Overthinking is the art of creating problems that weren’t even there. ~Anonymous
That was certainly not the case in my high school English class. Not for me; not one of my teachers ever accused me of overthinking anything. That, and I was always dead last when it came to figuring out the hidden meanings in The Rime of the Ancient Mariner and The Odyssey. I can see why teachers find joy in pointing out the obscure to unsuspecting readers. I honed that skill while teaching insurance forms, but should the ability to see an underlying message permeate and corrupt an adult’s leisure reading in perpetuity?
Allow me to illustrate, using a recent read, Fill, as an example.
Case in point - the story of QAI
Fill is a hot-off-the-press story about a young boy with a superpower. I won’t plant any spoilers, but I will share some questions I have. If you don’t want to have my thoughts during your reading, you might want to read “Fill” before you read the rest of this section. Your call.
- Is the author judging the parents for their initial position?
- Would Qai have evolved any differently if they had been supportive?
- Is Matty’s name for Qai a play on a well-known proper name?
- Is the author telling the reader to take charge of his/her own life?
While it is true that I earned my level of cynicism and inability to take much at face value, it is also true that this is a kid’s story. And yet. I’m reading it like it’s Canterbury Tales, shoveling for all I’m worth to uncover historical insight.
You can order “Fill” on Amazon and follow the author at https://www.emdasche.com/.
And is there science related to this?
Just when I thought I’d become enured to the need to label every behavior, I learn otherwise. Apophenia, according to Merriam-Webster, is a human’s natural tendency to see connections and patterns where there may actually be none at all. Pareidolia, on the other hand, is the ability to see shapes and make pictures out of randomness. You know, like we did when we found clouds with animal shapes.
Why do I mention this? Perhaps as an excuse for myself when I get too far into the weeds on a topic. But more than that, until I took a look at my tendency to insert sometimes-unintended meanings, I didn’t realize it as a common human trait. According to Psych Central, it dates back to early development when making these connections (hearing the rustle of grass) suggested the approach of a predator. Can’t fault that.
Neither tendency mentioned above is necessarily a problem–only when taken to extremes, as with so many habits.
But don't we always fill in our own blanks?
Of course, we draw our conclusions based on personal experiences. But perhaps we need to let some old habits go, as I mentioned in a post on rituals back in 2022. It isn’t as though we’re expecting a cheetah to launch out of the prairie grass in our front yard, bite hard, and leave a mark. When we’re reading and digesting the written word, we have the luxury of sitting tight and considering the context. There’s plenty of time to fly off the handle (internally) if our darkest suspicions prove to be true.
Relish the story. Bask in the storyline options your brain hands you. But remember that sometimes the story is just that. A story. The only way you’ll be able to accurately interpret the narrative is to get inside the author’s brain, and trust me when I tell you that can be a messy place.
All that to say, it isn't just about the meaning of a story
As imperfect humans, we do not always consider–or correctly interpret–contextual clues. This isn’t a huge problem (other than a potential waste of time) when we’re reading. However, when the inclination is unchecked in conversations, whether live or electronic, it can lead to drawing conclusions that were never intended to be drawn. While there’s a small chance that whoever is talking deserves your disdain, there’s a much greater chance that the speaker hasn’t yet framed the message effectively. Not everyone can speak compellingly off the cuff. Also, not everyone has a sense of urgency pushing them to cut to the chase. We all tell our stories in our own way, on our own schedule, as frustrating as that might be to listeners.
Maybe waiting for the rest of the story is a better use of time–and less tiring than jumping to conclusions.
So true. I do the same thing. I struggle to determine what subplots to include in my next book because I want the whole book to have clear ties and logic…even though the book will be based on an illogical and true life!
May your New Year be filled with a pleasant new chapter of your life. Not to analyze and to dissect, just to enjoy!
That’s a big wish for me, too. 😉 Looking forward to reading your next book.
Words are untrustworthy. Stay with numbers.
Perhaps. But numbers can be manipulated, too. Ask any actuary.