I’ve watched the Beatles documentary “Get Back” twice since they released it in November 2021. The first time was as an awe-struck fan. The Beatles were long disbanded by the time I was born, so to see them as young men, collaborating on iconic songs was amazing. Watching Paul McCartney come up with the riff for Get Back in two minutes blew my mind. On the second watching, I could pick up on some elements that made their process worth studying.

Random observations:

• They are all incredible musicians, jumping between instruments, picking up riffs and chords on the fly. I don’t think Paul plays a wrong note in six hours.
• The technology used to make the film was almost invisible; it was only noticeable when they overlaid conversation over scenes where the talking didn’t match.
• George Martin, so important on the earlier records, seems useless.
• Outsiders influenced George Harrison (Clapton, The Band, etc.) while John Lennon and McCartney were more self-contained and unconcerned about other bands. They pull from rock and roll songs from their youth.
• The editing was fantastic until the concert; Peter Jackson, the director, stuck with how the original film showed the concert, interspersed with crowd reactions. Just show the Beatles playing, please. Leave the crowd’s reaction for the closing credits.

One of the jarring items from the documentary was how many obstacles the group had to overcome. The original space had terrible acoustics. When they moved to Apple studios, the space wasn’t ready. The technology (4-tracks, etc.) was dated and not ready for them when they arrived. They had a tight deadline, because of a movie Ringo Starr was scheduled to shoot and another engagement Glyn Johns the producer had (a study in priorities and perspective… Ringo’s movie was lost to time and who is this other band Glyn needs to get to over the Beatles). And the entire goal of the session and the original documentary were hazy. The big takeaway here, though, is these issues didn’t hinder the process. If they had a pristine, perfect space, the best technology and months and months of open time… do these songs come out the same way? Not a chance. It’s the guardrails that drive so much creativity. I remember when I was a teenager listening to Howard Stern. He had Siskel and Ebert on the show and they begged him to make a documentary of the show. During their discussion, Howard complained he couldn’t do the show he wanted, and both Siskel and Ebert told him it was the blockers, the restrictions imposed by the FCC and the local radio stations that made the process amazing. The same holds true here.

Another obstacle was the lack of leadership. Their old manager, Mr. Brian Epstein, had passed away, and they didn’t have a replacement. Paul steps up and fills this void; he’s the one pushing the work agenda and the most aggressive with ideas for songs. But no one elected him or agreed he was their leader. He just stepped up. Most Beatles histories cite John as the leader and inspiration of the earlier albums, with Paul taking on this role in the later work. This really caught my attention; as someone who works in a traditional workplace with a defined hierarchy, it’s interesting to watch “work” happen without a defined leader. Yes, this causes friction, especially with George leaving the band for a few days, but they still get their work done.

read part 2

I’m not a professional writer. To date, I’ve made less than $100 dollars from my work. While I have a consistent practice, I spend less than 1 hour a day writing, editing or submitting stories. Conversely, I spend 8-10 hours a day working my actual profession.

When I started in technology in the late 1990s, I knew nothing about the craft of writing code, the private workplace (my first job was as a health inspector for a local NJ government), or the industry. I spent hours a day hammering away at code and learning the technology. I read at least 1-2 tech books a month, subscribed to multiple industry magazines (actual paper magazines), free conferences and talked shop with my coworkers. I immersed myself in the profession.

I haven’t done the same for writing. My focus has been on the actual craft… the most important part, of course. But I’ve ignored entire swaths of the process. How and why certain pieces and authors get published. How the industry works. What is the current field of play for publishing in magazines, publishing a book via traditional means, or publishing independently?

Hugh Howey, one of my mentors in writing, speaks to this directly.

One of my stated goals is to have more people read my work. But I don’t understand the criteria and motivations of the traditional gatekeepers (editors, publishers, agents). And I haven’t done the work to grok how independent publishing works or promoted this website. Nor created a writing network, like my coworkers when I started in technology.

Logically, I know I need to expand my knowledge and experience of the industry. I wanted to find my authentic voice and have more published work before focusing on the business of writing (see chicken and egg). Another part wants to treat writing as a serious hobby, much the same way I used to treat triathlons. The concept of a “Gentleman Writer”, in the same vein as the Gentleman Farmer, is lodged in my head. Finally, I use it as an excuse… if I don’t understand what readers and publishers and the industry wants and how they work, I’ll just write what I want, and maybe an audience will magically appear.

In earlier posts, I’ve written about a wish to go away somewhere to write. Spending thirty to sixty minutes each morning on writing is helpful, but doesn’t allow the flow and focus I think could happen if I went on a retreat. My vision is pretty typical; spending two weeks in a remote cabin in the woods, with only pads, a laptop/iPad with no Internet, a few classic books for inspiration. And lots of hiking trails and contemplative fires. Even writing this makes me yearn for this mythical cabin.

This vision is powerful and I’ve carried it around for as long as I’ve been scribbling words on the page. And that made this article stunning. It’s a letter to an advice column in Outside magazine about a woman who basically is doing what I described; living in a cabin in remote Montana by herself with only nature, hiking trails, and her writing. Perfect, right? Except she’s miserable and can’t write and is lonely and has writer’s block. Her problems got worse instead of better.

I froze after reading this article. Could it be my ideal situation… isn’t so ideal? There are differences; she just ended a long-term relationship, references unresolved trauma and is trying to write about herself and nature. I don’t have any of those conditions, but the story (and the advice) still hit home; wherever you go, you will find yourself there. What you carry into solitude is more important than the solitude itself.

This tale hasn’t stopped me from wanting a few days or weeks to dedicate to writing. I wonder how much of her issue is the indeterminate duration and extreme isolation; I’d work in human interaction every day. It’s not the reflection on nature I’m seeking; it’s the absence of distraction.

The given advice is fantastic, essentially a version of the Five Why’s. It’s a great framework to use when trying to understand where you are and where you’re going. And his advice on writing it spot on:

“I think that a lot of writer’s block comes from trying to write something you don’t really mean. Fiction, memoir, whatever—you have to feel it. You have to care. The work needs to have stakes for you. That’s how you get electricity on the page; your readers feel the risks you’re taking. Readers are smart. They sense, even when they don’t understand. Even when they don’t know. And there are few things more dull on the page than a performance.”

I know I’ve struggled to incorporate other’s opinions on what makes a good story and the levels of introspection and examination…. that’s not for me. When I tried to write like that, there was no “electricity” on the page. I tried to be someone I wasn’t.

I’ve welcomed fresh energy from unlikely sources. I’m back to waking up and looking forward to my morning writing sessions.

The first source was Home on Apple+. A show about unique houses, the people who designed, built and live in them. The first one I watched was “Soot House” featuring a cabin in the woods for a small family. Their cabin was everything I’ve ever wanted in a space; spare, functional, minimalist. The actual space, though, isn’t the part that caught my imagination…it’s the stories of real people building something for them, combined with the artistic bend of the series. Something about plans, architecture, using different materials, being out in secluded woods, got me excited. Even the other houses I’ve watched were inspiring, especially the one in Austin built on a toxic industrial site. I literally had trouble sleeping that night; my mind was racing and I just couldn’t stop the flood of ideas and images running through my head. I’ve always been a sucker for the stereotypical architect archetype… Dieter Rams in a spare office talking industrial design, young architects in stations with minimalist desks, hand-drawn designs, etc.

Letting go of Crystal Grove also helped. I didn’t realize how much it hung over my head and stopped me from moving forward. A few weeks after trunking CG, ideas flowed. Writing wasn’t a burden and the world just seemed brighter, lighter.

Finally, the end-of-year processes for my actual job has inspired. Usually, the end of the year means painful reviews, budget denials, stress around submitting plans. We’re making big changes (for our small group) next year, with new projects, added responsibilities, lots of hiring. My team and I have to lift our heads out of the weeds and look into the distance, forcing the aperture by which I look at the world to widen.

These inspirations have common themes; planning, design, space for thinking. I used to spend more time designing when I actively wrote software; re-introducing it to different aspects of my life feels great. Less obvious themes include white space, use of form and space – I sense a symmetry between an architect designing a space optimized for warmth and efficiency, or an industrial designer designing items to do one task, with writing and creating. White space, design, the craft of using words to create a place, a feeling, an emotion. Another aspect of these inspirations is people designing and getting what they want, as opposed to accepting something else. Something about wanting a space of their own, designing and building it just makes me happy.

In my last post, I whined about a lack of enthusiasm. How can I claw out of this ebb? Doing the same things in the same way and hoping for a different outcome won’t work. I need to change.

I’ve described my daily routine before, and am very protective of my morning ritual. Wake, morning pages, meditate and then a minimum of 500 words. I need to preserve large parts of this routine, but re-examine the writing part. Some days (like… today!) I have a backlog of non prose-writing tasks; working though plot ideas and then outlining Unfair Advantage 2. Trying to find time in my busy workday for these activities doesn’t work… I’ve found I can carve out a few minutes for light editing, but not any deep, creative thinking. One of the pleasant parts of writing in the morning is my focus and creativity are at their peak. I need to de-emphasize “words on the page” and transfer the energy to working on other elements of writing.

In an ideal state, I could do both… maybe a quick writing exercise to keep everything sharp and fresh, but spend most of my time and attention on an outline, plot ideas or even high-level edits. This will do two things; move the process along so I don’t have a fearsome backlog of edits and half-baked ideas and set up a consistent, daily practice for the other elements of creating and managing stories. I’m wary of not creating prose every day, but I need to push through.

Another change is how and where I do these non-writing tasks. I need to find that consistent second spot where I can focus for 1-3 hours at a time and really immerse myself in a problem. No reason I can’t do it here, at home, but it’s not working. Too many people, distractions, food, chores, etc. I need a physical space where I can read, edit, lift my head and think. Quietly. Luckily, the local library re-opened a few months ago; I need to spend a few hours there and see if it fits the bill. And soon. Another thought is writing to music. To date, most of my writing has been without music or background noise. But the other noises of life, the sound of my kids getting ready to leave in the morning or the incessant roar of motorcycles grinding past on the nearby highway distracts me. So many authors, from Lewis to Holiday, write to the same repetitive playlist. I need to find mine and put on the earbuds and crank. Without distraction, I should get through my daily words sooner and leave time for the other tasks.

The last change is to have more work “out there”. I have put nothing into the world in months. Part of this change is the long, gatekeeper driven process for publishing. The other part is not finishing the editing on pieces. I need to get multiple stories out for publishing consideration simultaneously. There shouldn’t be a week where I don’t receive feedback from a publisher. Then, if I can’t find a home for a piece, I should publish it here. Anything to get more eyes on the work.

I’m in a deep ebb for writing fiction. A few things at play… I had to “trunk” Crystal Grove. Nothing could save the story even after countless hours of writing and revising. I love the characters and certain scenes, but my “go back and add shit here and there” approach failed. It reads like 3 different people with 3 different ideas wrote the damn thing. As a last ditch effort, I tried to send it to Reedsy editors for an evaluation and suggestions… no one accepted the assignment. The last section is much stronger than the first two and might stand on its own. Or, the viewpoint of a secondary character could make for a stand-alone story… but for now, it’s trunked. Dead.

Trunking CG sapped my enthusiasm. I have two stories out to publishers; they’ve been in the can for over six months. I quite like “Wasted Crisis” and it should find a home. The process is so frustrating, with months and months of waiting and then a form email rejecting the piece. And the builds on other frustrations about where are the right places to submit to and to target… few journals look for realistic, non-emotional short fiction. It’s hard to picture the right places for the work to live.

Compounding the issue is my lack of a WIP. I wrote a few brief stories a few weeks ago, one featuring a security officer in post-secession West Palm Beach and a better one about wizards in post-industrial New Jersey. They get to join the backlog of stories that need editing and work, along with Mags Hotel, two leprechaun stories, The Valley and a smattering of other tales. As I’ve written about before, my struggle with resistance is around editing, not writing. Happy to write all day, but revising…

I’ve spent my morning writing sessions with a deck of prompts from Writing Down the Bones. They are brilliant and useful questions. The prompts promote writing with genuine emotion and truth. I certainly can use more of this and the prompts are useful… but I can’t write to them every day. And I’m on my second week of nothing but prompts. I should only use them as filler or when I’m in-between work, not as a month-long assignment.

The last piece of my ennui pie is the work required to start my next piece. I’m going back to Unfair Advantage. After visiting West Palm for the first time in over two years, I found the shell of the second and final part to UA. But, in one of my lessons learned from CG and other work, I’m not writing anything until I have an outline and the conclusion worked out. Fully. By fully, I mean no parts that I can’t explain fully to myself. And pass the sniff tests in terms of interest and rising tension and all the other basic components of writing that I chose to only loosely follow until now. I’ll outline differently than previously… I didn’t like the very formulaic spreadsheet outline with fifteen column headers. I will try the James Paterson approach (ignoring the negativity around his writing… that claim may make the case for following his outlines stronger, not weaker) or writing the outline out per scene/chapter, but in paragraph form. And keep asking myself “and then what happens…” and keep throwing obstacles at Eileen. Would love to bounce ideas off of someone with experience in story writing… but I haven’t cultivated that community yet. And not having the plot points stops me from outlining, which blocks the writing.