I know a lot of people talk about seeing their stories, visualizing details, having a picture of what's going on where they can watch it in their mind like a movie. I've never quite understood this because it's never happened to me like this. I actually don't picture anything in my head. When I'm writing I hear the words in my mind and I type them. I think in words, not in pictures. Is this really weird? Does anyone else work this way?
I often picture "scenes" from my own work before I actually write them, like a blurry movie of sorts. I also picture things from other books when I read scenes from them. I think different brains just work differently. I think it was on this forum where I read that another user saw scenes crystal clear, like they were there. I envy that ability.
Yes, it's a thing. No, you're not weird. It's called aphantasia. Pulled from Wikipedia: Apparently the ability to mentally create vivid imagery is called hyperphantasia. I imagine most people are somewhere on the scale of inbetween. I feel like I'm more on the aphantasia side of things.
Ah yes, there was a similar thread about it: https://www.writingforums.org/threads/hyperphantasia-and-the-imagination.172269/
Oh, you're definitely not alone. If I concentrate, I can generally visualize a scene pretty well, but it takes effort and doesn't happen automatically. The same goes when I'm reading, too. I'm just much more attuned to language than I am to images.
Wow! I didn't know this was a thing. I just thought something was wrong with me. I'm all the way aphantasia, not anywhere in between. I'm all the way at that end of the scale. I wonder where most writers fall. I always hear about writers who visualize scenes or character. I see nothing. But I don't actually think this hurts me as a writer. I just don't really know any different.
It isn't weird at all. Education has know for a long time, that some are visual learners, while others are more audible in their learning. From what you posted, I would guess you are in the later group. For me, the better I can see the scene in my mind, the better I can put it on the page. And the better it comes out. If I can't see the scene, it can be a slog to put it on the page.
It's interesting to read how the brains of other people function. I'm on the far end of hyperphantasia, seeing things vividly as I write. Sometimes what I'm seeing doesn't match what I intended to write, so I change the written words, trusting my imagination instead of my conscious intent. Usually works just fine.
This is interesting and weird. I think most people are like you guys, but I just can't imagine it. It's like my mind is blind and always has been. I have know idea how, but this must be affecting me as a writer. I say I have know idea how because the obvious things like I wouldn't have good description or my characters wouldn't be developed enough aren't really problems. While I don't see them in my mind I can write about them without seeing them. Wherever you fall on the scale how do you think this affects your writing?
I usually see things clearly. The problem is determining what details to describe and describing them in an effective way so the reader sees it too, or can at least formulate their own 'image'. Still haven't figured out how to do that well.
You say you hear the scene instead of see it. It doesn't seem to be a hindrance, so I wouldn't worry about it. The simplest analogy I can think of is your listening to the golden age of radio, while others are seeing the classic shorts in the movie theater.
Sometimes I visualise things, but usually not. But it's more than just visuals. A movie is only audio-visual, but reality uses all 5 senses, and my imagination does too. I think everyone's does, but we usually only talk about the visual and maybe sound. But usually what I get isn't really full 'visualisation' (or any senses). It's what I call pre-vis (I'm simplifying now by only talking about the visual, but it includes all senses). Or maybe proto-visuals. It's sort of the idea of visuals (and sounds, and texture, smell, even taste if that applies). It's like it's right there, ready to roll, but it doesn't quite fully form. But that doesn't matter. It's still a great experience, and pretty immersive, if subtle. Sometimes I do get real visuals. It seems to be mostly when I'm close to sleep. Or maybe there are other times when I can do it, I'm not sure. But I don't think imagination needs to be visual or sensory. Just this pre-vis is enough. You can get other things too besides just the outer senses, like the sense of being spun in an amusement park ride for instance, or flying, or accellerating forward. Inner senses I suppose, like balance. I've seen @Seven Crowns mention these inner senses before. This might be better than having full powerful visuals (or sensurround), because the writing part of my mind is also fully engaged at the same time. Or I might need to pay attention to the imagination for a while and then return to writing, I'm not sure. It's the kind of thing that just happens, I don't really think about it. But I don't really do this all the time. Sometimes I'm just thinking in words when I write. I don't think one or the other is better or more powerful. It just seems to be two different modes of imagination. Or maybe at times the sensurround (TM) isn't as strong, and that might be when the thinking is just in words. I haven't really paid attention to it while writing. Now I want to.
Huh, that is something I've never actively considered. It's usually dream-like for myself. Incomplete rough sketches, hybridized with feeling and words—the opposite of vivid. In fact, it's the same kind of thing I imagine while reading.
Last night, while suffering through the crapfest hell-slog that is Escape From LA, I did a few little tests. I just have to basically stop thinking in words and become aware of my sensory imagination. And I have to prompt it. If I don't there's usually nothing there. But I can think about a few sensory experiences, like for instance Silky Feel. It isn't real specific, it's just a vague almost overall sense that my skin is rubbing up against something silky. I thought about what part of my skin it was, and it was several at once—sort of my hands, fingers, upper arms, and my face. Then I thought about Warm Skin and I was feeling warm skin. I prompted with words, but I don't think that's necessary, because once I get the feeling going I could instantly get related feelings. Warm Skin immediately after Silky brought on a sensation of lips pressed against mine and the feel and smell of soft hair against my face, as well as a feeling of soft warm skin pressed against me. Then I thought Red and I could sort of see red, just indefined, all around me, as if I had a red filter suddenly dropped over my eyes. But it's all vague, not vivid or tightly defined. It's like it's under the surface, and if you're concentrating on the words you'll fail to notice it. Or maybe you could say it's just imaginary. But then the imagination is a powerful tool. This happens when I think about for instance settings, especially if it's a place I'm very familiar with that has a lot of strong sensory information, such as the woods. I get sort of an instant montage of a lot of sensations—imagery, sounds, tactile, all at once. Each is like a fragment, but it's like a kaleidoscope of all of them sort of rotating through each other. I don't know if they overlap at the same time, or if I only get visual briefly, then touch, then smell or sound, and because they're happening so fast they form into a unified moment. But if I concentrate on it, it becomes more strong and vivid. Then I can write from those fleeting impressions. This is of course the same mechanism that becomes dreaming when you fall asleep. It's just a lot weaker when you're awake. If I try this close to sleep it's far more vivid and powerful, but I have much less concentration and control and it can easily just turn into a dream. Years ago, when I was into lucid dreaming, I learned to pay close attention to what's going on inside my body and mind, especially under unusual circumstances, like when about to fall asleep or waking up. That's when I began to realize a lot of these things. Also, whole studying painting, I ran across some very similar advice from Howard Pyle, who said you need to visualize a painting before you paint it—live in the world, experience the people there and their lives, smell the smells, feel the textures.
Just did another brief test. I thought Silky and then imagined several different body parts (my own I mean). As soon as I thought about one, it's like I can feel silk rubbing sensuously against it. Then I immediately switched to Sandpaper, and yep, I can feel it against any body part I want to, instantly. Fire, Ice, anything that has a strong sensory or tactile aspect.
