It all goes somewhere

I’ve written a lot of stuff that’s just not there yet — drafts of short stories, scripts, and novels stashed on old hard drives and gathering dust in desk drawers. I’ve scribbled or typed for countless hours for more than a decade, and even still, I haven’t really put anything I’ve written out into the world. Sometimes this seems like an occupational hazard — something you accept as a writer. A lot of the time it makes me feel like a loser.

I once wrote an exasperated email to Marc Laidlaw, a far more established writer than I, who I admire greatly for his work on the story of Half-Life, Half-Life 2, and both Half-Life 2 Episodes. (By the way, those credits hardly scratch the surface of his work). I expressed my concern that I hadn’t published anything, that it was a great weakness of mine, and that I felt stuck and wondered whether I should be working harder. He wrote back with a different perspective:

“Not having published is NOT a weakness, it just indicates where you are in your pursuit. If you keep at it, you’ll get there, and you’ll discover there’s no magic to it other than perseverance and having grown and learned enough by writing (not by publishing). It’s not about churn, it’s about focus.”

The feedback really struck me. I was so focused on publishing that I forgot that the missteps and detours along the way are what will ultimately get me there. I’m sure most people who are pursuing something greater than themselves eventually encounter this feeling. Ambition tends to rob us of the present moment.

Marc’s advice reminded me of one of my favorite artists, Donald Glover, a.k.a. Childish Gambino. On a song in his EP, he raps, “It all goes somewhere, you know that? Like that bullshit you talked before Culdesac.” In another song, he raps, “I’m not trying to come hard, I’m trying to come me. That’s why these older songs that I used to make I’d release free.”

These aren’t mind-blowing lines or anything (he has plenty of those) but they illustrate the simple, powerful point that these early attempts at finding your voice are crucial, and you shouldn’t try too hard to be perfect. You have to let go of the idea that everything you make — especially at the beginning — is truly going to represent you. Glover let go of that stuff and released it for free. For him, it was just a step in the evolution of his work.

We should celebrate the work that’s not there yet just as much as we celebrate the final, finished product. After all, it’s the days you sit at your desk and struggle that will ultimately add up to your success.

I also feel that it’s important for us amateurs to share our work. We need the feedback. We also owe it to those that will come after us. As aspiring artists, we rarely get to see behind the curtain. We didn’t get to see the path J.K. Rowling or Stephen King or Quentin Tarantino took in honing their abilities. We just see the end result in all its glory, and scratch our heads wondering where it came from. Maybe if we pull back the curtain early on, while we’re still finding our way, we’ll be able to light the path for others.

And for anyone who’s still toiling over something that’s not quite there yet, take heart. Remember that, in one way or another, it all goes somewhere.