In 2016, George R.R. Martin and Stephen King sat down at Kiva Auditorium for a chat. That night, they had a conversation that's really stuck with me. If you're not a fan of adult language, know the video and the following transcript have words.
A brief transcript of the moment in question:
Martin: How the fuck do you write so many books so fast? I think, "Oh, I've had a really good six months, I've finished three chapters." And you've finished three books in that time.
King: Here's the thing, okay? There are books, and there are books. The way that I work, I try to get out there and I try to get six pages a day. So, with a book like End of Watch, and ... when I'm working, I work every day-- three, four hours, and I try to get those six pages, and I try to get them fairly clean. So if the manuscript is, let's say, 360 pages long, that's basically two months work. ... But that's assuming it goes well.
Martin: And you hit six pages a day?
King: I usually do.
Martin: You don't ever have a day where you sit down there and it's like constipation? And you write a sentence and you hate the sentence, and you check your email and you wonder if you had any talent after all? And maybe you should have been a plumber? (Laughs) Don't you have days like that?
King: No. I mean, there's real life. I could be working away, and something comes up and you have to get up ... but mostly I try to get the six pages in.
Now, I'll never find it again, but I watched a YouTube video about this moment, and the creator broke it down to this:
Stephen King treats writing as a professional while George RR Martin treats it as an artist.
The YouTuber didn't mean either of those was a bad thing just as I think King tried to explain when he said "there are books, and there are books." King's whole goal is to produce products to sell. He's shipping out his craft as quickly and efficiently as he can while Martin views writing as an art. When you look at their works, it's comparing apples to sunflowers. Both are books, but one's body of work are books. Neither is better than the other because they serve different purposes in the creator's eye.
This brings me to THE PRACTICE by Seth Godin.
Now, I've only read about 25 pages, and I know absolutely nothing about Seth Godin, but I can tell you this book is hitting on a lot of things I feel about writing and creative pursuits in general.
It starts with the tagline.
"Do you trust yourself enough to ship creative work?"
At first, I railed against this because I'm not a warehouse shipping goods! I'm an artist! *insert affronted gasp here*
It's not about shipping a product for monetary value. It's not about end goals or milestones. It's about what Godin calls "the practice". He does it so much that it starts to feel a bit pyramid scheme like, but it's not. It's his way of reminding you again and again it's not about sitting down at the keyboard and waiting for the inspiration fairy to sprinkle little ideas and the urge to work into your head. It's about... well... the practice.
I really like Godin's idea that we shouldn't be looking for the output, the final goal, or the recognition of doing something creative. "The practice is the output, because the practice is all we can control."
Woof. I needed to hear that phrase because all of my creative pursuits and all of my anxieties have been about controlling every single step. From brainstorming to final draft, I want to control every word, every sentence, every moment. I want to control how people view my work and view me. This little phrase on the first page of the damn book said, "No, ma'am. You can't control anything but the work you do."
Godin goes on to suggest that we shouldn't focus on being perfect. We should focus on sitting down and working. Even if something isn't perfect or we don't know exactly how it will work, just sit down and try. Ship it out. When it doesn't quite work, come back and practice again.
A while ago, we had Lyssa Smith on for an episode of Basic Pitches, and she talked about intentional practice. The idea that she learns something new and intentionally works on it during the next revision or the next manuscript. And I think Godin would agree with this because in one section, he talks about juggling. He states that most people worry about catching when it's the least important step of all. Third grade Anna would stomp on his toe and throw her juggling scarves to the ground as she went to the bathroom crying. He suggests the most important step is learning to throw perfectly. Practice throwing a ball toward the other hand. Let it drop. Let it drop a hundred times. Now throw two balls. Toss/toss/drop/drop. When you're ready, put your other hand up. The ball will land in your hand.
It makes sense, especially if you've ever done anything requiring muscle memory. Your body will simply remember how much force to put behind the ball and where your other hand needs to be to catch it. "It's about throwing, not catching. Starting, not finishing. Improving, not being perfect."
Improving, not being perfect.
Improving, not being perfect.
That's the part I love. I can't control whether an agent will pick up my books. I can't control the market I'm writing in. I can't control how people perceive me or my work. I can control the work. I can control how I approach the work. As someone constantly anxious of the outcome, this has allowed me to breathe a deep sigh of relief. More importantly, it's motivated me to really believe in the motto "it doesn't have to be perfect, it just has to be." You cannot edit a blank page.
Do you have any favorite creative process or self-help books? I'd love to know because I'm super new to this genre, and I'm really enjoying it!
Until next time!
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