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Ken Bubp's avatar

Ted, If I may humbly (?) suggest one important item that you left out of your own story, which I only know through your other, older posts. That is, while not on its own sufficient, it is certainly necessary for your becoming a good writer: You read deeply and thought deeply and observed deeply - learning about how people work, how cultures work, how systems and trends and movements and all other manner of human interactions work. That is, your excellent writing is born out of you having something to say because you paid attention.

(In this way your writing reminds me of Wendell Berry and Paul Kingsnorth.)

And that is not something one can rush. The best writers, in my experience, are the best observers and analyzers of others.

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Nancy Jimison's avatar

What an important note.

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Peter in Toronto's avatar

I was a monk for a short time in Kyoto, and one day I was talking to a fellow student (Japanese) and we were chatting away watching a gardener at work raking leaves, and my fellow student said, do you know that there are at least 5 verb forms in Japanese for raking leaves? I asked him to continue, and he said (I think I remember this correctly): (1) raking leaves out of the garden little by little as they fall; (2) raking leaves into one big pile; (3) raking leaves into multiple little piles; (4) raking leaves into multiple little piles and then raking the piles into one big pile; (5) raking the leaves so that the result is a lovely pattern of fallen leaves that looks as if no one has raked them. I am not sure if he was having me on, but it was a lovely discussion to have while we watched......

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Muriel Palmer-Rhea's avatar

For Peter in Toronto: I once bought a small book of Japanese post Cards. One of the photos featured fallen leaves arranged in a circle around each tree in the photo. That may have been your fellow monk’s #5 type.

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Tanya Mozias's avatar

I love this so much

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Marty Neumeier's avatar

It seems like a lot of young authors believe they can take a shortcut to the top by joining the right university program, finding the right mentor, or just writing assiduously for ten years. Then—voila!—Booker Prize! (Or name your favorite award.) There's another route that parallels Ted's approach: get a commercial writing job. Become a copywriter. Become a journalist. Become a speechwriter or a PR writer. Work in corporate communications. You'll make enough to get by while you're learning about the real world, all the stuff you'll need to be a successful person and not just a successful writer.

What will you learn about writing? Copywriting teaches concision. Journalism teaches storytelling. Speechwriting teaches persuasion. PR teaches psychology. Corp comms teaches strategy. They all teach craft, and they'll turn you into disciplined writer who's more interested in your readers than yourself. At bottom, writing beautifully is a blue-collar job. And a great one if you love it enough to stick it out.

Thanks for the reminder, Ted.

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Lloyd Kahn's avatar

"I would have written a shorter letter, but I didn't have enough time."

-Blaise Pascal in “Lettres Provinciales,” 1657

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Kate Stanton's avatar

Seth Godin says, “ship it”. Pressfield says, “put your ass where your heart wants to be”. Gioia says, “do the writing”. Do the work. Just do it. I like the action-based approach. I found this Substack because the concept of an “Honest Broker” journal intrigued me so much regarding my songwriting. I go back with my editing hat and pick out themes to write songs.

My biggest takeaway: “focusing instead on the intrinsic joy of creative expression”. To create is to grow as a human. ❤️ I learn more each time I sing. Silencing my critical ego is always the part that keeps me from “doing the work”…the work I know in my heart I’m supposed to do! I don’t personally enjoy a lot of the music lifestyle/world—so I’m trying to figure out where & how I fit in it. I want to use my voice. Both singing & writing voice—for good.

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Alma Drake's avatar

I became a sound healer for that reason - i am still a songwriter and guitarist, but sound healing gives me a different kind of palette and a different set of brushes. It's incredibly rewarding. Using my voice to heal is like becoming an angel for a little bit. I hope you find a way to feel music in the deepest ways you can!

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Dan Leemon's avatar

I’m not a professional writer, and I’ve never heard anyone give anybody this advice, but it works very well for me: Practice speaking. I don’t mean in public forums necessarily, but learn to tell someone else a story, or explain your point to them, in complete sentences, and with precise vocabulary. I think the immediate feedback you get – – Do they understand you? Are they interested what you have to say? – – Is very good preparation for the solitary act of writing, when you have no immediate feedback.

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S Anne Kelln's avatar

This is so true! My job as teacher and presenter has made me a much better writer.

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Sherry's avatar

I read Stephen Kings book on writing. It really struck me when he said that people would say, “I always wanted to be a writer”. To which he would say, “Well then, why aren’t you?”

Pretty much summed up that argument.

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Jim of Seattle's avatar

Shortly after beginning to read this article, I recognized myself in it so fully that I started to read fast to see if there was anything in there that differs from my own experience. I am also in my 60s, and have been making music for 45 years now, and I still only have the tiniest of audiences, and given the state of the Music Industry, especially now, I am really glad I did not chase that elusive trophy.

Of course the biggest difference is that now in your 60s, Ted, you finally have achieved some level of recognition, whereas I still toil in obscurity after all this time, and most certainly will until I die (at age 112 if all goes as planned).

I would be curious to know what your answer would be to this question, as well as anyone reading this who does some creative endeavor regularly: What would you point to as the single most satisfying instants in your creative life? For some it is “I got the role“, or maybe “I signed a record deal”, or whatever. Even if something like that actually ever happens to me, I would maintain that my greatest moments happen all alone, mid-process, when I suddenly realize I totally nailed that little part. That is just the exact right chord, or I can’t believe I came up with that lyric, or whatever. I have a handful of such moments that are peppered sparsely throughout my public recordings, and although they certainly pass by unnoticed by anyone listening, to me, I always notice them when they come up and think to myself “oh yeah, right there at 2:43 the way that piano comes in on that chord right at that moment, that totally works and I’m super proud of that instant.“ Anyone else?

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Elizabeth Gahbler's avatar

Musician here. Yeah - for me, the greatest moments have been when I have been emotionally overcome by/one with the music I’ve been playing, or in a number of cases, simply listening to. And actually, that is fairly often, though there are definitely standout moments. Music is existential for me.

The only time I haven’t had music in my head, btw, was when my dad died. There was utter silence for at least 12 days. I couldn’t will any music back into my head. When it came back, it was of its own accord.

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Nancy Jimison's avatar

Sometimes things are too bad for words, and we can only want silence.

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Elizabeth Gahbler's avatar

Yeah. Though I am never in control of the music that goes on in my head. In that case, it turned itself off — my conscious mind had no control. But I am highly aware of how powerful the unconscious is. This is/was a classic example.

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Henk B's avatar

Why don't you share some of your music with us (YouTube, Spotify), Jim, maybe you will gain recognition from us!

BTW there is no shame in promoting oneself. Once I sent an email to a famous blogger (Tyler Cowen from Marginal Revolution) with a link to a blogpost of mine attached, despite my misgivings and fear of imposing myself. He put the link on his blog and the post (about Dutch culture) went slightly viral and 6500 people read it (instead of the usual 86) which was rewarding.

Let's put my money where my mouth is:

This is said post: https://henkb.substack.com/p/wooden-shoes-and-marihuana

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Jim of Seattle's avatar

I’ve been promoting my music here on and off. Gioia reviewed my debut album positively in 2012.

Www.jimofseattle.com

You can even get postcards mailed to your house once a month with a qr code for a song and video. All free. Not in it for the money. Gioia gets them (though he didn’t ask for them and I’m still waiting for the day when I learn he’s actual even seeing them 😁)

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Zafirios Georgilas's avatar

Actually, what you offer is practical advice. I'm reminded of a Greek expression my father says to me, "υπομονή και επιμονή" (patience and persistence). #8 resonates with me about finding other ways to pay your bills. The great writers have worked all sorts of day jobs and that's why their writing is fascinating and lifelike. I think the problem with some contemporary writers is students take degrees in creative writing and write about writers. That's why it often doesn't resonate because their purview is limited.

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Matthew Jepsen's avatar

Austin Kleon, in his advice to artists is "forget the noun, do the verb". It sounds to me like you embodied this exactly Ted. You just wrote a lot and didn't care about being a "writer". I'm glad your long slow work is finally paying off in the form of more attention these days!

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VMark's avatar

Hat vendor…(sorry for the break) his friend tried on a few hats and the vendor asked what he thought. The man replied “I’m not sure I’m a hat guy”. To which the Latino vendor laughingly replied “there’s only one way to be a hat guy. You gotta wear a hat.” Profound.

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Tessa Souter's avatar

hahaha

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Roseanne T. Sullivan's avatar

Good advice. Do it because you must. This triggers me to look back on why and how I persevered in writing. I wanted to be a writer from the age of fifteen. And yes, I did want the writer's life, fame and fortune, which were achieved by Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Mailer . . .. My first interest was fiction writing. But much of what was published in my youth was phallocentric, and only one woman I knew about, Anais Nin, was matching the men's bedtime stories. I wasn't interested in trying to compete in that milieu. Come to think of it, while working on a masters in writing, somehow I won an honorable mention in a Playgirl magazine short story contest that didn't have a bit of sex in it. And I won a U of Minnesota Daily contest with another story, but that brought me only enough money to buy a few tires for one of the junker cars I drove for years. Needing to support two little children after a divorce, I was delighted to find I could be paid well for technical writing in the emerging computer field. It used the skills I had, the ability to learn anything and to write about it in the appropriate format at the appropriate level of discourse. On the side I wrote travel stories and memoir pieces I'd send around by email to friends and acquaintances. One acquaintance asked me in an accusative tone, "Why do you write so much?" I replied, "Because I am a writer." It seemed obvious to me. I finally found my voice when I started publishing in Catholic publications about Catholic things. And I started writing poetry, entering Catholic Literary Arts competitions, and winning some. All those poems were about Mary. Now I find myself writing all the time about Catholic matters, liturgy, art, and the saints, the heroes and heroines of the Faith. So I think one of the big motivators would have to be to write about the things you're passionate about. As you do, about jazz and social trends. Thanks, Ted.

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Peter Gerler's avatar

I always like this, from John Gregory Dunne: "“Writing is a manual labor of the mind: a job, like laying pipe.” I believe he and Didion made a ripe pair!

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Kelly's avatar

Love. The commitment to the practice being the reward in itself. Okay, back to the page we go...

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Steve Lyon's avatar

As a published author and former Editor in Chief, spot on, Ted. Kudos. Statements like "the intrinsic joy of creative expression, I always found sustenance in the writing life" et al are right on the mark ... or is write on the mark? Hmmm ...

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Tom Rhea's avatar

Ted Gioia: "I became a writer by writing. End of story."

Fortunately for me, I had writing tasks thrust upon me. "Can you write an owner's manual for the Sonic Six synthesizer?"

When asked such a thing, my "advice" is to lie if necessary. Simply say "yes, of course I can." I reasoned that even if they killed me after I failed, I'm too tough to eat!

Then, even if you're sweating bullets wondering how you're going to do such a thing, get busy doing the task.

Didn't hurt that I had written a PhD dissertation, and my Major Professor asked me–after vetting the first chapter " . . . why are you writing this way?" I said, "well, it's for a PhD." He said "I've seen your writing (I had a few publications even as a graduate student); write as you already know how! Stop writing in 'Educanto!'"

Armed with that "advice," I wrote the remaining parts of that dissertation in a natural conversational voice, which was ultimately deemed to be quite good. Uh, it was good research, by the way, which is the backbone of good writing.

Some of my "advice:" study the language in which you're going to write. That's how you can become a wordsmith. Read books about writing, and not the self-help crap. Study writing by those who have proven to do it well, and/or those who understand, and can articulate how language works.

It also helps to know just what you want to say. In the case of expository writing, such as the many manuals I wrote, explaining a new musical instrument essentially created an outline of what needed to be said. Because I had so much practice doing that, I became a writer, and eventually could write all sorts of prose. First, imagine what the reader's questions will be . . . and answer them without trying to "impress" them with your erudition.

Then, gather up your brass bollocks and get to it . . .

By the way, this works for composing music, as well. First, find out what makes music tick–how it's constructed. I taught a "Devices of Music" course for years in which I showed students examples of augmentation, diminution, hemiola, call and response, etc. As I quipped on an interview: "I can't guarantee that you will write great music, but if you know how music is actually constructed, you can actually make some money by writing on demand!" I did, and I never gave a thought to whether my output was "great."

Seeking to be great can paralyze. Just get on with it, and get the job done . . . when asked what it takes to be an A-list film score composer, Jerry Goldsmith answered–without hesitation, with one word:

Stamina.

And, don't fail to credit. Suzy Goss, wife of one of my fellow graduate students, taught me how to write at her kitchen table. She was a public school English teacher . . . thank you Suzy!

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