By Steven Pressfield
Published: March 22, 2017
When we finish any work of art or commerce and expose it to judgment in the real world, three things can happen:
- Everybody loves it.
- Everybody hates it.
- Nobody notices that it even exists.
[Continuing our exploration of the Professional Mindset, let me repurpose this post that first ran about four years ago.]
All three present you and me as writers and artists with major emotional challenges, and all three drive deep into the most profound questions of life and work.
It will not surprise you, I suspect, if I say that all three responses are impostors. None of them is real, and none should be taken to heart by a writer or artist working from the Professional Mindset.
When we labor in any field that combines art and commerce, we’re working on two tracks.
Track One, the Muse Track, represents our work in its most authentic, true-to-itself and true-to-our-own-heart expression.
Track Two, the Commercial Track, represents the response our work gets in the marketplace. In other words, points 1-2-3 above.
Track Two counts for putting bread on the table and getting our kids through college.
Track One counts for our artistic soul.
The problem with Track Two is it also represents the siren song of riches and fame, or at least applause and recognition in the real world.
Two weeks ago my friend Paul finished writing a TV pilot. It was the first time he had completed a project from FADE IN to THE END. He turned it in to a friend who is a serious producer and who was anxious to see it. Almost immediately Paul’s spirits went over a cliff.
He became depressed, anxious, irritable. He couldn’t sleep. He stopped working. He was waiting to hear his producer friend’s response.
In other words, Paul let himself get sucked over onto Track Number Two, the Commercial Track.
Hollywood (or any big-buzz field like music, publishing, games, software) is a Rorschach test for the soul.
Can we keep our focus where it should be? Can we find our real self and stand up for it? The dream of success/glamour/megabucks is like dark matter. It exerts a gravitational pull that’s so strong it can haul even the best us down into a black hole.
What’s the antidote?
The antidote is remaining grounded on Track Number One. There’s nothing wrong with success. I hold no beef with cashing a check or getting a parking place with your name on it. But don’t confuse Track #1 with Track #2.
While Paul was pacing his living room wondering if he could really kill himself by leaping out a second-story window, the real truth of his situation was this:
He had completed his first serious full-length piece of work.
He had shipped.
He had delivered.
His creative momentum was high.
The Muse was with him.
On Track #1, Paul was rolling!
My advice to Paul (which he did not heed, by the way) was to start another project immediately. In fact Paul was already working on Project #2. But he had stopped.
Why is it so important to keep working?
Because when we finish a project and wait around breathlessly to learn the world’s response to it, we have planted our butts squarely on Track #2. Track #2 means evaluating our work and defining our artistic selves by the opinion of others. (What Shawn calls 3PV, Third Party Validation.)
Nothing good ever came from 3PV. Even success can be bad, viewed through the prism of 3PV. How many people have won Oscars in one year, only to vanish into rehab the next? And failure? Ask Van Gogh how that worked out for him.
And yet: how was Vincent doing on Track #1? He was red-hot. True, a century ahead of his time, but still smokin’ hot.
The ideal position for an artist of authenticity is when Track #1 and Track #2 coincide. When he is working his real stuff—and that stuff finds a welcome in the wider world.
When an artist’s voice is true enough to his own heart and authentic enough to his own vision, Track #1 pulls Track #2 over to it. Bruce Springsteen. Bob Dylan. Hunter S. Thompson.
But we lose our way when we overvalue Track #2 at the expense of Track #1. “Sunflowers” was just as great in 1889, when Van Gogh couldn’t give it away, as it was in 1987 when it sold for $39.9 million.
Whatever Track #2 fate awaits Paul’s pilot, he knocked it out of the park on Track #1.
Posted in Writing Wednesdays
by Renault, Mary
Without The Persian Boy and Fire From Heaven, I wouldn’t be writing at all. These novels of Alexander inspired me years ago when I first read them—and they still read great today. Mary Renault also wrote an interesting non-fiction book, The Nature of Alexander.