What a Daily Brainstorm Practice Has Taught Me
By Lauren Harkawik
About six months ago, I began a new daily writing practice. It’s deliriously simple, and it has fundamentally changed the way I think about writing as an act. It has also transformed my actual writing.
The practice is this: each day, I brainstorm one new fiction or creative nonfiction concept.
Like I said, it’s deliriously simple. Its simplicity is, I believe, key to its success. Its results have been profound.
The daily brainstorm is the first task of my writing day. I pick a new concept. I brainstorm in longhand because longhand has, for me, a magical, spiritual quality to it. It tethers me to the more timeless aspects of the act of storytelling in a way the computer screen doesn’t. So, in longhand, I brainstorm with fervor – but for only one handwritten page. This parameter is important. I need my daily brainstorm to be a low-stakes commitment. It’s what keeps me from making excuses not to do it. If one page is the expectation and the rule, then achieving the expectation daily is within reach. That’s what I want and need, so that’s what I do.
There are no rules by way of form. Sometimes it’s bits of prose, sometimes it’s bullet-pointed lists, sometimes it’s cascades of ideas that come in a stream of consciousness. Regardless of form, I always walk away feeling good that I’ve conjured something into being that, just one page ago, did not exist. I’ve fulfilled the assignment.
Through this daily brainstorming practice, I’ve learned a lot about myself as a writer, and about the benefits of a daily brainstorming practice. Here are some takeaways.
I’ve always needed, but never really had, one singular place to collect ideas.
Before I started my daily brainstorm practice, often the first interaction I really had with a new idea was an attempt to draft it. Writing a draft of anything is, regardless of length, a whole thing. It takes time. It takes artistic energy. It comes with the possibility the thing might take over a great deal of time and also the possibility that the time spent might be for naught, because the thing might end up being terrible.
Commitment. A draft is commitment. And now that I’ve started this daily brainstorm practice, I’ve realized that in my former writing life, I sometimes avoided exploring ideas that came to me. Why? Fear of commitment. And what happened to those ideas I decided not to pursue out of fear of commitment? Most of the time, I forget about them. What good ideas flew away from me never to be remembered, simply because I wasn’t ready to commit?
My daily brainstorm has let me capture ideas that otherwise might have been not acted upon and gotten lost. The result is that I’m in possession of a cache of my creative impulses. It’s a catalogue of intentions, all in one place so that, in time, I can decide to expand upon one when I have the time to (here’s that word again) commit to creating an actual draft.
The daily brainstorm gives me something to write when I’m not sure what to do.
Sometimes, I know I want to write something, but I’m not sure what. The daily brainstorm gives me a container in which to put my writerly energy every day. It’s a task, an assignment. It gives me a window in. Nine times out of ten, once I’ve finished the brainstorm, my creative muscles are warmed up enough that I feel more ready to explore what I might want to draft that day.
The daily brainstorm has gotten my mind working in new ways.
When it’s time to sit down and actually draft the concepts I’ve brainstormed in my daily practice, I’ve found that I’m arriving with more to give to the page than I used to.
For me, it’s felt like by engaging with a concept for one brainstormed page, I’ve essentially created a file folder for that concept in my mind. Without realizing it, I add new ideas, characters, and textures to that file as I go about my daily life. As a result of this continual nurturing of ideas, the actual writing I’ve produced since starting this daily practice has been richer, weirder, and more “me” than what I was writing before. I attribute this to a fertile exchange of ideas that’s happening on an ongoing basis once I’ve created a concept but haven’t yet struggled through drafting it.
If you’re thinking about trying a daily brainstorm yourself, I highly recommend getting a notebook that you’ll dedicate solely to the daily brainstorm. That way, you’ll have all of your one-page concepts in one place. The notebook will quickly become a great resource for your future drafts, and will, hopefully, unleash your creative powers in the process.
Creating a notebook of ideas will also give you something to admire. I can attest that it is deliciously satisfying to flip through the notebook as it fills, day by day, with new possibilities. It’s a great daily reminder that the work of a writer isn’t just drafting. Dreaming is part of it, too.
Lauren Harkawik is an author of fiction and creative nonfiction. Her short works have been published in journals including Salt Hill, Cutleaf, and Autofocus. Her short story, "Joey Button," which was originally published in New Reader Magazine, is currently available worldwide in Short Édition's short story dispensers. Harkawik holds a BFA in dramatic writing from Purchase College and was a 2024 recipient of an Artist Development Grant, supported by the Vermont Arts Council and the National Endowment of the Arts. Harkawik’s writing can be found on her website, www.laurenharkawik.com.