Stuck Creatively? Play in a Sandbox

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Abstract

ernal editor. He is a bully and rule-number one of the sandbox is: no bullies allowed. Rule number two is: no adults allowed. The sandbox is where I can play like a child, without an iota of self-consciousness or shame.I once read that the novelist Donna Tartt writes at the top of each page of a draft THIS DOESN’T COUNT. This is the way of the sandbox. If it doesn’t count, there are no repercussions, real or imagined, for writing utter rubbish. If it doesn’t count you are free to fail and if you are free to fail you are free to create.Sandboxes are not meant to last, or to be seen by others. These are private worlds where judgment takes a holiday.Geniuses instinctively recognize the power of the sandbox. The 11th-century Chinese polymath Su Tungpo described his painting technique as “play with ink” and, according to his biographer, “wielded his poet’s pen almost as if it were a toy.” When Alexander Fleming, the scientist who discovered penicillin, was asked what he did, he replied, “I play with microbes.”Another famously playful scientist, physicist Richard Feynman, wrote that he enjoyed his “work” most when he was simply playing. “I used to do whatever I felt like doing — it didn’t have to do with whether it was important for the development of nuclear physics, but whether it was interesting and amusing for me to play with.”<p id

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="6e20">You don’t need to be a genius to benefit from the power of play. In<a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0960982214011245"> one study</a>, British researchers Patrick Bateson and Daniel Nettle asked some 1,500 people to rank their playfulness on a scale of one to seven. They then asked them to devise different uses for two everyday objects: a paperclip and a jar of jam. The respondents who regarded themselves as playful “were much more likely” to give lots of uses for the objects.That doesn’t necessarily mean they were good uses. Most of what we create in the sandbox should stay in the sandbox. Geniuses fail more often than non-geniuses. Thomas Edison held 1,093 patents, most for completely worthless inventions. Of Picasso’s twenty thousand works, most were far from masterpieces.As for literature, W. H. Auden observed, “In the course of his lifetime, the major poet will write more bad poems than the minor.” And, he might have added, the major poet spends more time playing in the sandbox than the minor one.Sandboxes are not meant to last, or to be seen by others. These are private worlds where judgment takes a holiday. In them, we play not for any reward but simply to play. Children know this instinctively. Adults need to be reminded that, no matter how accomplished, we never outgrow the sandbox.</article></body>

The hidden power of time without consequence

A century ago, the prolific novelist Frank Norris penned a line that has become a bellwether of authors everywhere: “Don’t like to write, but like having written.”

But how do we get from writing to having written? Much ink has been spilled in an attempt to answer that question. I humbly offer a one-word solution: sandbox.

When I am stuck, which is often, I create a new Word file and label it, in all caps, SANDBOX. Sometimes I create multiple sandboxes, one for each chapter or scene. Then I play. My fingers fly across the keyboard, liberated from the tyranny of consequences.

Do my sandbox sessions lead to publishable prose? No. More often that not it’s pure gibberish, but that’s okay. The point of the sandbox is not to produce polished prose but to get my hand moving, to free myself from the stranglehold of my internal editor. He is a bully and rule-number one of the sandbox is: no bullies allowed. Rule number two is: no adults allowed. The sandbox is where I can play like a child, without an iota of self-consciousness or shame.

I once read that the novelist Donna Tartt writes at the top of each page of a draft THIS DOESN’T COUNT. This is the way of the sandbox. If it doesn’t count, there are no repercussions, real or imagined, for writing utter rubbish. If it doesn’t count you are free to fail and if you are free to fail you are free to create.

Sandboxes are not meant to last, or to be seen by others. These are private worlds where judgment takes a holiday.

Geniuses instinctively recognize the power of the sandbox. The 11th-century Chinese polymath Su Tungpo described his painting technique as “play with ink” and, according to his biographer, “wielded his poet’s pen almost as if it were a toy.” When Alexander Fleming, the scientist who discovered penicillin, was asked what he did, he replied, “I play with microbes.”

Another famously playful scientist, physicist Richard Feynman, wrote that he enjoyed his “work” most when he was simply playing. “I used to do whatever I felt like doing — it didn’t have to do with whether it was important for the development of nuclear physics, but whether it was interesting and amusing for me to play with.”

You don’t need to be a genius to benefit from the power of play. In one study, British researchers Patrick Bateson and Daniel Nettle asked some 1,500 people to rank their playfulness on a scale of one to seven. They then asked them to devise different uses for two everyday objects: a paperclip and a jar of jam. The respondents who regarded themselves as playful “were much more likely” to give lots of uses for the objects.

That doesn’t necessarily mean they were good uses. Most of what we create in the sandbox should stay in the sandbox. Geniuses fail more often than non-geniuses. Thomas Edison held 1,093 patents, most for completely worthless inventions. Of Picasso’s twenty thousand works, most were far from masterpieces.

As for literature, W. H. Auden observed, “In the course of his lifetime, the major poet will write more bad poems than the minor.” And, he might have added, the major poet spends more time playing in the sandbox than the minor one.

Sandboxes are not meant to last, or to be seen by others. These are private worlds where judgment takes a holiday. In them, we play not for any reward but simply to play. Children know this instinctively. Adults need to be reminded that, no matter how accomplished, we never outgrow the sandbox.