Eric Owyoung is a composer and musician who performs with his band as Future of Forestry. Like many another creative type, he also does teaching gigs (hey, my co-author and I have done them; it’s a way to even out the income stream), and he blogs about a recent one here. It’s got some good insights, not least this one:
Do you have a creative goal like making an album of ten great songs? If so, the worst idea is to try to write ten great songs. Set a goal to write 60 or more songs… no matter how bad they are, just barrel through them. Chances are that 10%-15% of them might turn out pretty good. Learn from your mistakes.
Handy advice, I think, for the sort of writer who tends to obsess over crafting the perfect sentence in the perfect paragraph in the perfect story, only to end up crafting all the life out of it. (The fast-and-slapdash types have, I sometimes think, an easier row to hoe: They only need to learn how to do second and third drafts.)
And if you’re interested in Mr. Owyoung’s music, you can listen to some of it on his web site.
From the Sibling Cabal’s No Story Is Sacred podcast, this trenchant observation – now with accompanying graphic – is available for purchase on mugs and more at Redbubble.
Every once in a while, I run across something that makes me wish for a moment that I’d stayed in Academia.† Like this call for papers:
Inside Out: Dress and Identity in the Middle Ages, the 38th Annual Conference at Fordham University’s Center for Medieval Studies.
Not that I’d have anything to present — material culture was never my field — but my word, the papers should be fascinating.
†Not often, though, or for very long. I got out at just about the same time as Academia started devouring its own young.
My offspring, they have a podcast:
No Story is Sacred
It’s up at all the usual places.
(“Art in the blood, Watson . . . .”)
Jim Macdonald did magic again last weekend, and over at his place, he blogs about it:
The Ice-Cream Magician.
(With bonus writing-related content!)
There’s a guest post by another magician.
Jim’s posting a lot about stage magic these days, which isn’t surprising; he was learning to be a magician even before he started learning to be a writer.
It’s all entertainment, in the end, and bringing the mystery. Art in the blood, Watson. . . .
(God knows, we need it.)
If you were raised in (or have ever lived for an extended time in) the South, this is hilarious:
“Tennessee Williams with Air Conditioning”
(I read an article somewhere once† that attributed the rise of the modern South to the invention of air conditioning, which made it possible for people in that region to actually work from 9 to 5 in the summertime without turning into puddles of economically unproductive sweat. The writer of the article, as I recall, seemed to vaguely resent this.)
†generic all purpose citation, bookworms, for the use of
We’re now well into the time of hot, oppressive days and high pollen counts. The cats, instead of sitting like little furry meatloafs with tails and paws neatly tucked in, are stretched out into longcats, and can be reliably used to find the spots with the best cooling cross-drafts.
Which are no good to the rest of us, because the cats own them.
Summer is not the most enjoyable time for doing work, but work nevertheless must be done (this is where I point, in a discreet parenthesis, to the “Editorial and Critique Services” link up at the top of the page), so I’ll leave you with a handful of links to amuse or interest you during the days when you’re not on vacation at the beach, or in a mountaintop cabin, or in a hermetically sealed and thoroughly air-conditioned hotel room, if such is your pleasure:
First, a clip of Jim Macdonald, my co-author, in his other role as a magician (complete with top hat!)
Next, a good (and funny) explanation of the context rules for the use of bad language, and a report on the discovery of the earliest known use of the f-word in written English.
And finally, a video demonstrating how to put on a set of late 14th-century armor.
Stay cool, and enjoy.