science fiction author, beatmaker, against fascism

Category: Writing Page 16 of 19

Radical Responsibility and the Creative Process

I'm starting a new company called "BoozeSnap."

I’m starting a new company called “BoozeSnap.”

Yesterday morning I showed up at my writing desk not quite ready to work. I was in a foul mood, a little tired and lazy, and feeling distracted. Not just feeling distracted but actively looking for distractions (which, on the internet, are not hard to find).

After an hour or two of wasting time and wallowing in my bad mood, I figured out (for the eleven-hundredth time) that I had nobody to blame for my mental state but myself. I could have said no thank you to the 18-year-old Lagavulin my friend brought back from Scotland and poured freely at the D&D game. I could have attended one decadent social event instead of two. I could have eaten better, exercised more, and gone to bed earlier.

Radical Responsibility is a form of self-empowerment. To me the phrase means looking for solutions and possibilities instead of excuses, and never passing the buck. It means being ready, brave, and confident. It means exercising my free will (and rejecting fate, powerlessness, and inertia).

Of course, having an ideal and living an ideal are not the same. But the point of having an ideal is to stop pounding your head against the wall before you hurt yourself.

So … I acknowledged to myself and my family that I was in a terrible head-space (I had kind of been taking it out on them up to that point). I sat down and meditated for five minutes. I turned off the wifi on my laptop, opened my working document, reviewed my notes, started writing, and kept writing until I had met my daily quota.

Immediately my mood lifted. I read the work and felt excited by it. 27 days in a row working on my current novel (“don’t break the chain” in full effect). There’s no better reminder that emotions don’t have to control you than pushing through and doing the work anyway.

But There’s a Better Way …

Ideally, I shouldn’t have to expend so much willpower to get rolling. I wasn’t ready but I could have been ready. Artists can choose to be ready physically by being reasonably rested and fed (but not overfed — less is usually more when it comes to food and creative productivity). We can be ready emotionally by not getting entangled in other people’s drama (Polish saying: “not my circus, not my monkeys”), by avoiding disputes and the need to always be right. We can be ready with an abundance of ideas by paying attention to the subconscious mind, by meditating, and by consuming brilliant work by artists we admire. If depression is holding us back we can do something about it. If we don’t have enough time or a fancy working space we can fit in bits of work here and there; we can create a distraction-free zone in some little nook.

We could make an excuse for not being ready, but do we want to? Why not just be ready when it’s time to work?

The Perfect Excuse Guy

When I was in my early twenties I had a shitty temp job at a warehouse packing boxes. I also had a few techno and house tracks signed and published (one with a major label) and I was working on music about twenty hours a week. There was a guy at the warehouse, probably in his thirties, who was interested in electronic music and frequently asked me questions about how to get into it. I told him my story: I had saved up money to buy a keyboard, figured out how to plug it into my computer, taught myself MIDI sequencing, sent demos to labels, and so forth.

Anything I told this guy, he had a perfect answer for why he couldn’t do it himself. A keyboard was too expensive (I had saved over a year before buying mine). He didn’t have time because of his job (I was currently working the same job and producing music nights and weekends). I would try to explain to him how he could get around the obstacles he was setting up for himself, but he always had an answer ready. I would give up trying to convince him, but then he would start asking me about music production again. He clearly wanted to get into it himself. He wanted me to talk him into it! I tried, but the excuse part of his mind always won out, and finally I just refused to talk about making beats with that guy.

A different guy from the warehouse was a DJ. He heard I was producing tracks and asked if he could come over and check out my home studio. I said yes and we had a great production session — we exchanged quite a bit of knowledge in just a few hours. It didn’t turn into an official collaboration, but it left me wondering why the first guy never asked to check out my studio and see what it was all about (I had done the same thing with Josh Davis aka DJ Shadow a few years earlier when we both worked at Steve’s Pizza in Davis, California — Josh showed me his four-track + turntables recording setup which was an eye-opener for me at the time in terms of ways to make music).

I want to be the opposite of the Perfect Excuse Guy. I want to be able to produce and create even when I have shitty tools, no time, not enough money, no great ideas, inadequate skills, and a lack of natural genius. Because I just jump in and start. And then keep going. And then get better. And then keep going. That’s the guy I want to be, forever, no matter the field or the game.

So what’s your story? Are you ready to be radically responsible for your own mental state and creative output?

Daily Writing — Track Your Progress!

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“What gets measured gets managed.” – Peter Drucker

About eight months ago I started using a writing log to track my daily work. The practice has been so successful that I feel compelled to share an update, even though I have already written about this topic in an earlier post.

The basic practice is this: in a spreadsheet or text document or a notebook, track your daily writing progress. As a minimum include date and word count (or number of pages if you prefer). I also include start time, stop time, and few other details. The exact details aren’t important; the key thing is keeping a written account of your work.

It occurred to me at some point that writing (and other creative work) was one of the few life areas where I wasn’t keeping daily notes. I was tracking my work hours on client projects (I’m a freelancer, so I have to track time if I want to get paid). I was also tracking my weight, mood, exercise, and various aspects of my health. But I wasn’t tracking my creative work! I wasn’t exactly “waiting for inspiration” — I was still attempting a daily writing habit. But tracking the details dramatically improved my output and quality.

Getting Started, The Ritual

The transition from “lazy brain” (reading, internet surfing, working on easy tasks) to “power brain” (solving difficult problems, almost any type of rigorous creative work, doing anything that involves active learning) is difficult. The brain wants to conserve energy. A work ritual can help with this transition. My own ritual includes:

  • get rid of distractions (work alone, turn off wi-fi and phone)
  • set session goal and estimate time (what do I want to get done and how long do I think it will take?)
  • appeal to subconscious/Other/The Muse (acknowledge that my conscious mind is not fully in control of the creative process)
  • physical stimulants (black coffee, brief bouts of intense exercise to generate lactic acid, the ultimate brain fuel)
  • record-keeping (entry in the writing log, backing up work after session)

I would love to tell you that I’m merrily working away at 6am every morning. The truth is uglier. I get up at 7, get the kid ready for school and out the door, clean up the kitchen, read email, drink some coffee, take a shower, look at reddit, read the New York Times online, drink some more coffee, look at Facebook, take my laptop out to my studio, check my calender, check email again, listen to demos for Loöq Records, maybe master a track or two or work on some album art. Then maybe I’ll get started on writing. Or maybe I’ll procrastinate some more! 10:30am is often when I actually get started, though there’s nothing in my schedule preventing me from starting at 8:45 sharp. I try to avoid the self-loathing that might go along with the procrastination. I get started when I get started. Writing requires concentration, and I can’t blame my brain for trying to conserve energy. Looking at the log is encouraging: a long list of days where I actually worked. Don’t break the chain, says Jerry Seinfeld. Even if you take weekends off, and occasionally take a vacation, having a system that generates steady progress beats waiting for inspiration. Working on average less than two hours a day, I’m on track to complete a 100K word novel a year (including multiple revisions).

Sidebar: Writing As A Career

Writing, like music production, is a long tail career. A very small percentage of writers earn the vast majority of royalties (or, in the case of self-published authors, direct income from book sales). The GINI coefficient (a measure of income inequality) among writers is over .70. This makes the United States (with a very high GINI coefficient of .41) look like a socialist utopia! Here’s a graph of writing income among authors. The majority of authors make less than $1000 a year, and the vast majority (even including only those authors who have been traditionally published) make less than $30K/year. Definitely not enough to live comfortably in the Bay Area.

In January of 2013 I made a 5-year commitment to becoming a novelist. Looking at the graph above, I can see that even if I’m successful (published, good sales), I still may not be able to support myself via writing income. This doesn’t dissuade me. My main motivation is wanting to contribute to the world of ideas, to envision and describe possible and fantastic scenarios for the future of humanity.

So wish me luck — I’ll need your support. And good luck to you in your own creative endeavors.

Is Grandiosity a Prerequisite for Greatness?

Young Franzen's grandiosity turned out to be predictive.

Young Franzen’s grandiosity turned out to be predictive.

Just a quick shower thought this morning, something that occurred to me while thinking about Jonathan Franzen’s article/excerpt from The Kraus Project (about Austrian satirist Karl Kraus):

But Kraus had changed me. When I gave up on short stories and returned to my novel, I was mindful of his moral fervour, his satirical rage, his hatred of the media, his preoccupation with apocalypse, and his boldness as a sentence-writer. I wanted to expose America’s contradictions the way he’d exposed Austria’s, and I wanted to do it via the novel, the popular genre that Kraus had disdained but I did not. I still hoped to finish my Kraus project, too, after my novel had made me famous and a millionaire.

What struck me about the passage was Franzen’s confession of grandiosity as a young writer. In Franzen’s case his younger self’s grandiosity turned out to be predictive, but obviously there are far more grandiose young writers who do not become rich and famous (or even moderately successful). So what’s the relationship between grandiosity and greatness? None at all?

I’m trying this hypothesis on for size: grandiosity is a prerequisite for greatness.

Obviously there are many prerequisites for achieving anything even remotely great (as measured by popular appeal, universal appeal across cultures and generations, influence on thinking and the direction of a field, pleasing critics — however you want to define the term). Most would agree that some degree of natural talent is required, as is a cultural context of support (encouraging parents, mentors, access to equipment/gear/materials/information), a diligent work ethic, perseverance, and of course luck. I’d argue that grandiosity is an additional prerequisite, just as important as the others. Grandiosity is simply the conviction that you might be able to achieve something great before you have actually done so.

Is grandiosity only the expression of such a conviction? I don’t think so. If the conviction exists without being expressed, it’s simply silent grandiosity (the best kind). The strong ego is still there. Ego in this case is a good thing, a strong sense of I does not necessarily make someone egotistical. Without a strong ego, without the conviction that the work might lead to something worthy, there’s not chance of greatness. Instead the result is no work at all, or dabbling, or unambitious projects. Thinking small.

What about the artist/creator who sees themselves as a channel for some higher force? “I just get out of the way and the art flows through me.” Fine — whatever works — but the strong ego is still there (in the channeler/conduit role, if not originator).

So how should a person deal with these feelings, the conviction that something great might be achieved, with enough sweat equity? Here’s my take on it:

  • Keep the feeling to yourself. Don’t talk about what you plan to do, refer to only what you have done (and then only when asked).
  • Be in on the joke. The odds are against you. You’re probably wrong. Most people don’t achieve anything great. So what?
  • Focus on the things you can control. You can’t control your natural talent or your cultural background. You can control what you focus on (choose an area where you have some talent!), your practice/work habits, your perseverance, and your internal convictions.

The paradox is that the ego actually gets in the way when you’re doing the work. For creative work you need to be in touch with the subconscious and perceptual and empathic parts of the brain (at least in order to create anything interesting). Thinking about achievement and goals and how the work will be judged is a terrible distraction. But the ego plays a role in organizing and allocating the resources that allow the work to happen and continue (time, money, career), and the ego needs the promise of rewards. Without the conviction that there are rewards to be had (grandiosity), the ego might shut down the work.

The key thing to remember? Without a little grandiosity (hopefully not the obnoxious kind), there is 0% chance of achieving anything great. So cherish your illusions/delusions of grandeur. And keep working.

One Goal To Rule Them All

Apologies to Tolkien.

Apologies to Tolkien.

For the last fourteen months I’ve been practicing a new form of goal setting:

  1. Have only one goal at a time, that closely aligns with life purpose.
  2. Set an “evaluation date” for the goal (a deadline, more or less).
  3. Set up a reward for completing the goal, and a “kick-in-the-butt” motivator if needed.

My most recent goal was to finish the first draft of my sci-fi novel. I didn’t finish by my evaluation date (June 30th) which led to a kick-in-butt motivator of no alcohol until the draft was complete. (I did finally finish. Kia read it in two days; at least for one person the book is a page turner.)

I’ve refined the one-goal system considerably since I’ve started, so I thought it might be a good time to share my mistakes, missteps, and adjustments along the way (including how my goal-setting led to a mid-life crisis).

Keeping a Daily Writing Log

Picture unrelated to post (except in a feeling kind of way) ... mostly I'm just into the photography of Luis Hernandez right now.

Picture unrelated to post (except in a feeling kind of way) … mostly I’m just into the photography of Luis Hernandez right now.

Recently I read two posts that approach the same problem from different directions; how do you get to a different place in your career (or develop a new career) when you are far away from your goal? Pavlina talks about the cumulative effects of daily habits, while Newport talks about the false narrative of courage in relation to career changes (hard work, persistence, and planning are more relevant).

With the same topic in mind, I’d like to share the initial results of a new habit of my own,  keeping a daily writing log (inspired by Phil Jourdan).

Page 16 of 19

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