If we may borrow the word *subtext*¹ to refer to that constant or near-constant monologue that runs alongside or underneath your more conscious thoughts (if it does; I’m told not everyone experiences that), then “animate the subtext” is a writing thing you can do: Write down what the voice(s) is(are) say(s(ing)). Does this ever happen to you? Like, you’re reaching into the freezer to get some ice out of the bucket, when for no particular reason at all, a tiny little story erupts quietly in your mind, perhaps a little conversation, vivid but ephemeral, seemingly out of nowhere, a narrative apparition, as if you were unintentionally eavesdropping on another plane of existence? Then the freezer door snaps shut with a puff of vapor, and you’re left standing there with a cold hand and the echo of another lifetime rattling around like ice cubes falling out of the icemaker. Write those conversations down sometimes. My favorite time to do this is right after I wake up, before I’ve fully remembered how to think too much. You never know, any random one of them could be the start of a new [[poetry|poem]] or [[short fiction|story]], or maybe the satisfaction of conjuring and honoring a small living moment is its own reward. ---- ¹<small>because “animate the subtext” sounds more hinged than “animate the little brain people”</small>