Serendipity, Zeitgeist, and the Interconnectedness of All Things (In Writing)
By Heather Webb | March 22, 2018 |
Can you think of a moment when something felt so right, it seemed as if idea or information was whispered directly into your ear by a little fairy at exactly the right moment? Or there was that time you picked up a book that called to you for some reason. Perhaps it was on your shelf for months—years—but at that moment, you knew it was time to read it. Boy, are you glad you did, because as you’re reading, you notice, oddly, that this book holds a lesson for you that came at the precise moment you needed it.
I was recently reading Big Little Lies by Liane Moriarty and had a major A-HA! moment. Though the novel or genre is nothing like my work-in-progress, it got me thinking about my manuscript from a different angle at EXACTLY the right moment. In fact, that little piece of inspirational gold has up-ended the entire structure of my work-in-progress. (This is why I don’t buy the excuse that reading novels by other authors while working on your own is a bad idea. I’m inspired constantly by reading, either through a research gem, or a craft gem. Reading is a hugely important part of the writing process. But I digress…) Needless to say, it amazed and delighted me. There have been many more of these magical moments along the way….which made me think:
Where do these little gems come from, and how do know exactly when to pick that book or listen to that song? Is there something ordered about these A-HA moments that we don’t understand? Where do they come from and what do they mean?
We’re under so many influences, from social media to pop culture trends to political trends. Writers (and other artists) are particularly sensitive to these influences. I would go on to say we have a certain vision of the world others don’t; we tend to be more aware of nuance and behaviors and details that are pregnant with meaning. Does this, therefore, mean our portals are more open to serendipitous occasions in which we find PRECISELY what we’re looking for–or need?
Some would call this serendipity. I call it being tapped in to something greater than ourselves. Some sort of zeitgeist or energy field or God, if you will.
So zeitgeist. I would love to learn German. The language manages to capture psychological concepts that are often difficult to pin down in our thoughts, never mind in our expression (and certainly never in English). Schadenfreude, taking pleasure in someone else’s pain; weltschmerz, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders; fremdscham, feeling the shame and embarrassment someone else is experiencing; and then there’s one that is relative to today’s lesson, which also happens to be one of my favorites as a cultural geographer and historical novelist: zeitgeist. Zeitgeist is defined as capturing the spirit or mood of a particular period of history as shown by the ideas and beliefs of the time.
This is what writers do. We tap into that zeitgeist unwittingly and funnel an idea through us like a straw. Well, some of us do this better than others, but ultimately, this “tapping in” is all about energy.
The Interconnectedness of All Things
What if zeitgeist goes beyond our cultural influences and is really rooted in science? The science of energy. Since matter is neither created nor destroyed, each one of us harnesses a form of energy as we flow from one version of matter to the next, and our thoughts, therefore, are part of a larger consciousness. This is how trends begin separately and ultimately converge. If you study history, this interconnectedness becomes very apparent in the way inventions or scientific discoveries have emerged almost simultaneously in different geographical regions—and cultures—that were isolated from one another. So…these ideas and thoughts and sparks of creation are all just there, floating around in this giant cloud. And somehow, we are all connected to it through our energy waves and particles and stuff. I know. What’s the point?
We must use this connectedness to capture ideas.
Think of these idea gems as butterflies that flutter around your metaphysical space. The more open we are—and the better we manage life’s interruptions—the more aware we become of these cosmic opportunities. The thing is, there are SO MANY ideas out there, so it’s hard to know where to start for some of us, or to decide which will come first. Discerning which idea you will explore comes with practice, but it’s also about pushing past our filters and judgments and fears, and really exploring. And there’s one more important piece to this connectedness (well, there’s tons more, but stay with me). Connectedness is often not about looking for something. It’s about being in a state of reception. Be ready to receive , even if what comes your way scares you or challenges you.
I find tapping into these ideas and knowing which way to go in my fiction is a lot like listening to your intuition while you’re editing. You begin to recognize the necessary revisions that resonate with you through practice, and by clearing your brain of doubt and distraction. In time, you can “feel” what is right and recognize the best course of action to take. In time, you can not only recognize this connectedness, but you can feel it. Let it guide you.
And if you don’t let it guide you? This flow of energy around you never stops moving, so if you choose to ignore it, the idea will be captured by someone else. They’ll tap into the zeitgeist in their own way.
And finally, we must use this energy and call to ourselves what we wish to manifest.
This applies to our lives at large, but it also applies to our fiction. We are co-creaters alongside this energy. If we are open—if we listen and receive—rather than laugh off notions we can’t explain, we can develop these pieces of inspirational gold in our own authentic way. Maybe we’ll even make a piece of art we are very proud of.
This is some heavy duty stuff and I found it very difficult to discuss in such a short post. It makes for good conversation, however, and I thought I’d give it a whirl. Can you think of instance in which you read, saw, or heard the most perfect little gem that revealed an important truth in your work in progress? Did you feel as if it came from something greater than little ol’ you?
[coffee]
Heather Webb is the USA Today bestselling and award-winning author of historical fiction. As a freelance editor and an adjunct in a MFA in Creative Writing program, Heather has helped many writers sign with agents and go on to sell at market. When not writing, she feeds her cookbook addiction, geeks out on history and pop culture, and looks for excuses to head to the other side of the world. To date, her books have been translated to seventeen languages.
My favorite German word is Sehnsucht: the longing (joy and sadness, hope and nostalgia) for the home you’ve never been to, longing for another world. Sometimes that’s allowed in a given zeitgeist and sometimes a zeitgeist works against it — since a zeitgeist, historically speaking, was a spirit that literally influenced an entire era of history. Ours last hundred years seem to be particularly under the influence first of Mars and then of Eros and now of Plutus, for good and ill.
But regarding the practical stuff:
Over time dream journaling helped me in this arena. I made the mistake in an earlier novel of actually incorporating these dreams directly into the main character and I think that’s precisely what you’re encouraging us to avoid: literally using the inspiration directly through the eyes of the main character, verbatim. But through reflection the dreams yielded some bigger insights and I came up with a sort of bucket system:
• Bucket
• Chunk
• Marinade
All complemented by Scott Belsky’s action system, which I recommend to all the artists my wife and I work with but ESPECIALLY fiction writers. Basically you get an idea and throw it in the “bucket” document, which is the “backburner” part of Belsky’s system.
Then after a few similar items or thoughts get into the bucket / backburner, they start to clump together either into action steps for your current focus project or research items for your current focus project.
And sometimes enough of those chunks start to marinade that they become a completely different project altogether.
In this way, you’re constantly fielding inspiration and letting some ideas die, some of them become action steps for a scene or a chapter, some of them simply become background fodder for a character or setting, and others end up becoming fully-formed stories of their own.
Just because it’s inspiration doesn’t mean you can’t systematize it. After all, that’s the literal (though not the critical) meaning of deus ex machina: the ghost in the machine.
And, if fielded and heeded well, momentary inspiration can always beget a new zeitgeist.
Tangential but personal:
I just had a dream right before waking this morning that I accidentally bought 10 naked puts of a stock worth $99 and since each put represents a share block of 100 shares, that was a debit of $99,000 I didn’t have and I was desperately trying to sell the puts back to faceless people that didn’t want them, all while watching them lose more and more value.
Now to find a way to use whatever that is and means….
You’re quite right, Lance. Sometimes these tidbits of inspiration are too esoteric for literal and direct application, but they certainly get our brains moving in a new direction! Thanks for your thoughtful comments today.
Thanks for the awesome post, sister.
Finding what you need when you need it. Yes, I’ve experienced that.
There are other ways to look at it. One is that when we are in a creative state–flow–then we see meaning and utility in random bits of information that otherwise would float by us unnoticed. In other words, it isn’t the universe making connections for us, but we who are plucking connections out of a vast stream of data.
Like particles streaming from the sun, we bend random information around our gravity and create a light show, the aurora borealis.
But I prefer the idea that the universe is helping us out. It’s nice to think that somehow the universe wants us to be writing. It’s nice not to feel alone in this endeavor, which is why posts like yours today are so valuable.
We connect. Thanks.
Benjamin, I LOVE this that you said:
“Like particles streaming from the sun, we bend random information around our gravity and create a light show, the aurora borealis.”
Quite poetic. You must be a writer. ;) Thanks for your comments.
Great response, thank you. Love the aurora borealis visual!
Great essay, Heather. I always scratch my head when an author friend tells me she can’t read novels while working on a MS. I have gained tremendous insights from reading novels that have improved my WIP. As writers we are the sum total of our life experiences and what we read. We miss opportunities when we close ourselves off to good writing. You never know what will inspire you or spark an idea. Thanks for these words of wisdom, Heather.
And these random sparks of inspiration come from more than just books, of course, but I feel the pathways are open the more you delve deeply into stories an characters of all kinds.
Happy writing!
Heather, I enjoyed your heavy-duty post. My whole life can be called one serendipitous event after another. I’ve always loved Pasteur’s “chance favors the prepared mind.” Whenever I’m thinking deeply about something, books, articles, people come my way that I was looking for exactly! It’s like being tuned into that frequency. I have many saints who made themselves known to me exactly when I needed their help. So I’m convinced that there’s actually no such thing as chance or coincidence, rather grace upon grace being poured out and we only have to open our hearts to receive. And like you say, there’s a flow, so this grace spills over to others around me. Thanks for all the good food for thought.
What a great quote, Vijaya, and a lovely image of this grace pouring out and around us…if we’re only there to receive it. Happy writing!
This post is awesome, Heather. Just awesome. You got me thinking hard and long this morning…and maybe swiping at invisible things floating by. LOL.
I have two sides to me, conflicted. One lives weightless in a magical realm where all is possible. The other is firmly planted, strong but unseeing. I am known to say I catch story ideas on the wind, and if you listen, you can hear them whisper for your attention. I also believe the knowledge is within, in my mind, in everyone’s mind, and all that is required is to tap into the power already present.
What I love most about your post, Heather, is it brings my conflicted sides together, to speak on peaceful grounds. What a lovely way to start my day. Thank you.
Dee Willson
Author of A Keeper’s Truth and GOT (Gift of Travel)
I’m enjoying your imagery here, Denise, and I can see we’re definitely on the same page. I, too, like to think of the fantastical and mystical, and believe science IS fantastical and mystical. Somehow all of this is linked and we’re among the lucky who can not only see it, but use it, give it our own sparkle, and release it again. Thanks for your thoughtful comments!
Oh, and in realizing I didn’t answer your questions….
Once, when I was doing preliminary research for A Keeper’s Truth, I felt there was something missing, an element I could see but not touch. I stopped everything I was doing and drove to the largest book store in the city, walked right to the back of the store, to an isle I would never browse, and dropped to a crouch to grab three books on the bottom shelf.
It was crazy. Lunacy.
Not only were these three books EXACTLY what I was looking for, but I had never heard of the authors or their subjects, and until feeling this missing element, had never considered the concepts.
I can’t explain it. I won’t even try.
See, conflicted.
Hugs,
Dee
WOW! What a great story. Carry that around in your back pocket and take it out when you doubt. ;)
Wait a minute… This is weird. Can you actually see inside my brain, Heather? See how it works? Not just the serendipity-butterfly netting, but the churning to make sense of it all? Wow, pretty cool that you can tune in your collective-consciousness so accurately to my frequency. (Oh, and just ignore all of that other crazy stuff.)
Seriously, I mean this as a compliment (even if it falls short of being one): this sounds like an essay I would’ve written. I mean, you’re usually so darn teacherly, and esteemed. Not that this isn’t worthy. It’s very worthy. It’s just that getting all semi-metaphysical and “come check out my woo-woo thought process” is usually my department.
Anyhoo, I’m right there with you. Happens all. The. Time. And over the years I’ve found that I can not just open myself to it, but sort of tune in on what I need. Especially (as Lance indicated) as I’m drifting into and out of slumber. Just this morning, at precisely 4:44 (amazing how many times I wake and look at the clock and it’s triple digits), I woke up hot, threw off a blanket, and tuned into my WIP. I’m sort of pantsing the weave of the resolution, and I asked The Universe what I should focus on for the next scene (weirdly, I had zero plan or idea for today). And boom, a character that I hadn’t been considering, that I definitely needed to get back to, popped into my thoughts. And I knew exactly what he has to do in the scene to move the story forward. I fell back asleep feeling cooler and more satisfied. Even pulled the blanket back on (there’s got to be a German word for the satisfaction that comes with pulling on a blanket when you’re chilled).
Speaking of learning German, I always think of the Mark Twain quote: “My philological studies have satisfied me that a gifted person ought to learn English (barring spelling and pronouncing) in thirty hours, French in thirty days, and German in thirty years. It seems manifest, then, that the latter tongue ought to be trimmed down and repaired. If it is to remain as it is, it ought to be gently and reverently set aside among the dead languages, for only the dead have time to learn it.”
And, before my comment gets longer than your post, I’ll end with William Blake: “Eternity is in love with the productions of time.” Since we are time-bound beings, it’s our job to seek productions worthy of the love of Eternity. It’s the least we can do, since Eternity is providing us with this wonderful stream of serendipity to utilize in the effort.
Great post to get me going on the serendipity butterfly I netted at triple fours. Thanks!
Vaughn, that quote undoubtedly came from Twain’s essay “The Awful German Language” which is quite amusing. Check it out if you can.
And Heather, “We must use this connectedness to capture ideas.” I love that there’s a practical side to cosmic woo-woo, or whatever it might be dubbed. (Maybe just call it “Louise” or “Craig,” since those German words are so long.) Thanks for the thoughtful post.
Vaughn, your follow-up to Blake sticks with me:
“Since we are time-bound beings, it’s our job to seek productions worthy of the love of Eternity.”
I’m coming late to today’s party, but this statement of yours is exactly what I need at this moment. See?
So I should consider myself lucky: as a native speaker, I learned German in give or take two years … :-)
Funnily enough, I think the word “Zeitgeist” is loved and used more by English speakers than by Germans. “Sehnsucht” of course is a very useful one, especially for writers.
What I feel more and more recently, is that some sentences want to be written in English, some prefer to be written in German. Which makes writing a novel in one language a bit difficult sometimes. (But I do stick to German in my story – you have to be absolutely sure that what you write is what you meant, without the traps provided by a language that is not completely hard-wired to one’s brain.) – But sorry, this is moving far away from the original post.
Vaughn, your comment made me go look up a word for warmth with a blanket and guess what? There’s something in German that sort of fits that description. Ha! Here’s what I found:
“Gemütlichkeit describes the whole atmosphere of your surroundings. It’s not just the state of being on a soft couch that gives you Gemütlichkeit. It’s being on a soft couch. Under a warm blanket. Surrounded by family. With a cup of hot chocolate in your hands. And maybe a knit cap on your head. It’s the whole experience and feeling that you have of being physically warm, but also metaphorically feeling warm inside your heart.”
As for Blake’s quote, I adore it and couldn’t agree more with your sentiments there.
In terms of this kind of post from me? I laughed. :D Seems like you need to spend more time around me. I talk and think like this allllllllll the time. I just don’t often put it on the internet. It’s difficult to explain for one, and for another, most people look at me like I’m a freak when I talk about God/spirituality/connectedness really being about the fabric of energy that runs this universe and holds it all together (Or hell, maybe other dimensions). Maybe I should be writing sci-fi instead?!
Great comments as always and hugs!
Hi, Heather:
I think one of the great joys of writing a novel is the way you become hyper-attuned to everything, and details you might have disregarded at some other time now become instantly, strangely relevant. Your mantra becomes “I can use that.”
Great post. Stay tuned!
I feel a bit sheepish while listening to friends, knowing my mind is filing their stories away for some character to reenact.
Thanks for your comments, David. I feel we’re lucky as writers, as if we’re in on secrets to human behavior and the universe at large that others aren’t. I’ll be staying tuned to the frequency for sure!
Happy writing, my friend!
I loved this post, Heather! Yes, I have had the experience of plucking ideas out of the air–evanescent wisps of thought and dream. This usually happens when I feel relaxed instead of reaching fruitlessly for the “perfect” idea. Lately, the problem of originality has been particularly vexing. I’ve read so many books that every time I think of something, I recall seeing that precise plot twist or element somewhere else. Maybe the solution is to be quiet and just listen, as you suggest.
Yes, S.K., try the quiet receptive mode for awhile. Perhaps the pushing and searching is actually forcing you in the wrong direction. The other thing is, maybe try filling your creative well with something completely unusual and different from your typical reads, activities, hobbies. It helps inform our writing sometimes in just the right way. Good luck! :)
In answer to your questions…simply a yes! I’m going to virtually share that coffee with you now…☕️
Thank you…
Thank you for the coffee, Brenda! :D Cheers, and and write on!
Heather,
I think this is one of my very favorite posts ever! This energy floating among and within has been on my mind. I follow this energy I call magic. In fact, I look for it everywhere.
“Some would call this serendipity. I call it being tapped into something greater than ourselves. Some sort of zeitgeist or energy field or God, if you will.”
Love. Love. Love.
xo,
Janna
What a lovely compliment, Janna! And it sounds like we are alike, looking and listening for the magic. :D Happy hunting!
I definitely believe in this. The last novel I wrote was mostly linear. This one, oddly enough, is historical so you’d think it would most assuredly be linear. I know when things happen to historical characters and so my characters have to fit on that timeline, but it’s been a chunk writing experience.
I’ll write a scene and think, “No idea what I’m going to do with this, but there it is.” Sometime later I’ll be perking along and, “Oh, that’s where that goes.” and drop it in, just like I planned it that way.
A friend sent me a copy of a period newspaper because it had an article about Stuart’s ride around McClellan’s army he thought I’d enjoy reading. I read the whole newspaper and there, in a published letter from a POW, was a fascinating tidbit that has morphed into one of my most powerful scenes.
I had a mushroom character pop up (Diana Gabaldon calls these characters that appear from nowhere fully formed) who was a very colorful Texas Ranger. I left him because he was fun and wasn’t causing trouble. Later, there was the aha moment. Ah, that’s who he was and why he was there.
I think the boys in the back know more than we think if we will just get out of their way and stop trying to be so logical when we write.
They sure do, Wendy. I’m a logical person so I’ve been learning how to NOT be logical during drafting in particular; just let the words and ideas flow because something in my subconscious mixes with the magic in the air around me when I do that. But each new project is different and I find I have to relearn my process over and over again. Thanks for your thoughtful comments!
Fantastic essay, Heather. This happens to me All. The. Time. I look for the reinforcement now, especially when I’m not quite sure I’m on the right track. Recently, I was torn over an idea, but I was playing around to see if it would work. In an unrelated (ha!) tangent, I looked up a word to be sure it meant what I thought it did, and there was a big, fat reinforcement. I can’t say details because it’s a WIP, but the more I pulled on the string, the more I got. It’s so much fun.
Where do these things come from? I have no idea, but I trust them.
Thanks, dear.
You know, sometimes we just need to ask and the answer comes to us in its own time. So much of this is mysterious, which is why it’s such fun, isn’t it?
Write on, my friend!
Heather, I adore that you wrote about this. It’s hard to put into words–heavy duty ideas, indeed!–but it is absolutely true for me as well. It’s happened that as I’ve been writing, I’ve wandered over to one of my bookshelves and selected a book without knowing why, opened it, and found exactly what I’ve needed at that moment. Again and again! Also–your essay brought to mind a time when I was at an Arlo Guthrie concert, and he was talking about how he and Pete Seeger would go off to a cabin to write together. Arlo said that he’d be sitting there scratching his head and waiting for inspiration while Pete would be scribbling away. Then he realized that Pete sat next to the door, and all the ideas were coming in and landing on him first before they could even get to Arlo. So after that, I’ve always made sure to sit where the ideas can come and find me. Whatever else it is, it IS magic. And that’s just one reason I love being a writer. (My book coming out in June, Matchmaking for Beginners, is all about this intuitive kind of magic. I finally felt confident enough to put this in my fiction.) Thank you for this essay!
Well, Maddie, I’m really looking forward to reading this book of yours! Congratulations! I enjoyed your anecdote about Pete Seeger and Arlo as well. I wonder where I can sit and absorb all the good ideas? :) Happy writing!
Heather, thank you. You confirmed for me some of the serendipity and interconnectedness that I engage in as I write. Ideas wherever we find them come to us in different ways then they come to others. Our brains interpret and use them in ways that are unique. No one owns the universe of ideas. The beauty of creativity is the variety that fills pages and pages with words–all communicating in new and unfound ways. The beauty of being open to ideas (and many have said so in their answers) is where we find them. Bravo for that book on the shelf, that review in the newspaper, that article on the web. Magic happens.
I couldn’t agree more, Beth. Great thoughts and thanks for stopping by!
Hey Heather,
Since we’re getting all quasi-semi-hoodooesque, have you ever heard of the energy field of intention?
According to the late Wayne Dyer, it’s an invisible, infinite field of energy, beyond the world of form and boundary, that one can access at will (or even accidentally), allowing for experiences like the one you mentioned above. I guess you could call it tapping into a collective unconsciousness. Maybe that’s why, as I scrolled and read the comments on my way down here, we writers experience them all. the. time. We are observers by nature and, perhaps because of that, more inclined to recognize and make use of what the universe unfolds before us.
But you have to get your ego out of the way. It can’t be gimme, gimme, gimme — that’s greed, a negative, and negative will be returned unto you…or so says the power of intention (and most theologies). You must be still and receptive to it: what you are is what you attract.
You have to just be, to let go, to allow. You have to be free and make this your consciousness. Then basically, what you would tune into is a frequency (of energy) that manifests itself through the process of giving, of allowing, of offering and of serving. It asks nothing in return.
Wonderful article, Heather!
Mike, thank you for the coffee! I’ll be sipping on that this afternoon. :D
I haven’t heard of the energy field of intention, and Mike, I just ate up your comments. Such fascinating and intriguing stuff, this energy and universe and creative life of ours. I feel so lucky to be a part of it. Thank you for sharing your insightful thoughts! Write on, friend.
Yes indeed. I couldn’t agree more (well, except that I have a hard time reading novels while writing them, but that’s because I lose the voice and “place” of my own too easily, perhaps. To each her own.). And I think there are plenty of applications in life as well as in writing (or creativity in general) — it’s just that creative people might be more aware of them and more willing to accept them at face value rather than necessarily needing to fit them into some kind of rational construct of the world. I have a newish blog that delves into some of these “tapped into something greater” ideas that I’ll put into the website field here in case you’re interested in popping in. (Also, surely you’ve read Julia Cameron’s Artist’s Way, yes? Which comes at some of these things from another angle.) Thanks for making some of the connections here as well as the insight into a few German terms!
Joni, a voice from my old stomping grounds!!! How are you? I checked out your new website and just want to give you a big hug.
Joni, thank you for the book recommendation. No, I haven’t read Julia’s book. I’ll check it out! Love these sorts of discussions. Also, I really liked this statement that you made. How true it is!
“Creative people might be more aware of them and more willing to accept them at face value rather than necessarily needing to fit them into some kind of rational construct of the world.”
I experience this all the time – both alone and in the company of friends (including you Heather!!) – those magical moments when things fall into place. It’s the best experience in the world – and I’m looking forward to much more of it in the coming year, as I finish my cancer treatment and set off on a lifelong-dream adventure!
I suspect you’ll have many on the mountain tops, my friend. <3 Write on!
Since I’m agnostic, I don’t feel anything comes from outside of me but everything originates from my experiences or my reactions to the outside world—that all things are random and coincidental.
However, every so often I have those: “Well, that’s really something!” moments where it appears something outside of my own Self creates some path or AHA or whatever that is so unexpected I wonder just wonder and wonder again.
And then all of that wonder blows the mind! I love those moments. Thanks for your comments, Kathryn!
What a thought provoking post! I find it happens to me in the form of music. I spend a lot of time walking my border collie, listening to incredible songwriters nobody’s ever heard of on my headphones, and the lyrics will speak to me. “Use that,” they will say. “There’s a story, just in that line.”
It happens to me with music as well, Ellen. Anything artistic feeds the well, yes? Happy writing!
What a great discussion! The phenomenon of parallel ideas in different cultures at the same time is known as the Superorganic in Anthropology. Cultural anthropologists love it!
I bet those anthropologists do! I have a master’s degree in cultural geography and the things we study are right in alignment with anthropology. Such fascinating stuff! Thanks for stopping by!
Thank you Heather, great post! And yes, I agree with you. I find reading and researching is inspirational to my writing.
Thanks for stopping by, Luna!
Great argument for pansting over plotting. The energy I feel when the character takes over their own direction and says, plot be damned, often is realized after I wake up after hours have been typed out.