How is improv like writing, and vice versa?

Writing is near-infinite. It’s an epic saga from 2500 years ago, a Shakespearean tragedy, “You Won’t Believe What’s In Your Grilled Cheese!”, and “200 mg per day, three times a day, for seven days — call if you notice any side effects.”

Improv is equally as near-infinite. I see it as re-creating the human experience in instantaneous time to build muscles for the rest of our lives outside of improv. It’s like writing in that it’s creative and generative, but without the time for forethought. It’s spontaneity, tempered with a trail of editing-brain looking over your shoulder.

Here’s a shortcut:

Improv

Creative 

Generative

Storytelling

In groups, community

Standing, active, moving

Too fast for Inner Critic

Spontaneous, improvised

Heart first, head second

Yes, and!

System 1 thinking, acceptance, openness

Writing

Creative

Generative

Storytelling

Alone, usually or at first

Sitting, still, thinking

Slow, ample time for Inner Critic

Pondering, planning, researching

Head first, heart second often

Yes, and how could this be better?

System 2 thinking, depth, critiquing

How are they different?
In improv, we operate from Daniel Kahneman’s System 1 thinking. We don’t ruminate, we don’t over-think, we just do the first things on our minds.

At least for me (and most of the professional writers I know), writing is so radically different. I can get in a groove or into flow sometimes, but generally, writing is a painful slog. Unless I’m on an extremely tight deadline (sometimes even those don’t help), I have the time to engage System 2 thinking. A lot. We have the time to ruminate and over-think. You know when you talk yourself out of the right answer on a test? That’s the pitfalls of System 2 thinking.

When I started creating the model for my Third Layer writing and creativity classes, I realized the most helpful ones I’d ever taken weren’t even writing classes. They were improv classes. I got a master’s degree in journalism from UC Berkeley and learned an absolute metric shit-ton about information, but I think my improv classes actually helped my writing even more. I say that I don’t teach writing as much as I teach how to get rid of the barriers that hold you back from creativity or writing, and that’s what improv did for me.

How do they relate to each other?

I like writing specifically because, for me, it engages more System 2 thinking. And I like improv specifically because it engages more System 1 thinking. When I moved to Chicago to study humor writing at Second City, I ended up not really enjoying the classes. If you want to kill my creativity, sit me in a chair and ask me to write something that will be heavily critiqued.

So I ditched humor writing and took a year’s worth of improv classes instead. I did stand-up comedy. I got out of my head, figured out what was important to me, and with that knowledge firmly established from improv, got back in my head and started to write what I really wanted to write.