Everybody Writes

I'm reading a terrific book right now called, Everybody Writes. The book is by content marketer, keynote speaker, and best-selling author Ann Hanley.

For anyone looking to write and potentially make a living out of it I can't recommend this book enough. 

Here are just a few quick tips on punching out what she calls, "The Ugly First Draft."

1. BARF IT UP

Jot down your key ideas as they come to you. No need to curate them or put them in any particular way when starting out. 

If you get stuck simply take some quick personal inventory. Do you need more examples, research, or is there another point that needs to be made?

Most importantly, keep the self-talk positive. Don't beat yourself up telling yourself you don't have the goods as a writer. 

Every writer struggles. As Hemingway once said, "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at the typewriter and bleed."

2. WALK AWAY

It's likely you'll first ugly draft won't exactly be Shakespearean. This may take a little bounce from your step, forcing you to already forget the remarkable accomplishment you've just made!

Take a breather. Walk away and focus on something else for a while. You'll be amazed by the clarity and perspective you come back with.

3. REWRITE

Nabokov once said, “I have rewritten — often several times — every word I have ever published. My pencils outlast their erasers.” 


Take the best parts of your first ugly draft and use them in your final product. Remember, writing is about the reader not indulging the writer.

Ultimately, our job is to be of service. We do that by having the courage to cut whatever isn't in harmony with that mission. 

Every Day Do One Thing for Your Art and One Thing for Your Business

I just finished a terrific online course taught by playwright, David Mamet. Mamet's prolific body of work includes plays like Glengarry Glen Ross, American Buffalo, Speed the Plow, and Race among many others.

I really appreciated Mamet's honesty and vulnerability when sharing lessons learned during his nearly 60-year career in show business. My favorite part of the series was when he discussed the importance of doing one thing a day for your art and one thing a day for your business. It's a poignant insight for those who want to make their living as a writer. 

His point is that you don't have to move mountains every day in either category. You just have to keep moving the needle along. If you're an actor for example, you can read a play, go exercise, support a friend in a reading. Just do something that keeps you in the game and moving forward.

The same goes for your business. Who can you reach out to today? Is it time for new headshots? Have you checked in with your manager recently? Whatever it is just be consistent in taking something type of action. 

In time, those little efforts compound and often lead to new opportunities.  

The Day I Stopped Thinking Vulnerability Was a Weakness

During my second year of grad school my classmates and I were each assigned Chekhov short stories to memorize and perform. Though I was well-versed in plays like, Three Sisters, Uncle Vanya, and the Cherry Orchard I didn't realize the writer and medical doctor had also compiled such a prolific list of short stories. In fact the piece I was assigned, In the Graveyard became, and remains, my favorite short story of all time. 

http://www.online-literature.com/anton_chekhov/1120/

For weeks before our performances I felt incredibly self-conscious about my progress as an actor. It seemed everyone in class was having these remarkable breakthroughs. Their diction had improved, they were more honest on stage, and the work more polished. What did everyone do over the summer? I thought. Just a few weeks before I'd prided myself on being the hardest working actor in school.

When it was finally my time to perform I did something I never do and haven't done this. I "phoned it in." I knew I had a few skills at my disposal and could make it look as though I was invested in the story. I even duped a few but not my mentor. After class she stopped me on the corner of 116th and Broadway and told me, "You were way out of line. I want to see you this evening." My heart sank. I'd not only let myself down but someone I really admired.

That evening in the basement of Schapiro Hall we worked on the piece for over an hour. She tried desperately to get me to understand the people in the story were living breathing human beings who faced insecurities, mortality, fear, and discomfort just like me. She stayed on me like a hawk until out of nowhere I broke down. "Do you want to continue?!" she asked. "Yes," I said. I finished the story when she pulled me aside. "That's what I was looking for. Now, do you see just how great you can be?"

I nodded my head and understood the work suffered because of my fear to be vulnerable. At 26 I thought it was a weakness. That evening I realized it was a strength -- that there's profound courage in being open.

Unfortunately, people, particularly men, are conditioned to believe it's a liability. But I've discovered not only does being vulnerable forge trust but it also gives other people solace, while empowering them to talk be more open about their own fears. When everything is laid out on the table a community of authenticity takes shape and remarkable things can begin to happen. 

Don't Call Your Ideas Stupid

In John Truby's book, The Anatomy of Story he encourages the writer to never criticize an idea no matter how outlandish or silly it might seem. 

Don't censor or judge yourself. Don't ever tell yourself that any idea you come up with is stupid. "Stupid" ideas often lead to creative breakthroughs."  

His point is you limit your potential when you stop yourself before you've truly begun. What you might find ludicrous could lead you to an idea that is bold and original. 

The more you tinker with different ideas, themes, and concepts the more you allow yourself to be taken to a place of remarkable possibility in your writing and beyond.

It's Not Your Problem

The world of an artist has long been associated with adversity. Ask any actor, writer, singer, painter, or dancer how they embellish their latest artistic endeavors to keep the patience of their parents at bay, and you are certain to get some creative stories. Let's face it, being an actor is hard. In addition to the struggles around finding work there is often the need to fend off not only your own doubts but the ones from friends and family who question the validity of your dreams. 

I recognize how fortunate I've been in cultivating a circle of friends who are wildly supportive. They recognize my victories and on occasion voice their admiration. It's not necessary but it' sure is nice to hear from time to time. 

Still, there is a small percentage of people in my life who simply don't get what I'm trying to do. Never have. Never will. Sitting in a cafe for an hour and half to work on a screenplay, or spending a few hours polishing a monologue in a drab black box theater doesn't make much sense to them. It can be hurtful because we naturally want the people closest to us to appreciate our passion - our calling.

But the older I get the more I've learned to lean on those who support and not share my dreams with those who don't. Admittedly, this can be a tricky balance since the latter can come in the form of dear friends, or even family. What I've learned is this:

-- No matter what you do with your life there will never be a consensus that it's time well spent. Even the most conventional paths have doubters as do the folks we associate most with fame, money, and success. We shouldn't judge what we don't understand, but we do. As a result, if you're around a community of people who critique for that reason it's time to find a new one.

-- Second, and most importantly, if someone doesn't appreciate or understand your need to write, paint, dance, act, sing, sculpt, or create IT'S NOT YOUR PROBLEM. It's not your job to be a molder of consensus but to be a master craftsman and share your gifts with those who appreciate them. Doing anything for validation is a no-win game. It's never-ending, unfulfilling, and impossible to sustain. 

Own YOUR path. 

Be selective with those you share your aspirations with. 

And remember, it's not you that's got the problem. 

What You Want Changes, and that's Okay

“To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.” Tennyson’s words are a perfect reminder of the need to constantly push ourselves beyond our comfort zone. The greater effort you put into honing your craftsmanship as an actor, entrepreneur, writer, parent, or artist of life (which we all are) the more you’ll recognize your strengths, weaknesses, and ever shifting goals. 

As a young actor barreling out of drama school I was willing to act anywhere. I performed more times than I can even remember in little black box theaters in the East Village, sometimes in front of just 5 or 10 people. And I was happy as a clam doing it. I learned so much about acting and built a community around my passion. 

Today, taking part in little staged readings and performing in off-off Broadway theaters is no longer in line with the long-term vision I have for myself. I’ve graduated to higher aspirations discovered while pushing myself. My goals have changed because I have. 

As a result, I have a better sense of what I want for my life, and equally important, what I don’t.  

Your Subconscious Knows

If there's one thing about pursuing a life in the arts it's that it's very easy to get discouraged. The lack of opportunities, the constant rejection, and the fierce competition can take start to really take it's toll. But through all of that adversity I've learned it's also crucial to have impeccable word - to speak consistent messages of self-empowerment. We can positive and optimistic, while still being grounded.

I've found when your words are not congruent to your actions it becomes very difficult to build serious momentum. You may really believe in your ability as a writer, actor, or dancer but if your inner monologue is not in harmony with those sentiments you have a problem. 

Though you may continue to work hard, diligently improve you craft, and continue auditioning, if you're saying things like, "No wonder I wasn't cast," or "My career is going nowhere," you won't be firing on all cylinders. 

Your subconscious somehow knows it's being duped. Try getting your mind and your actions in harmony and see what happens.

Steal from Life

German Writer Johann Wolfgang von Goethe once said, "We are shaped and fashioned by what we love." The trouble is many of us don't believe what we love would be very interesting to others. 

I remember taking an acting on camera class many years ago when the teacher made the observation many of the actors in the room were simply "doing too much." In his words, we had a hard time believing that we alone were enough. 

What he wanted us to understand was that everyone has something compelling to say or share. It's just a matter of trusting that our unique experiences and take on the world will resonate with others. 

If your voice is coming from an honest and genuine place, chances are, it will.

You Gotta Start Somewhere

One of the reasons people never begin a creative endeavor is because the distance between where they are and where they hope to be feels so daunting. What's helped me over the years see a project through from beginning to end is breaking it up into small stages, while trying to infuse a little bit of perspective into the overall goal.

Start small. Whether you're an actor, writer, singer, or visual artist begin by beginning. Set aside a specific time each day where you'll work on your craft, or build your project. It can even be 10 minutes a day until it becomes a discipline. From there you can slowly increase the amount of time you work until it accommodates your schedule and gradually moves the needle forward. Just make it a priority.

And that part about perspective? What's helped me is the realization that every project, whether the screenplay for a critically acclaimed film, or a best-selling novel began at a dimly lit kitchen table, or a noisy coffee shop, with a first word, a stroke of the brush - an idea.

 

Read Widely

By most accounts, I was a pretty good kid growing up. I never had much interest in getting into trouble, sparing my parents a headache or two.

This is not to say I was the perfect son by any stretch. One source of great anxiety for my mom and dad was my refusal to sit still and finish a book. I'd never seen my father come so close to weeping as he tried everything short of a seance to get me to fall in love with literature.

It took some time, but their efforts paid off. Books have become something I can't live without. They also played a very important role in making me a better actor.

By reading widely I was able to consider perspectives wildly different from my own. When taking on new projects, I began to think as a playwright, director, or producer might. Characters now leaped from the page becoming three-dimensional.

Discovering more about science, history, philosophy, and current events enabled me to connect a heightened sense of humanity to the plays and scripts I read. I began to rely less on just my technical training as an actor and get more in touch with what it really meant to be human.

Books pushed, stretched, and nudged me to think bigger.

They've served me well in my pursuit to become a great storyteller and beyond.

Why We Do What We Do

"Beautiful," she said. Years ago, when I was still a second year grad student, I went to see the Broadway production of, Frost/Nixon. The play starred Frank Langella as former U.S. President Richard Nixon and Michael Sheen as the English journalist, comedian, and writer.

I recall having great seats that afternoon a few rows left of the stage, but only a handful of seats from the action. "Student Rush" tickets were always a great alternative for the young people in and around the city who studied acting and wanted desperately to catch a show without paying premium prices. And depending on the popularity of the show, or length of the run, they were often not even available.

Still, they were great when you could get them even though one never had control over where those little stubs would take you. I once sat in the front row for a production of The Caine Mutiny and in the very last to catch Mark Rylance in Boeing Boeing. But today, I'd finally stumbled upon my Goldilocks moment. I was not too far or too close. My view was just perfect.

Perhaps more importantly, I thought the play was terrific. The story had a clear beginning, middle, and end, and not to mention a compelling cast. But the most notable event of that cold spring afternoon occurred during a monologue Frank Langella delivered toward the end of the play.

During the scene, Richard Nixon phones David Frost after having perhaps a drink too many and launches into a tirade that reveals the 37th president's masked insecurities and vulnerabilities. "No matter how high we get they still look down on us...We still feel like a little man, a loser...We're gonna show those bums, we're gonna make em' choke!"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pT9GPloXjA8

When Frank Langella finished his monologue you could hear a pin drop in that old theater. And just as the next scene was set to begin I heard an elderly woman sitting directly in front of me whisper under her breath, "Beautiful." I had goose bumps and realized in that moment it was why I wanted to be an actor in the first place. I wanted to make people feel the same way Frank Langella had made that woman in the audience feel that brisk spring afternoon.

You're More Versatile Than You Think

I once hear someone say,"Sometimes it's not about moving on, it's just taking a break from everything, and concentrating on yourself, because at the end, who's there? You." If the day finally arrives when you need a pause from your creative endeavors, fear not.

I certainly felt signs of doubt first nudge, then tug, before the echoes within were simply too loud to ignore. I still loved being an actor and writer but my soul was telling me it was time to explore what else the world might have in store for me.

"But what to do?" was the question I kept returning to over and over. Since the age of 11 there was only one thing I cared to do. I didn't know how to regroup and start the long road of finding another calling, if one even existed. Moreover, I felt like I was only qualified to do one thing - perform.

But as time went on I realized I'd been equipped not just for delivering a monologue on stage, or hitting my mark on a film set, I had been given tools to contribute to the world in much broader and creative ways than I could have ever imagined. I had my acting career to thank for my dogged determination, work ethic, persistence, and took great solace in knowing I'd take a chance and pursued my dreams; a surprisingly rare accomplishment I discovered.

I also learned to have absolutely no fear of failure. When you're told "No," in one form, or another for ten years, you develop a pretty thick skin which prepares you for more than you realize.

You too possess many talents you haven't begun to recognize. You're not defined by one thing alone.