Group brainstorming sessions can be effective forums for finding solutions to a problem or thinking of new approaches to a task. You have people with varying backgrounds and attitudes that will all think of different things, and when you collectively sift out the less effective ideas and further discuss the good ones, you’ll generally arrive at a solution that is beneficial for all concerned.

However, what can you do when you don’t have access to a group or you’re brainstorming about something personal?

I have found that holding a written conversation with myself helps me brainstorm effectively. I’m not talking about jotting down some bullet points on a whiteboard. I’m talking about a full-on conversation, an exchange that stands with one foot in monologue and the other in dialogue.

I: The Process

It begins with grabbing a piece of paper and pen and providing myself a written statement of the problem: “I need a better way to illustrate the relationship between these terms that are important to understanding our software application.” Of course, you can instead open your word processor and write there instead. Next, if necessary, I elaborate on the problem. Then I mention things I’ve already considered and why I think they aren’t such good options: “The existing illustration is confusing. There are too many blocks and too many arrows. The text has to be crammed into small spaces.”

Then I start brainstorming. The cardinal rule of brainstorming applies—no idea should be rejected outright. I discuss some ideas with myself, including pros and cons: “It would probably be better to break this diagram out into smaller, more focused illustrations. That may cause the user to have to scroll more (in an online format) or turn across pages (in a print format). But each diagram will be more focused. Instead of trying to illustrate the relationships between all of these terms at once, I should illustrate pairs of terms first, then work up to a larger diagram that shows everything at a high level. Then I won’t have to cram all the text and boxes into one image.”

I can write until either I’m completely out of ideas or I hit upon an idea that jumps out at me as an effective option.

II: The Benefits

The first time you try this, it may seem a little silly. I mean, you are talking to yourself, just not out loud. However, after some practice, this turns out to be an effective personal brainstorming technique. I see two main benefits of the written brainstorming monologue.

First, the writing provides focus. It gives you a place to center your attention. Trying to think without such a focus is asking for distraction. I have tried to brainstorm, even with pen in hand, while chasing my thoughts and waiting for a good one to run by. My eyes roam, and my ears pick up random conversations, and then I mentally participate (”I could probably give that guy some advice on… wait—I’m supposed to be concentrating on this!”) It’s difficult to keep my thoughts on the task at hand. Even a quiet room gives ample opportunity for unrestrained musings.

Writing down my thoughts, letting the writing drive my thoughts, keeps me in the brainstorming session. It makes concentration easier. It prevents background noise from intruding, and that’s the kind of writer’s block I can get used to.

Second, you have a ready record of your ideas and conclusions. You don’t have to copy the whiteboard to a sheet of paper or take a picture of it with your camera phone. Instead, you can simply refer to your monologue as you implement your ideas, or it should take a matter of minutes to transfer the most important ideas to a document on your computer. If your personal conversation took place in your word processing program, you’re all set.

Granted, I felt a little silly when I first thought of doing this and gave it a try. But the results have been positive. I think personal, written brainstorming is very similar to journal writing, where the purpose of writing is to explore thoughts and come to conclusions about things that have occurred in life.

Perhaps this technique quickly became comfortable also because I’m not above talking to myself from time to time. A written monologue averts the question of who’s more disturbed: the guy talking to himself or those who overhear him. At least if it’s only on paper, no one really knows but the silent conversationalist.