Why Brainstorming Fails Writers
A Better Way to Develop Your Novel
Ever since I was an elementary school teacher, I’ve been a proponent of brainstorming as a way to develop writing ideas. I have been a fan of all the various types (webs, sticky notes, charts, free-writing, etc.) of brainstorming since, essentially, it involves thinking about the idea and its possibilities–during this process, no idea is a bad idea. And how can that be wrong? But what if the very process we rely on to spark innovation is, in fact, stifling it? For my next couple of posts, I will look at both why it’s not a helpful method for writers and why it is. I’m going to start with why it might not work well for writers.
The birth of brainstorming and the flawed promise
The concept of brainstorming was popularized in the 1940s by advertising executive Alex Osborn. His idea was simple: gather a group, suspend judgment, and let ideas flow freely. The belief was that collective, unfiltered thinking would yield more creative results than individuals working alone.
It sounded brilliant. Unfortunately, science has shown it doesn’t quite work that way (I’ll explain why later). But the deeper problem was that even if it did, brainstorming was designed for groups, not solo creators. Writers adopted it anyway, applying the same "no judgment, all ideas welcome" approach to early story development. On paper, it makes sense: unload everything in your head and sift for gold.
But the reality is messier. Many writers find that unstructured brainstorming leads to either idea overload or paralyzing self-doubt. Why?
Because writing isn’t about volume—it’s about clarity and connection.
Why brainstorming doesn’t work for writers
1. It Encourages Shallow Thinking
When you list ideas rapidly, you're often staying on the surface. You might come up with scenarios, characters, or conflicts, but you're not necessarily exploring why they matter or how they connect. Webs do help to make connections, but even here they are not expansive enough to help writers see the possibilities of a story. Great novels are built on depth, not fragments.
2. It Can Trigger Perfectionism
Ironically, the "no bad ideas" rule can backfire. Writers may still judge what comes up, especially if it doesn’t feel clever or original. When we first begin to brainstorm, most ideas will not be original. We will naturally gravitate to what has already been done and what we have read, causing frustration. On the opposite spectrum, once we run out of logical ideas, we come up with wild or unusable ideas. Sometimes, this is what we are aiming for—unique ideas, but those ideas are not always practical. Yes, the conflict can be that the hero has dinosaur genes and turns into a dinosaur when he gets angry (like the Hulk), but if I’m writing a spicy romance and that is my brand, I can’t really switch to a fantasy, otherworldly story that includes a T-Rex hero.
Brainstorming opens the door for self doubt and self-criticism—“This idea is stupid” or “This has been done before”—without offering a way to move beyond it.
3. It Separates the Writer from the Work
Brainstorming treats ideas as external, as if the answers are “out there” waiting to be captured. We sit with our fingers on the keyboard, waiting for brilliance to land on us. But strong stories don’t come from reaching outward; they come from digging inward—into your obsessions, your questions, your emotional truths.
4. It Skips the Story’s Foundation
This is the biggest issue: Brainstorming can generate characters, plot points, or scenes, but it rarely helps clarify your story’s why. Without a solid premise, theme, or core question, the ideas often feel disconnected—and lead to false starts or abandoned drafts.
You must understand what your story is about, the significant story question, and the central story question. Brainstorming random story “ideas” like I’m going to write about a thief who falls in love with a cop, then listing all the possible conflicts or plot points without first understanding the reason you want to tell this story to begin with will lead to a shallow, forgettable story.
What works better: thoughtful discovery
Before I begin to write, a story has been developing in my head, usually for months. I’ve been living with the characters and letting them become real. I’ve been questioning the purpose of this story and what it will say to the reader. What will the reader take away from my story?
Instead of brainstorming, consider the following deeper, more reflective strategies that align with how good stories actually take shape:
1. Ask the Hard Questions
Before you start outlining (something I do believe helps writers) or listing plot ideas, ask:
What kind of story do I feel called to tell?
What emotional truth am I exploring?
What do I want my reader to feel at the end?
These questions anchor your creativity in purpose.
2. Freewrite, Don’t Brainstorm
Rather than bullet points or webs, try writing paragraphs or even scenes. Let the voice, tone, and emotion come through. You’ll often discover more about your character or story by writing your way in than by making a list of possibilities.
I usually begin at the beginning. I will write that opening scene to get a feel of the story, my characters, and the structure of the novel.
My outline comes after I’ve written a chapter or two.
3. Use Constraints and Prompts
Paradoxically, limitations can spark more meaningful ideas than free-form thought. What does this mean? It means that you should take your characters and place them in specific situations they may or may not encounter in your story, and write the scene to see what happens and how they react. Try prompts like:
“Write a scene where your character fails at something important.”
“Describe the moment your character realizes they’re wrong.”
These invite narrative structure and emotional stakes, not just scattered ideas. While writing from your characters’ perspective, you also will better understand who they are and what they want.
4. Return, Reflect, Refine
Ideas need time to evolve. This is why I sit with an idea for so long before I begin to write a novel. Instead of trying to get everything out in one frenzied brainstorming session, give your story space.
Have you noticed that when you have an idea for a story, you begin to notice and get inspiration from other sources almost daily? You watch a movie, and a piece of dialogue reminds you of what your character should say in a scene. You see a person with a hairstyle that would look great on your heroine. You read a book with a similar theme to yours, and you come to understand your significant story question better. Giving your story time to grow and develop will help you create a better novel, than brainstorming a bunch of ideas on one day.
Notice things. Take notes. Revisit your notes days later with new questions. Good writing is recursive—it deepens with each return.
Why the science of brainstorming doesn’t work
If you’re wondering why science and research has determined that Osborn was wrong about brainstorming, even for groups, it’s because of these three problems:
1. Social loafing: In group settings, individuals tend to contribute less than they would alone—a phenomenon known as social loafing. The larger the group, the more people rely on others to carry the creative load.
2. Evaluation apprehension: Even if the rule is “no judgment,” people often hold back ideas they think might be criticized or sound foolish. We’re social creatures, and the fear of looking silly in front of peers—consciously or unconsciously—causes many to self-censor.
3. Production blocking: In a typical brainstorming session, only one person can speak at a time. This bottleneck prevents others from sharing their ideas when they’re fresh, and many of those ideas never resurface.
This means that even the original idea of brainstorming was not as enlightening as people expected, and what worked better was allowing people to think on their own, write down their ideas, then share them with a group later.
In the end, clarity beats chaos
Brainstorming may feel productive, but real story development requires more than noise—it requires meaning. As a writer, your goal isn’t just to generate ideas. It’s to make choices: about what your story is about, why it matters, and how to shape it so readers care.
So next time you’re ready to write a new novel, skip the storm of ideas. Sit quietly. Ask yourself what ideas you want to share with readers, what themes you want to explore, and what message you want to leave with the reader. Write a little. Reread. Reflect.
Because the story you’re looking for might not be hiding in a brainstorm—it’s probably been with you all along.