me to trigger new lines of thinking, sparking
even more ideas.
Some
of these new ideas weren’t directly associated with ‘orange’ only the
association listed, and some ideas repeated themselves. But I kept adding more
things that I associated with the word ‘orange’. When the hour was up, I returned to my
daughter’s room where my son was sitting down looking bored and frustrated even
though he was straining to get a few more ideas on paper so that I wouldn’t be
disappointed or something because he could hear me coming. I was surprised (and
slightly disappointed – but not in him) when I found he had only five things
listed on his sheet of paper.
When
I told him how many items I was able to add to my list, he cried with
frustration and amazement that I had reached thirty two things.
Now
I wasn’t trying to make him feel bad
for not having achieved the same; but I was able to point out that there were
more possibilities than he wasn’t allowing to flow through him. I suggested that he cease trying to force the
ideas to come to him, and do little things to help him become stronger at
generating more ideas than just the initial ones. So, I didn’t show him my
list.
Instead,
I left him alone again with the advice, ‘now that you know that there are at
least thirty two possible associations that I have come up with, why don’t you
try again. It doesn’t matter if you don’t get a high number like I did, just
that you find a couple more ideas than what you have.’
This
cheered him up a bit; it wasn’t a competition for which he was losing. He was
free to only have to churn the cogs in his brain enough to come up one or two more than what he currently had. The pressure came off. I stayed outside the
room he was in for a few minutes listening.
At
first, he wasn’t writing anything on the paper, because I couldn’t hear the pen
scratching. But, after a while, I heard
sudden movement followed by the pen on paper, and I could tell even without
seeing him that he had just hit on his second wave of brilliant ideas; and I
smiled. I knew my son had it in
him. I knew he is smart and just needed
to stop limiting himself to what immediately comes to mind, to give himself
time to let those ideas come to him.
Maybe,
me being twenty three years older than him gave me more life experiences, more
associations to the word ‘orange’ than him, but I didn’t think so. He lived in the same house, the same suburb,
the same country. Therefore, he saw much the same things as me. This was not about how intelligent or smart
either of us might or might not be. This
was about letting go of control and trusting your own self to deliver what is already
within you.
When
I returned to the room, my son did something that I do often but he had never
done before: he lifted a hand into the ‘stop’ gesture, signalling for me to not
start talking else I would ruin his concentration, ruin his line of thinking,
would cause him to lose the flow of ideas now coming to him.
Did
you get that? Line of thinking.
Lines of Thinking |
When
my son first sat down to complete the ‘list anything and everything you can
think of associated (no matter how loosely) to the word ‘orange’’, he only
allowed himself to listen to the first line of his thinking; the one with the immediate responses. But he had other lines, buried deeper, just
waiting for a neural pathway to connect the lines and bring the idea forth into his consciousness.
I
immediately retreated from the room. And
waited until he was ready to come and get me.
Then
we compared lists.
Our
first three things listed were exactly
the same. These were the immediate,
easy, obvious associations we both made: it’s a colour; it’s a fruit; it’s the
middle colour in traffic lights.
My
son had built his list up and now had seventeen things on his list’ a huge
improvement from where he had first believed possible. And, when we compared what we had both
recorded there were three or four items that were on his list but not mine, and
vice versa that when we both heard the other persons idea that we had missed out
on, had us both slapping our foreheads wondering ‘how did I miss that?’
My
son learned a very important lesson that day that he still applies to this day. For all future assessments, he no longer
stuck to just the first three things he thought of (though he made sure he
included these because he would have lost marks if he didn’t include these
obvious ideas), but he started providing more content and less waffle.
Everything his teachers and lecturer’s had been telling him all the way along,
only he had not understood how to provide more content so did what most people
do: fluffed his word count out with waffle. I’m really proud that I helped him
learn this; and I appreciated him taking me out for dinner as his way of saying
thanks.
And
because of this new understanding, his marks jumped from averaging in the 48 –
53% mark to now hovering consistently at the 70 – 75%: a comfortable pass rather
than a fail or just scraping in one. We
both don’t understand why he doesn’t get higher compared to other students, but
we took the marks happily because they fell into the ‘breezed it in’ pass
range.
This
expanding your thinking exercise is useful for writers, and jobseekers, not
just struggling university students.
As
a novelist, don’t limit yourself to just the first couple of story or scene ideas
that come to mind. Why not allow your
mind to give you its second, third, fourth, fifth or more lines of ideas as
well. You might later dismiss some of
those ideas, but at least you have more to choose from; at least you aren’t
playing it safe and going with what everyone else thinks of.
As
a jobseeker, don’t limit yourself to the same old boring method of submitting
cover letters. Use this technique to
assist you think about your skills, knowledge and experience, so you can
present the right information to potential employers. Every jobseeker tells employers ‘I’m reliable’
and ‘I can do this job’. Come up with
examples from your past and demonstrate your knowledge rather than claim it.
Yesterday,
I chanced upon a blog by a novel writer giving the exact same advice that I
gave my son four years previously. Under the context of novel writing, this
same blogger/writer was dispensing the same points I was trying to make with my
son that day. Unfortunately, I can’t
link to that post because I was working on my laptop under battery power, and
was unable to get mains powered in time, so lost the page I was at.
So,
if you are a school or university student, a writer of fiction or non-fiction,
or a jobseeker stuck for ‘fleshing out’ ideas, then I recommend you completing
a similar idea generating exercise to that of my ‘orange’ exercise. You never
know, you may just find that you too have more ideas than you thought you had.
No comments:
Post a Comment