Below is the transcript for Season 1, Episode 118 of Freely Written, a podcast by author Susan Quilty:
Welcome to Freely Written where a simple prompt leads to a little unplanned fiction.
[Light piano music]
Hi, friends! I’m Susan Quilty and today’s prompt is Think Tank.
When I was young, my mom used to say I should be put to work in a think tank someday. Try telling that to an imaginative child. No matter how she explained what she meant, I could never entirely shake the image of being locked in a plexiglass tank with wires pulling ideas from my brain. I was telling Peter that story and he said, “There’s your next writing prompt!”
As a prompt, think tank, seems promising. Yet, I’m not sure I can veer the story away from that childhood vision of being hooked up to a thought-milking machine. Maybe that’s okay. Maybe I’ll run with that idea and see where it leads. Or maybe something entirely new will come to mind once I actually start typing.
That’s how my podcast process works: I sit down with a prompt and write whatever comes to mind, with no planning and very little editing. Then, I record the story and share it with you. There are no rules when it comes to genre or style, though I do try to keep these stories relatively family friendly. The goal is to let my imagination roam, which can be both challenging and freeing.
Freeing for the obvious reason of having no rules; challenging because it can be scary to write without structure, hoping some kind of story emerges. That is definitely not the way I write my novels.
For a novel, I spend weeks, months, or years mulling every detail, then plan an outline before I write even one chapter. Whatever I write is then edited, reviewed, and rewritten countless times before the book is published. If you’d like to check out my novels, visit my website: SusanQuilty.com or look me up—Susan Quilty—wherever you buy books. There are also links in the show notes.
But first, let’s get back to today’s story:
Think Tank
Dina expected to enter a sterile room with rows of high-backed chairs, each topped with wires that would connect minds to banks of adjacent computers. She knew that wasn’t what she would see, but the image was there. A childish idea spawned from the first time she’d heard the term think tank.
Instead, Dina opened the door on a set of tables grouped loosely together. A shared workspace configuration thought to promote synergy and increase the bandwidth of a group dynamic. Or something like that. Dina was rarely up on the latest corporate buzzwords.
Whatever management’s plan, the room’s layout had shifted organically over the last six weeks. Tables were pushed closer together or farther apart to accommodate the ad hoc groupings that would emerge with each new idea. Even as pairs or trios ran with their separate leads, the tables stayed close enough for easy communication among the whole 12-person team.
Smart boards lining two walls allowed space for charts, diagrams, and lists. A large screen on a third wall stood ready for screen sharing, slideshows, and other presentations. The fourth wall held the door and four fake windows. Realistic displays that could give the impression of looking out at a cityscape, a forest, a lakeside, or whatever setting the group might choose. Often, the windows were set to a barren planet much like the red surface of Mars.
Dina found the windows jarring when first entering the room, knowing that she’d just come through a nondescript hallway in a sprawling office campus. Yet, once she was immersed in their work, her brain soon accepted the view as a plausible setting.
It helped that there was no reason to leave their team workspace once she’d arrived for the day. A narrow hallway between two of the smartboards led to a break room with more synced windows and a short-order kitchen. The team could stop at any time for meals or snacks without straying too far from their worktables. Across the hall, bathrooms accommodated their other bodily needs.
A door between the other two smartboards opened to a dormitory where curtained bays held single beds and small dressers. The sleeping areas were provided for anyone who wanted to nap without going home—a choice that was made more often than an outsider might expect, especially when the team was close to a breakthrough.
As Dina settled in at her customary table, her eyes drifted over the words written above of one of the smartboards: Thinking today for a thoughtful tomorrow. Six weeks into the project and they hadn’t been given much direction beyond those words.
Looking at the rest of her team, Dina considered their areas of expertise. There were medical researchers, climate scientists, economists, civil engineers, and psychologists. Her own degrees were in sociology and nature conservancy. Together, they covered a wide range of knowledge, and they enjoyed discussing innovations that could lead to a brighter future. Yet, no one had been told the scope of their project or how their ideas might be used outside of this room.
They had simply been hired to work on a secret project. One that required a high-level clearance and a strict nondisclosure agreement. They were then brought to this workspace and shown those words: Thinking today for a thoughtful tomorrow.
Dr. Barton, the liaison who had gotten them started that first day, had told them that they all had been selected for their ability to think clearly about the problems of today and the solutions that might be implemented if money and resources were no issue.
There had been questions that first morning. Everyone looking for their limitations and goals. But Dr. Barton had waved those concerns away, saying, “This is a place without limits. A place of free thought where we simply want to consider all the possibilities. What would you do if you could do anything at all to change our society for the better?”
They were then left to their own imaginations. Discussions had quickly spread through the room. Identifying problems led to creating solutions. Wild solutions. The kind of solutions that no one expected to ever be implemented. Yet, at the end of that first day, Dr. Barton had returned to praise their wonderful start.
As the weeks passed, the team had stopped waiting for Dr. Barton to curtail any of their ideas. They formed small groups, pairs and trios, to work on their special projects. When they entered this workspace, no ideas seemed too far-fetched. When a wild suggestion came up, the others merely paused to think about the possibilities. No one said, that will never happen. Instead, they said, how could that happen? And then worked out a path forward.
It wasn’t a complete free-for-all. The team had an innate sense of professionalism and plausibility that kept them within the bounds of reality. Occasionally, someone would make a joke about paving the streets with gumdrops or bioengineering pet unicorns. The others would laugh and move on. Or, sometimes, the jokes would lead to a more realistic suggestion, like a new form of solar powered pavement.
Today, Dina paused in front of her computer and pondered a different question. With shaking fingers, she opened the team’s group chat and typed: Why were we hired to create these ideas?
She hesitated, rereading the words before pressing enter. She didn’t know if this was a question she should be asking, but they had been told there were no limits to their discussions.
As her question popped up on screens around the room, the rest of the team gradually looked her way. There was a shift in the air. A stillness that broke the usual rhythm.
Dina brought her hands to her keyboard and typed another question: What if these ideas aren’t for the betterment of society?
Eyes darted around the room. Sensing danger in sharing aloud, one of the economists typed back: Ideas are powerful. Patents?
Politics? One of the civil engineers typed back, adding: Promises that will capture the public’s imagination and support?
Or opposition? One of the psychologists added ominously before explaining: These are expensive, outlandish ideas. Maybe something to leak as a potential waste of taxpayers’ money?
Whispers broke out among those who sat in tighter groups. Thoughts now shifting down dark, twisting paths. Dina rested her hands in her lap and turned to look at the not-so-hidden camera mounted in a high corner of the room.
Within minutes, the door opened, and Dr. Barton walked in. Conversation came to a guilty halt and several hands reached to quickly close their chat screens.
“How are we doing today?” Dr. Barton asked calmly, then nodded at the indistinct murmurs that rippled through the room.
Dr. Barton turned to the sign above the smartboards and read out loud, “Thinking today for a thoughtful tomorrow. That’s a lovely idea, isn’t it? The thought that ideas spawned in this room could improve the world for generations to come.”
An uncomfortable silence followed. Dina looked around and found that everyone was pointedly avoiding her gaze.
“We wouldn’t want to get distracted from that lovely idea, would we?” Dr. Barton’s concern elicited apologetic agreement. “Remember, we have created this space—this freedom—for you to create with abandon. Fears and doubts stifle creativity, so let’s stay focused on the good we can see in the world. Okay?”
One by one, the researchers nodded or voiced agreement.
Dr. Barton smiled at them all, then turned to Dina, saying, “Could we speak privately for a moment?”
Dina nodded, feeling the stares as she got to her feet and followed Dr. Barton out the door. Her steps wobbled slightly, and she blinked rapidly as she walked, as if steadying herself physically and mentally.
In the hallway, with the door closed, Dina dropped the act and released a nervous sigh.
“That was easy,” she told Dr. Barton, who smiled in return. Dina didn’t quite understand her role in this experiment, but she felt she had done well in her first attempt at sowing concern among her teammates.
“You did very well,” Dr. Barton told her. “Now, when they ask about our private conversation, you’ll have to be evasive. Tell them I simply asked if you were happy here. Don’t encourage their concerns or be too reassuring. Let them think whatever they’d like, and I’ll let you know when we have another assignment for you.”
Dina agreed and straightened her sweater before turning back to the door. She didn’t know why she was here—or why any of them were here—but she had been singled out, and she liked feeling special.
Dr. Barton watched her walk back into the room and grinned, ready to see how today’s thoughts would play out tomorrow.
The End
Thank you for joining me today. That story took an unexpected twist. Who is Dr. Barton? Why was this think tank assembled? I don’t know, but I kind of want to explore this idea more. Did today’s writing prompt spark your imagination? Try freewriting a story of your own and let me know how it goes. You can reach me through social media or my website: SusanQuilty.com.
Until next time, try a little free writing of your own. Let go of any planning and see where your imagination takes you.
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