Writing: As Told By Brian Griffin
The recent episode of Family Guy, "Peter Problems", discusses gender roles when Peter gets fired and feels emasculated for not being the breadwinner anymore. In a scene where Lois decides to look for a job to pick up the slack, Brian suggests a job-training program and the following conversation unfolds:
Peter: You know, Brian, you could get a job.
Brian: I have a job. I'm a writer, Peter. I'm working right now. See this? All this? This is the raw material of a picture of life that I'm gonna paint with words.
Peter: Yesterday it took you 30 minutes to lap up a cold cut off the floor.
Brian: That's my process!
As Brian storms off, their very well-written comical exchange made my ears perk up and laughter ensue, but there's more truth behind this 15 second blip of television than most people grasp. Being a writer myself, I'm constantly asked what it is I do. Not even that, but like Brian, feel like I must justify it entirely. One might argue that it'd be a lot easier answering that question if I was, say, a Wegman's cashier or corporate accountant. Not to say that those careers lack depth or meaning but any creative can tell you that being asked to define their process is like asking to explain the secret ingredient in their grandmother's recipe. It's a little bit of this, a little bit of that.
When you're in the business of wordsmithing, being cut-and-dry just isn't part of the repertoire. I've read a lot of articles and books on the true job description of writers and all of them seem to say the same thing—observation is key. Writers draw much (all) of their inspiration from everyday surroundings and experiences, no matter how mundane. So Brian's dog-like behavior being part of his process is absolutely correct. Hilarious and repulsive, but correct.
For some, the biggest part of the creative process is being fully engulfed in research, learning everything there is about their subject, and then making sense of it all. For others, it's taking a walk to get coffee, paying in quarters, and having the barista comment that you're both wearing the same color nail polish.
Either way, you have to be in touch with your audience—understanding what they want, what makes them tick, what rouses an emotional response—if you want your content to resonate. But you also have to be in touch with yourself. How do you as the creative relate and come full circle?
I know many writers who are really good at what they do. They go to work, write great copy for eight hours, and collect a paycheck every two weeks. Surface level involvement isn't a bad thing. Companies and clients need people who can get the job done with little objection. But I also know writers who invest themselves deeply from strategy to development, asking questions and offering ideas because they don't just want to write a tagline that makes people temporarily interested. They want head-turning impact.
It's this kind of experiential way of thinking that breeds the most relevant, life changing content. Sure, a typical conversation on any given Wednesday morning, on the outside, doesn't seem the smallest bit eye opening. But look closer. It's the intricate details—the little things in life—that could offer up pieces of the story you've yet to tell. Like Brian says, you can find meaning in many things. It simply depends on what you choose to pay attention to, even if it's licking cold cuts off the kitchen floor.