The Left-Brain Or The Right Brain; Which Produces The Best Creative Writing?

My last cobbling on “thinking in three dimensions” ended by saying the experts had come to view it as a function of the brain’s right hemisphere as opposed to the left one. The concept that human functions can be linked to either the left or right side of the brain became an accepted fact after Roger W. Sperry won the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine 1981 "for his discoveries concerning the functional specialization of the cerebral hemispheres."

Starting in the 1960s, Sperry and his colleagues conducted some rather bizarre experiments that proved what medical experts had suspected for many years. Individuals who had suffered massive damage to one side of the brain retained certain functions. There was a consistency between functions lost or retained depending on the side of the brain suffering the damage.
Over the past thirty years, studies have shown that there is a consistency as to which side of the brain controls certain functions. And these studies have shown that the vast majority of individuals have a brain hemisphere that is dominant.

One expert summed up the differences quite succulently. The brain’s left hemisphere is the “center for the learning of skills such as mathematical, formulaic, linguistic, linear and sequential thinking; all valued in academics.” The right brain is “home to spatial, conceptual, pattern-seeking, associative and holistic thinking, all considered by many to be a deterrent to academic learning. Right brain people are looking for patterns rather than symbols.”

The following is one of the charts reflecting the overview of current thinking among those in the field of neuropsychology the basic scientific discipline that studies the structure and function of the brain. All of which leads to an interesting question. Who is better equipped to write creatively, left-brained people or right-brained people?



My late wife taught high school English for twenty-seven years, including classes in creative writing. Her experiences over the years left her with some interesting observations that support the left-brain/right-brain array of characteristics in the above chart. More on that next time.

Brookins Offers Insightful Review: Krueger's VERMILION DRIFT

I consider Carl Brookins to be one of the best when it comes to reviewing books. He shares his many reviews with me for posting on this site. It is an embarrassment to admit that I don’t find the to share more of them. But when it’s a Brookins review of William Kent Krueger’s latest offering, I make the time. I have not yet read VERMILION DRIFT, but I know what is in store for me when I do. Krueger’s writing is not just a mental exercise for me, but a visceral experience as well. Rare is the writer who can grab me in the gut as well as the brain.

VERMILION DRIFT
By William Kent Krueger
ISBN: 9781439153840
Hard Cover from Atria,
2010, 305 pages

Authors of crime fiction, like authors working in any other genre, often use their talents to work through personal issues, sometimes intensely private issues. Although it is not entirely clear, the writer may be working through some family issues with this novel. Does that matter?

Perhaps. That depends on the result. In this case, the author, possessed of well-honed, significant writing talent, has produced a novel of finely wrought proportions, multi-layered with considerable depth. By that I mean that the characters demonstrate multiple levels of engagement, and the story itself works on more than one level. Almost every character that appears in the book is involved in the story in more than one way. Some of their levels are casual or socially related, such as what may be routinely expected of law officers in Tamarack County, the Northern Minnesota location of this novel. Other characters, Henry Meloux, for example and other Native Americans; Sam Wintermoon, appears, and of course, Cork's mother and his father, Liam, all have, at different times, visceral involvement in the story.

The problem, if there is one, is that this story is much more a novel of family and community relationships than it is a novel of suspense, or crime, horrific and awful though the crimes were. Death is always the ultimate judge, from whom there is no appeal.

So, in my view, the problem is one of balance, or perhaps of categorization. The involvement of Cork O'Connor, now a private investigator, alone in Aurora, is mostly one of self-examination. The novel is one of Cork's journey of discovery. What was the meaning of his occasional nightmares? What were the issues that consumed and separated the O'Connor family in those last fateful months of Liam O'Connor's life?

The novel begins with Cork once again at odds with his Ojibwe heritage. His mother, remember, was a member of the tribe. He's hired by the owners of the Vermilion One and Ladyslipper mines to deal with threats against the mines. But then he's also tasked to try to locate a missing woman, sister of the mine owner. Lauren Cavanaugh has gone missing. Finding the missing woman opens a window on old unsolved crimes from a previous generation, from a time when Cork's father was the sheriff of Tamarack County.

Sorting through old albums, records and memories, fresh and repressed, takes up the body of the novel. As with all of this author's previous novels, the explanation is logical, satisfying and meaningful. Krueger, as always, is skillful in evoking the landscape, not just its physical self, but also its atmosphere, its mystical presence and its influences on the people who reside there.

In the end, this thoughtful exploration of law, truth and justice and their profound influences on all of us is a highly successful emotionally moving effort.


Carl Brookins
www.carlbrookins.com, agora2.blogspot.com
Case of the Greedy Lawyer, Devils Island,
Bloody Halls, more at Kindle & Smashwords!

DLers Comments Suggest They Have Vision to Become Good Woodcarvers

A strong thread of consistency appeared among the responses from DorothyL readers and writers when recently asked what depth, or the lack therein, in a novel meant to them.

Some said lack of depth means:
“…little or no context, (or) background…”
“…characters that aren't fully developed…”
“…characters or the plot (are) one dimensional-or even both…”
“…(does) not have a well-developed background…”

Others said:
“…depth equals complexity…”
“…true depth has to come from within…”
“…(it’s) how the parts are put together…”

Reading the original statement by a reviewer who opined that a book lacked depth⎯the comment that prompted me to ask the question⎯was a reminder of the techniques I learned some thirty-five years ago after I got the itch to do woodcarving.

My first step when I decided to pursue the idea of woodcarving was to talk with a local friend who was recognized as a master carver. The first question he asked was, “Can you think in three dimensions?” After he saw the clueless expression on my face, he held up a block of wood and a carving of a bird.

“Can you look at this block of wood and see the bird inside? If you can see the relationship of each part of the bird from every angle, then all you have to do is cut away everything that is not a part of the bird.”

Today, I see that block of wood as the first similarity between carving and creative writing. If most first drafts grow like mine, a massive block of words is created. It takes thinking in three dimensions to cut out every unnecessary word without destroying the depth of the story.

But back to my foray into carving. The block of wood I received was similar to the one pictured below. The carving in front of the block is my first attempt at cutting away everything that was not part of the bird. The legs are dowels, a commonly used technique.

That success and later training led to a brief and lucrative career as a carver of bas-relief eagles.

Along the way, I learned several techniques on how to turn blocks of wood into sellable carvings; techniques that I find are applicable to creative writing, and are consist with the comments from DLers about depth in a novel.

Bas-relief, as opposed to full three-dimensional carving, puts a premium on creating a believable impression of depth. This is where the ability to think in three dimensions becomes critical. In the words of DLers, “True depth comes “from within.” It’s “how the parts are put together.”

In bas-relief, every detail is not carved in full; every quill and vane on every feather is not detailed, but enough detail must be included to create the impression of spatial relationships among features and avoid a finished item that appears one-dimensional.

Now, unlike a Civil War historian who might write a fifteen-volume account on the battle at Stinky Creek, creative writers follow the techniques of bas-relief carving. Time and space do not allow every detail of every scene to be included … every physical detail of every character to be detailed … every thought and action that could possibly occur during the course of the story to be included.

“Thinking in three dimensions” was a seldom-heard term thirty-five years ago, but has become a part of our literature in recent years. Some in academia call it “systems thinking.” The concept has given rise to the pop-culture phrase, “think outside the box.” Experts say the ability is a function of the right brain vs. the left brain. Suggesting that maybe writers are right-brain people? More on that idea later.