You sit yourself down with pad and paper, and begin to write.
"It was a dark and stormy night."
Or was it? Of the night of your birth, you were just a little baby. You can't be expected to remember these kinds of details. No matter -- artistic licence.
"It was a dark and stormy night. A child came into the world, screaming."
Here it comes again. Just seeing the word "screaming" is enough to send you into a screaming fit again. Only now, of course, you're all screamed out -- your mouth is open, air rushing out of your lungs, and there's no sound whatsoever.
Neighbourhood dogs start barking. That's it! You've been screaming at so high a pitch, you're no longer audible by humans.
Gosh, this is fun!
You keep screaming in some unknown register. Forget the novel -- let's go drive some dogs nuts!
You get up, head out the kitchen door, and into the great, wide world. Where should you begin to torture dogs with your screams?