Don't Lose Your Dinosaur

In what may be one of the best scenes of "Step Brothers," and that's saying something as almost every scene is pure comedy gold, the venerable Richard Jenkins gives the legendary, and unscripted, dinosaur speech.

Let me preface this post by saying that I understand this doesn't apply to all readers. It probably doesn't even apply to every parent. I know there are times where I'm tired, work was a grind, chores need to be done and my daughter wants all my attention.

But as someone who is hypervigilant to a fault most of the time, I make sure my daughter feels like I'm present. I don’t succeed 100% of the time, but I want to ensure she doesn't grow up with the memory that her dad had his face in his phone throughout her childhood.

Intentionality

So here comes the part where I talk about intentionality. And how does this relate to the dinosaur scene in "Step Brothers" as well as writing you ask? Because as I've been more intentional in playing with my daughter, it's brought me back to a sense of wonder and playfulness that I haven't experienced since I was around her age.

She's at the magical age of four where she understands more of the world. There is wonder and awe, but also vivid imagination. She talks constantly and creates fantasy worlds with her toys. One day it's Paw Patrol fighting PJ Masks and the next it's Spidey fighting dinosaurs.

And I love to hear those words, "Daddy, play with me." We build cities out of blocks and have Mickey Mouse rescue the citizens of said block city from the evil one-armed Rex from "Toy Story" (she broke his arm when she was younger).

In this playtime, I find myself not necessarily feeling like a kid again (because my back won't let me), but trying to come up with stories and scenarios on the spot to get her to laugh and play along, or build on them and create her own stories. I also get to see the world through her eyes, and that's a priceless tool at my disposal in my writing.

Playfulness as a writing tool

When my mind can be free to say anything silly during our play, I realize I can apply the same to writing. I can see her wonder at plat and infuse my writing with it as I create fantastical tales of beings from another planet or galactic wars raging across the starry skies. I’m not governed by my adult mind and what others will think. I’m simply letting go and having fun.

Especially in a first draft, which most often is messy and you're really just discovering what your story is in putting the bones together, I can write what I feel without the burden of thinking too much, as Ray Bradbury says (see my post on feeling vs. thinking when writing a first draft).

I can pretend I'm telling her a story and what would keep her little mind interested. I'm not saying dumb down your writing, but if you write sci-fi like I do, you know how wondrous it can be. And sometimes just writing it plainly like how you would tell a young kid a story can be helpful to get words on the page. The editing will come later and it's that part of the process where you can dig into sentence structure and prose and all the tricks that make the writing stand out.

But John, I have no kids

Well, like I said in the beginning, this post may not apply to all readers. But that doesn't mean you can't take something away. Maybe it's realizing why you wanted to write in the first place. What is a teacher who sparked your interest? A certain book or movie? Go back and read that book or watch that movie.

Do you have a niece or nephew? Younger cousins? Play with them the next time you visit your family or tell them a story. Watch them at play and see how their little minds work.

Remember why you started this journey to begin with. You have a story to tell. Something provoked you to write it. Keep going with it. If you're like me, it's a fire in your belly that won't let go of the dream to write a book. To type "The End" and finally call yourself an author.

Your dinosaur isn't lost. You just need to take it down from the shelf and dust it off.