It’s back! How to Write Complex Emotion

If you missed the last workshop, I’m teaching it again, this time for The Shipman Agency. I’d so love for you to join us!

I’ll be teaching methods for identifying and expressing the full range of human emotion.

You’ll learn how to drop into your body, explore your own somatic cues, and translate them into language that readers can feel. You’ll also learn how to create emotional atmosphere—not just in your characters, but in the space around them. By the end of this workshop, you’ll walk away with tools to elevate not only your writing, but your ability to communicate the complex, internal world we all share.

How to Influence Who You Become—Using Neuroscience

On my bedside table sits a handwritten reminder: The brain takes the shape of what the mind rests upon.

This principle, rooted in Buddhism, is also the foundation of neuroplasticity: our thoughts alter the physical structure of the brain.

Say what?

Yup.

What you think and do repeatedly can literally influence the physical structure of the brain. The brain you're born with continues changing throughout your life.

When you learn something new, neurons (brain cells) form new connections. In some brain regions, your brain may even create new neurons through a process called neurogenesis.

Remember Newton's third law of motion? For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction?

Your brain operates on a zero-sum budget. When you get obsessed with piano, it doesn't just build new networks for finger coordination and musical processing—it starts pulling resources from the motor skills you're neglecting. Those pathways get weaker while the piano ones get stronger.

Neuroplasticity is your brain's constant rewiring project. It's always forming new connections and adapting to whatever you're doing most—learning, practicing, even recovering from injury. But it aso adapts and strengthens connection to your most recycled thoughts.

The mechanics: Neurons communicate through synapses, and repeated activity strengthens these connections. Scientists call this Hebbian plasticity—"neurons that fire together, wire together." Every time you practice something, you're literally reinforcing those neural networks.

But there's a catch—brains are efficient, not ambitious. They follow established pathways and shut down the unused ones. Left to their own devices, they'll take the path of least resistance every time.

The upside? We can direct this process through our choices. What we practice and choose to believe is what gets consistently reinforced.

Once we understand how these systems work, we can deliberately guide them—to reinforce habits, gradually shift thought patterns, and influence aspects of our behavior and identity over time.

For instance, I've been consistently practicing good sleep hygiene while telling myself I'm an excellent sleeper. And surprisingly? It seems to be working.

Today, I'll share a handful of principles from neuroscience that can help us work with our brain's natural adaptability—and influence who we become.

1. Your Brain is a Validation Machine for Your Unconscious Beliefs (And Couldn't Care Less About Your Conscious Goals)

Meet your Reticular Activating System—the RAS. Think of it as your brain's overzealous personal assistant whose only job is proving you right about everything you already believe.

Not what you want to believe.

What you actually believe, deep down.

Your unconscious beliefs run the RAS, baby. They're like standing orders followed with fervent religiosity: "Show me evidence that I'm forgettable," "Highlight every rejection," "Make sure I notice all the ways I don't belong."

So if you've been unconsciously convinced that you're always excluded, your RAS becomes tuned in. It’ll catalog each unreturned text, every party you weren't invited to, every slight—real or imagined. Meanwhile, it's completely blind to the times you were included because that doesn't match the brief.

Your conscious goals? Your RAS doesn't even know what those are.

Here's How to Work It:

First, realize your brain doesn't care if your beliefs are helpful or destructive. It just wants to be right. So we need to feed it different data.

Start collecting micro-evidence for what you actually want to believe. Want to feel capable? Document the tiny wins: you made your bed, remembered someone's birthday, figured out that annoying Excel formula. Your brain trusts evidence over affirmations.

Do this during dead time—walking, driving, waiting in line. Use those idle moments to actively hunt for proof of your new belief instead of letting your brain default to its old greatest hits playlist. It’s similar to looking for Glimmers.

The key is repetition. Beliefs don't change through understanding—they change through practice. You have to deliberately train your RAS to notice different things, over and over, until it becomes automatic.

Your brain will believe whatever you consistently show it. So start showing it what you want it to see.

2. Why You Shut Down Before You Even Begin

You think you're lazy because you fold before following through on going to the gym.

You think you're lazy because you turn on the TV instead of working on your novel.

This isn't laziness. It's your habenula.

The habenula is your brain's "anti-reward" center—a tiny cluster of neurons that acts like an overprotective parent, shutting down motivation before you even start. Its job is simple: scan for potential failure and shut you down before you experience disappointment. It's not malicious—it's trying to protect you from emotional pain. But it operates on the premise that avoiding failure is more important than achieving success.

The kicker? It doesn't shut you down after you fail. It shuts you down before you even try.

This is why you don't apply for the job you actually want. Why you delay pitching your project. Why you don't respond to the email. It's not that you don't care. It's that your brain is trying to protect you from future embarrassment by quitting early.

What an absolute asshole.

How to Deal With This

The habenula feeds on vague dread. Specific predictions rob it of its mysterious power and move the threat from "emotional" to "practical"—something you can actually address.

So get specific: "I'm afraid they'll reject my project." "I worry they'll ignore me."

Don't Start.

The habenula triggers on "starting" but not on "continuing." So instead of prepping to "start," prep to continue. You don't want to start writing a novel. You want to continue writing your novel (yes, even if you haven’t “started”).

Since the habenula is obsessed with preventing failure, plan for it explicitly.

Before doing anything, ask and answer:

• "What's the worst realistic outcome?"

• "How would I handle that?"

• "What would I learn if this doesn't go perfectly?"

• "How can I make this easily recoverable?"

Example failure plan: "If my presentation goes badly, I'll learn what doesn't work, thank people for their feedback, and use this information to improve next time. The worst case is temporary embarrassment, which I've survived before."

Dopamine quiets the habenula, so feed it small micro-doses. Take lots of small actions: make your bed, write the subject line of the email, put out your clothes for the gym, pull out the research folder to look through later.

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