Three Ways to Make Resistance Irrelevant and Win the Struggle to Create and Market Your Art
You can read the blog in order, or refresh this page for three more articles about Resistance and writing and the struggle to create and market art.
Fair warning: if you are committed to the spontaneous pantsing version of writing, please don’t read this. You won’t benefit, I won’t benefit. If you’re open to having assumptions challenged, read on. To the end. Don’t read the first 80% and quit or you won’t get the point.
What is a House?
Though wildly different around the world, all houses share certain characteristics. Let’s explore the ins and outs.
- Roof — Without a covering, it’s a yard, not a house.
- Floor — It may be dirt, but it’s not water or air. If your residents are standing in a pool up to their waist, or swinging in hammocks 30′ aboveground, you’ve built something other than a house.
- Privacy — Roof but no walls = carport or equivalent.
- Toilet — Yes, in some parts of the world this is not inside the house. If you live in one of those places, you may dispute this requirement.
- Services — Electricity. Running water. Drains. See above note for quibbles.
- Egress — Without a door suitable for us humans to enter through, it’s not a house, it’s something else.
- Lighting — Even if it’s windows and skylights, there’s a way for light to come in.
You may dispute any of these if you choose to live in the house yourself.
If you plan to sell the house, or even sell time using the house (called “renting”) I defy you to leave any of these out and still succeed.
Biggest part of the business was sharpening clipper blades. Clippers have two blades sliding back and forth past each other so unlike knives, which need a beveled edge, clipper blades need to be flawlessly flat on their face, the surfaces where they meet.
When Mike first started training me, sometimes I’d ask him to check my edge. Are these sharp enough? Am I overdoing it, grinding too much metal away, shortening the life of the blade? Am I working fast enough?
Because he’s the closest friend I’ve had in my whole life, our conversations included a bunch of personal sharing you might not expect to find in a greasy hairy machine shop on a truck. Life, the universe, and everything — we covered it all.
In time, the phrase “check my edge” came to mean more than the mechanics of blade sharpening. I’m almost 20 years older than Mike. He grew up in the country, having adult responsibilities when he was quite young. We each had a vast storehouse of experience and knowledge the other didn’t. We shared. A lot.
When one of us asked the other, “Hey, check my edge?” it was about the value of another mind and heart, another set of life experiences, weighing in on a choice, a challenge.
I’ve often heard creative folks claim that producing art quickly or in bulk leads to lower quality.
It’s not true.
Creativity is like a muscle. Use it more, make it stronger.
Yes, muscles get tired. When’s the last time you spent so much time in creative pursuits that you were in any danger of creative burnout?
I just spent February writing 25 songs besides working on my novel and writing here and at my personal blog. Being more creative leads to being more creative. I’ll be physically exhausted long before I’m creatively exhausted.
Quality? Sure, some of the songs I wrote aren’t keepers. That’s the nature of the beast: not every song is. But when I write 14 songs in a month, 3 or 4 are excellent. When I write 25 songs in a month, 7 or 8 are excellent. Not only more excellence, but a slightly higher percentage.
I believe that if I wrote 100 songs next February, I’d create 20 or more that were as good as anything I’ve ever written.
Are You Not a Writer?
The first thing writers tell me when I say “blog weekly, two or three times if you can” is “I don’t know what to write about.”
You’re a writer, aren’t you? If the goal is to get people to part with their money for your writing, how about showing them, often, what you’re capable of?
Wrote a nonfiction book? Blog about all the stuff that didn’t make it into the book, about everything you’ve learned since it was finished.
Fiction author? Easy: make up new fiction. No, I didn’t say write a batch of deathless prose every day. Just write.
Blogging regularly is not that hard—you’re a writer.