Art is Hell

Recently, having asked for some creative advice from a more senior copywriter than myself, I had a book recommended to me.

This person who made the recommendation had read my blog and told me that he liked my style. That I could possibly do well writing a book someday.

I told him that that was the plan.

That I’d love to write a book, but I simply didn’t feel prepared to engage with that kind of undertaking.

It seems too big.

I don’t want to insult anyone’s taste.

Who am I to write with the expectation of reading, anyway?

This person didn’t offer much in the way of understanding.

He just said, “Read The War of Art. It’ll kick your ass.”

So I did.

Or I read the first 98 pages of it. I’ll get back to it later. Maybe. I was enjoying it so much that I handed it off to my girlfriend so that she could reap the benefits of its wisdom sooner rather than later.

I’m going to quickly summarize what I was learning here, and then I’m never going talk about it again, because according to its author, talking about it will dilute it:

In The War of Art, Steven Pressfield identifies the force which prevents us from doing the things we set out to do. He calls this force “Resistance.” He says resistance is what we feel when we attempt to do the things which we know we’re meant to.

In my case, the thing to do is write. In your case it might be to start a business, or knit a sweater for your chilly grandma, or run a marathon. There are lots of occasions for resistance to attempt to thwart us, and it is an insidious enemy. 

It employs reason against us.

It convinces us that we would be better off waiting until the external obstacles in our lives have gone away.

It doesn’t want to try because trying means that there’s a risk of failing, and failing would be embarrassing.

Pressfield makes the point that the more we care about something, the more likely we are to encounter resistance when attempting to engage in it because the fear of failure is greater for our love of it.

His recommendation to fight this beast is to just do it.

The antidote to resistance, according to Pressfield, is to understand that resistance will present itself. It will tell us we’re not ready, or that we’re a little tired so we should rest, or that there’s a cool Rick and Morty anime short on Youtube, and if we watch it we might gain some inspiration that will help us do our thing better tomorrow.

Pressfield reminds the reader that it’s not only ok to go pro at what you love, but that it’s the only way to fight the resistance of doing it. It is the obligation of every person who has a love for something to wake up in the morning, and do that thing.

As I mentioned, I haven’t finished reading the book yet, so I can’t tell you how it ends. I may never finish reading the book. I feel like Pressfield would encourage me to leave the rest unread. To simply proceed with what I know is the course. To act, and to quiet what’s holding me back. So, at least for now, I will.

(Just so I don’t give this author absolute credit for motivating me to do my work, I want to quickly mention that my father recently tried communicating a similar lesson in fewer words.

One day while I was sitting on the deck at home in New Jersey, we started talking about some obscure idea I had discovered in The History of Western Philosophy, he asked me why I was thinking so much. Why I don’t just do.

I think I said something like, “It’s important to have something to write about before you start writing.”

I think his point was that I have plenty to write about, if I would just write.

…Father knows best. Etc. Etc.)