Have you ever felt like Don Quixote, tilting at windmills in your mind as you scour the maze in your brain for something ·ANYthing?

"Clustering", a free-association technique described by Gabriele Rico, Ph.D., in her book WRITING THE NATURAL WAY (Tarcher/Putnam, 2000), might be just what you're seeking. I'm only finished with the second chapter, yet already have reaped benefits. The possibilities are exciting.

Looking forward, I can see that this method will facilitate brainstorming for a brand new idea, expansion upon an existing idea, and detection of the possibilities (or lack thereof) for merging ideas into a cohesive unit. This technique should help to write short stories, articles, poetry, and even novels. It promises to take your writing from ho-hum accounting of events to effective storytelling.

The idea behind "clustering" is to give the free spirit side of your brain a chance to "brain barf", if you will, without the stick-in-the-mud side of your brain whining, "Eeeuw, that's disgusting. CLEAN THAT UP RIGHT NOW!" If you were constantly being told you're "disgusting, terrible, AWFUL, unworthy of existence!!", you wouldn't want to come out and play, either. Hence, windmills a la Mancha.

Because you're dealing with the freewheeling area of your brain when you "cluster," you'll tend to produce less journal-entry style writing (On Wednesday we visited Auntie Maude. She was in a bad mood because of the tornado warnings and yelled at us, so we put salt in the sugar bowl.) and tighter, more lyrical prose (Auntie Maude's mood the day the tornado hit was worthy of salt in the sugar bowl.) It's not far from there to a truly amusing/moving/enlightening/etc. anecdote, absorbing short fiction, or an outstanding poem.

Imagine the Universe at birth, according to the "Big Bang" theory. An Ur-Center. A catalytic explosion. Gases and debris soar outward from the Center. As they race deeper into the void, they swirl and gravitate toward each other; over time they coalesce, cool, solidify. At last a beautiful creation emerges: a life-sustaining planet, as solid as the initial Center might once have been. Perhaps the planet is not what the Creator of The Big Bang envisioned, but possibly it's something better and definitely something malleable.

Draw a circle, your "Center". Inside the circle, write a word, or a name, or a phrase. Now free-associate (Bang!) your way toward your creation. Draw lines to new circles wherein you write whatever your mind seizes upon in relation to the Center or current thoughts. Keep associating, radiating outward from the Center. Some idea clusters will be more populous than others.

Associate until you begin to feel a sense of unity. Be patient with yourself--you may find you want to revolt at first. I kept worrying that my "Universe" was growing too big to handle, kept wondering when the "aha" moment would strike. For me, it snuck in the back door. For others it no doubt swaggers boldly through the front door (I suppose it never knocks first). You'll recognize it, though. You'll feel like writing "about something" (Eureka!) and you'll have an inkling of where the "something's" headed (Euphoria!).

As quickly as possible, write your first draft. NO STOPPING TO THINK or that stick-in-the-mud side of your brain might poop the party. If you need prompting, browse your Big Bang drawing (which probably resembles Jackson Pollock's "Number 1"). Write with the idea of "wholeness" in mind, that is, write a complete idea, or, as Dr. Rico directs, write a vignette, not a paragraph. Bring the end around to the beginning. The circular nature of clustering lends itself to this. Now give your whimpering stick-in-the-mud side a shot, and everyone--both sides of your brain and you, the author (and maybe an editor?)--should feel satisfied.

Just as the first life form on Earth was complete, if not immediately perfect, so too shall your creation metamorphose.

Give "clustering" a galactic whirl. Look out windmills!