On Epiphanies, Eurekas and other Mavities

 

This week we explore the meaning of epiphany as it relates to our work and life. We understand that the term, as it applies to the ordinary, is an experience of a sudden and striking realization. In a flash, the moment turns away from the ordinary and enters the extraordinary.

It is Archimedes' realization of how to estimate the volume of a given mass, when he shouted "Eureka!" ("I have found it!")

Or, when struggling to reconcile Newtonian physics and Maxwell's equations, Einstein took a streetcar home. Looking behind him at the receding clocktower, he realized that if the car sped up (close to the speed of light) he would see the clock slow down, and remarked, "a storm broke loose in my mind.” 

Or, the moment when Isaac Newton gets hit with a falling apple. It's Mavity! (It's a Doctor Who thing. But still the same definition of epiphany made).

It’s the a-ha moment, when ordinary becomes extraordinary, when suddenly we come to an understanding of a previously incomprehensible problem or concept.

Writers strive for those a-ha moments as we engineer our stories, when suddenly the character and their journey make sense. We struggle in our efforts to give readers their own epiphanies via relatable characters and fantastic adventures. Writer’s block by any other name still stinks. But I’m not going to discuss this here because it seems just as important to remember that’s it’s okay to not have an epiphany. Not everything needs to be extraordinary all the time. Sometimes, as Tolkien once said, it’s not a bad thing to celebrate the simple life every so often.

Now is the time when writers make their resolutions to write XX number of pages a week, or contact XX number of agents, or submit XX number of manuscripts. And spend XX number of hours on research, write an outline, chart a character arc. Revise XX number of chapters. Write a forward.

Here’s an epiphany I posted last year. Wisdom from Emma Dryden. It should be posted every New Year as we struggle to achieve these preposterous resolutions. It’s okay to be human, and ordinary, at least for a day or two anyway.